Owlbear and Wizard’s Staff Play Report Part Deux: A 1e High Level Glory Hole

The night was still young. Serpents had been slain. Treasures recovered. But now, it was time for an adventure of a different sort. We were about to descend into the GLORY HOLE DWARVEN MINE.

I expected puns, ponderous mapping, and possibly we would discover if Dwarven women had beards or not. (Spoiler: they do!)

The Owlbear and Wizard’s Staff Convention was in full swing. Competing with my evening slot on Friday was the famed Convention Curry Night, which had its own sign-up sheet. I remember thinking: what game would tempt a player away from the lure of vindaloo and lager?

Well… what’s spicier than a Glory Hole?

I’d picked up the Judges Guild module maybe a year earlier, cheap on eBay. If I’m honest, the title alone sold it. A quick skim revealed there were bits I’d never use. Without spoiling too much, there’s a section where PCs can find garbage cans, baseball bats, and flashlights. Artifacts from a ‘modern’ past.

Still, the core dungeon looked strong. A sprawling mega-dungeon focused on faction play, with rival groups exploring the gemstone mines outside the City State of the Invincible Overlord. That alone made it worth a spin.

I loaded up my event onto the schedule, and soon after Matthew — the organiser of OBWS, lovely bloke all around — asked if he could put a disclaimer on the game listing:

“There is no X-rated content in this game.”

Of course! The idea only added to the absurdity of the module’s name.

Lewis Pulsipher reviewed the Glory Hole in 1982:

“This was a decent idea, for the most part, but inadequately produced.”

How you butchered my boy, Lewis.

Well, I was about to find out for myself. Five players had signed up.

THE HOLE

Game Prep

Unlike The Setian Vault, which I wrote myself and have run in my campaign, this dungeon was totally alien to me. I’d selected it before even finishing a full read-through.

I’m confident at winging things, but I sat down properly in the weeks leading up to the con to give it a full comb-through.

And there were… issues.

  • It’s written for the Judges Guild Universal System, which is basically D&D with the numbers filed off. No big deal at first…
  • Until I noticed the monsters were D&D-adjacent — but not quite. Gargoyles in the module, for instance, didn’t require magic weapons to be hit. “Ettins” were renamed multi-headed ogres and had different stats entirely. There were plenty of unique monsters.
  • There are tons of factions, all with plans. But the NPC stats are in one section, and the encounter text in another. Not ideal for con play with all that potential parsing.
  • The place is huge. Would this even work as a one-shot?
  • It recommends a party with a combined 50–60 character levels. That probably presumed a large table of players with mid-level PCs. I didn’t have that.

But hey — I had sign-ups, and I’m not one to back down from a challenge.

So I said: fuck it. Generated some level 10 characters from osricrpg.com, and slid up to that Glory Hole to show it who was boss. To help the players out, I pre-selected the spells for the casters. I also made notes for segment casting times and durations for each spell. I wanted to minimise looking up rules as much as possible during the game.

I decided to use the monsters as written in the module. I skimmed the NPCs, started making some faction notes, but eventually said: to hell with this, I’ll improvise.

Fast forward to Saint Patrick’s Irish Club. Friday evening. The sun is setting. Dark forebodings. I sip my Guinness. Equally dark. My eyes are dark also, though not through choice. I’m wearing my sunglasses. Why? Because a few days ago I lost my prescription glasses. This is the only way I can see.

Sunnies in a darkened hall probably had everyone thinking I was that guy who wears sunglasses in the pub. Ha! Let them.

Behind my inky black lenses, I had enhanced powers of obscurement.
Witness my ultimate poker face.

Then the players arrived at the table.

“Are you here for the Glory Hole?”

The Party Gathers

Our PCs
  • James KnightMeomesiene, Human Cleric (10), Lawful Good
    Items: Helm of Comprehending Languages, Potion of Invulnerability, +1 Small Shield
  • AndrewGodanova the Spiritual, Half-Orc Fighter (10), Chaotic Evil
    Items: +2 Two-Handed Sword, Potion of Growth, Scroll of Protection from Possession
  • DarrenOkar, Dwarven Fighter (7), Neutral
    Items: Javelins of Piercing, Potion of Gaseous Form
  • AndyKurlacon the Fearless, Human Thief (10), Chaotic Neutral
    Items: …Sweet Water (very useful)
  • Alin the Eldritch, Human Magic-User (10), Lawful Evil
    Items: Potion of Healing ×2, Potion of Copper Dragon Control, Scroll (Wall of Force), Wand of Enemy Detection

Note: No one picked the Illusionist I’d generated. Bummer. All the magic items were generated by the website. Some characters were luckier than others.

Second Note: One player’s name is missing — he arrived late and I forgot to note it on my record sheet. If you’re reading this, drop me a line!

The character sheets for this session weren’t printed on the fancy fake Goldenrod stock. I kept them cleaner: just the stats, saves, attack matrix, damage ranges, boxes for magic items, and all their prepared spells. Still, despite best efforts, they came out cluttered — as is tradition.

Players picked their characters as they arrived, first come, first served. They also chose from my pool of Ral Partha miniatures.

“I think I had this miniature back in the day!”

As a small bonus, I let the players roll 2d6 light footmen to accompany them.

I then asked the party to select a leader. Andy — with his tenacious thief — took the mantle.

I grew solemn.

“Now, I need at least one of you to step up to be the mapper. It won’t be an easy job.”

No kidding. Mapping this mine would not be a cakewalk.
(SPOILERS BELOW!)

With gusto, Andrew stood and declared he was the man for the job. A brave soul. He had no idea what awaited him.

One last piece of upkeep:
The number of magic javelins needed to be rolled.
The MU needed to choose what type of Elemental he’d try to summon. Earth was the obvious choice.

We had a date with a Glory Hole.

The Goblinoid Massacre

The party strode into the place like Don Juan. And why wouldn’t they, for God’s sake? Look at them — levels dripping off every limb.

After some tunnels, they entered a large hall filled with empty mining crates. Up ahead, they spotted another adventuring party led by an Amazonian warrioress. The party had rolled surprise on her and so hooded their lantern. They watched. They listened. The female leader spoke — something about following a map.

The players decided to shadow them from a distance.

That continued for a bit… until a random encounter occurred (there are so many random encounters on this level — I guess that’s to simulate the crowds of parties and monsters descending into the mines).

I rolled: goblins.

Time to see what the party could do.

In a single one-minute round, the dwarf and the half-orc annihilated all twelve.
Those poor 1d6+2 HD gobbos never stood a chance. Their bodies lay brutalised across the battlemat.

A short while later — another goblin encounter.
You guessed it: more carnage. This time nine goblins. Gone. In under a minute.

“I roll five hits.”
“I roll six”
“Someone pass the man more d10s.”

These encounters caused the party to lose track of the Amazon’s trail. With no Rangers among them, they couldn’t trace her.

Four gremlins jumped out next — and died almost immediately.

The party was descending deeper. They now carried sacks of pilfered silver pieces. Alin the Eldritch hopped into a mine cart and rode down into level two.

Mutiny!

A quick jaunt through this level, it must be said.

As soon as they entered the area, they came upon an elevator shaft.

“Well, we want to go deep in this Glory Hole, don’t we?”


There was a resounding yes.

The lift worked by a set of man-powered wheels. The party demanded two of the light footmen man it and send them down. After a loyalty roll, they weren’t too happy about that. Alin the Eldritch stayed behind with them, essentially strong-arming them into the work.

The party descended in the lift and came upon a Cave Fiend — one of those new monsters. I quickly scanned the monster entry. It had good odds to surprise the party, but no luck on the dice. It sat there, squat and grey, eating two Dwarven corpses. We diced initiative. It took them two rounds to slay it.

Meanwhile, on the upper level, the two men-at-arms were whispering, readying to betray ‘ol Alin — throw him down the shaft! Alin overheard their plans and, with a quick magic missile or three, sent the men to their doom.

Unfortunately, this caused a random encounter, and bumbling into the room came a two-headed ogre who thought Alin looked like a most tasty morsel.

The wizard was snatched up, but a bit of luck with a reaction roll — the two heads started arguing over who got to take the first bite. The rest of the party below managed to race back up the shaft to save poor Alin before he became chow, killing the ogre in a couple of rounds.

Long-Legged Freaks

Torches lit. Their sacks in hand. The party returned down and explored some more. Graph paper was being thrown over to Andrew rapidly.

Through the caverns they trod. Into a huge chamber filled with more of those ore bins. There was a cave bear. That was one-shotted. The party didn’t even ask about skinning the thing. Whatever was going on!

But aha! Inside those bins awaited a nasty surprise: Black Widow Spiders. The Black Widows looked puny in the manual, so I rolled giant poisonous spiders from the MM instead. Aha! A challenge at last.

No.

The party was not surprised. Then some magical flying javelins took off. Magic missiles shot out. The fighter was smashing out three hits in round one. It was over fast. A hit or two from the spider venom was all saved.

Inside the bins was ore. There’s a mechanic for determining what kind. It was Fine Silver. The party took a bit, but it was bulky — and surely there would be better treasures ahead.

RIP Bong, Gono, Bond, Falty, Salty, Arco, and Tarco

The party carried on and soon found another lift. This one went all the way to the sixth level. They descended level by level.

On the way, they encountered their first group of dwarves. There were twenty of them, and the first six ranks fired bolts from crossbows at the party. Each firing, then dropping to a knee. That was nine shots in a round. Did the party take damage? Hardly. They charged in and slew seven of the poor bearded lads in two rounds.

The morale dice demanded the rest surrendered. After a brief back and forth, the party gave them some treasure and asked the survivors to join them deeper into the mine. On their travels, they had found a few veins of precious silver.

A few words were spoken for the fallen dwarves, who were named Bong, Gono, Bond, Falty, Salty, Arco, and Tarco.
Yes, the module names every dwarf NPC.

You wanted Dwarves, we’ll give you Dwarves!

Deeper Still

It was growing late in the day. The party had now descended all the way to the sixth level. How many times had I described forty-five degree passages and Y-shaped intersections? Undetermined.

The party had slain Cave Fiends, trolls, and a few green gargoyles.

During one particularly nasty combat against gargoyles, Alin the Eldritch had summoned a horde of troglodytes to his aid. Unfortunately, the stench from these beastmen had hampered the party’s own attacks.

But we were deeper now — in both pints of Guinness and shame. How many Glory Hole puns had we made? Never enough.

The party came upon a second Dwarf party, this time led by the exquisitely named Meathead Gilfath. This dwarf joined the expedition with gusto.

Soon the party were breaking through bricked-up corridors, sending their bearded miners ahead. These sounds almost always brought a random encounter, but these trifles were swatted away like pawns from a board.

“Let’s get through these bricked-up passages a little quicker, I have an idea. How much rubble have we excavated?”

It was time for the Elemental to be summoned.

Don’t Lose Control

The wizard Alin summoned his servant from the Plane of Elemental Earth and bound it to his will. With it, they smashed through several bricked-up chambers. The frequency of these sealed portals now led the party to believe they were on the track of a great treasure.

“Okay, you’ve moved twice with the Elemental out in front of the party. Roll a d20 ten times. Don’t roll a one.”

The players gathered their heads around the die. Alan’s player began rolling. He was nearly through them all… when that natural one appeared out of his fist. The table let out a roar.

The Elemental had turned against its master.

The 16 HD creature did more damage than anything else previously. Spiritual Hammers were thrown. Magic javelins loosed. HP was lost. The party were eventually victorious — but at some cost. Plenty of dwarves and men-at-arms were dead. Enough healing spells were used to fix up the party.

The Final Push

With that chaos behind them, the party followed a tunnel into a dark and natural cavern. There, in a high-roofed cave, they came upon the lair of the green gargoyles. The party found themselves pinioned in an archway as the creatures swooped down, ripping the dwarves to pieces.

The fighters had to step up and take the brunt. It was a punishing fight, and one particular gargoyle — bigger than the rest and wielding a magically glowing sword — caused serious pain.

In the end, the party caused the gargoyles great losses and drove them to flee up a large tube in the chamber’s ceiling, leaving behind a huge haul of gold coins — and the gargoyles’ eggs.

These were unceremoniously smashed. A shame, really. They could have made very unique pets in a campaign. Never mind. The victory was deserved.

The party packed up their coins. We had a brief calamity whilst getting back out of the dungeon. Time was running out. We counted out the moves. I rolled the encounter dice.

The party had spent twelve in-game hours in the deepest reaches of the GLORY HOLE, but they had emerged into the fresh Altanian air — richer, and alive!

The Happy Ending

As is tradition, I asked the victorious players to name their MVP. The legendary Andrew won without any contention, for he had studiously mapped the whole expedition and done a fine job.

He won himself a copy of Dray Prescot: 21 – A Fortune for Kregen. Not Appendix N, but a nice DAW yellow spined paperback regardless. Funnily enough, Andrew and Andy said they had just been discussing Kenneth Bulmer (the author). Andy has a great Moorcockian podcast where he focuses on SF and fantasy pulp fiction. I highly recommend it!

Now that cover would be an encounter!

Summary

The first day of the Con had come to an end. I was truly knackered, but elated. My attempt at running a fast-paced, high-level AD&D, sword & sorcery adventure was a success. We were laughing a lot. Sheets of graph paper were flying all over the place. D8’s were dropping all over the table as the players also helped me tally up HD with all these monsters we were encountering. It was a blast! 

Will I run the Glory Hole at a convention again? Probably not.

Do I recommend it as a module for your AD&D home game. With conversions and a bit of prepping, absolutely! 

I recommend any DM to run a seat-of-your-pants high level adventure with minimal prep, it may raise your blood pressure, but it will invariably lead to a good time, and plenty of jokes! 

Until next time, Fight on! 

DL Campaign Sessions 15 & 16

Playing catch up, I will try to summarise the two sessions as best I can. The party had a town adventure, then went out to investigate the lair of a criminal organisation. They ended up slaying a powerful monster and claiming a huge treasure trove.


Characters

Andros – Cleric 1 
Davy – Fighter 1 
Malik – Fighter 3 
Vahan – Fighter 1

Retainers 

(Andros) 
Guludad – Magic user 1 
Tully – Magic user 1 
Hestia – Cleric 1 
 Kull – man-at-arms

(Davy) 
Hodorun – Thief 1 
Ciric – NH 

(Malik) 
Thalzir – Barbarian 2 
Zi – Cleric 1 
Glenn – Cleric 1 
2 light foot pirates.


The town of Ronton-on-Fie had new visitors. A massive merchant caravan from the capital had come to the town, owing to the large quantities of treasure that had been sold there recently. The caravan contained around three hundred individuals, mainly guardsmen, and thirty wagons. Malik recognised the colours of the heraldry on display as belonging to House Drakos of the city state of Acron.

The party made use of these new merchants, selling the gems from their last expedition and buying armours, weapons, and other goods and sundries. Unfortunately, the huge boom in population for the lake side town meant that all the inns had increased their prices nearly one hundred fold. It now cost 10 gp per person for a bed for the night. Not wanting to waste their coin, the party opted to camp in one of the recently tilled fields beside the temple district.

Some figures approached the tent during the night. They were minstrels, and they seemed most upset. There were eleven of them, some had bloody mouths and swollen eyes. They told the party that they’d been paid to perform at a local bordello in the docklands. The security guard at this establishment, a chaotic dwarf named Girin, had mocked them, beaten them, and stollen their instruments. Without their instruments they would soon become beggars and wanderers. They pleaded for the party help them retrieve the instruments, and if they could, to wreak revenge on the bullying dwarf. For this the minstrels would hand over all their coins as reward. 

After a little deliberation the party agreed. 

“How hard can a single dwarf be?” 

Thinking the better of taking their new cleric retainers to a house of disrepute they figured they would travel to the bordello with a reduced party. The remaining characters were left to get some shut eye. 

Andros, Malik, Davy, Guludad, Tully, and Hodorun all went to the cat-house. 

They found an old warehouse in the dockland district, it’s factory doors open wide. There was a crumpled man laid on the ground. They tried to rouse him, but he was unconscious with a bloody gash on his head. 

Two soldiers came out of the factory doors and told the party that the place was best avoided. No fun to be had in there, they said.

In the party went. The factory doors led into a wooden hallway with a curtain pulled across a door. They pulled this aside and found a large saloon like room. There was a bar with an old mistress pouring beer. There were many empty tables, overlooked by a high up gangway, holding many bedroom doors. In the centre was a stage, where a poor girl cried and tried to sing. Before her, leaning in a chair, was a bulky dwarf who hurled bottles at the girl. 

“Come on girl, you call this entertainment, sing damn it.” The dwarf yelled. A bottle smashed at her feet.  

The party sat down and ordered some drinks. Andros the cleric took the time to scan the minds of those in the bar with his medallion of ESP. The old matron was simmering with hate for the dwarf, who was her slave master. The girl was terrified. Girin the dwarf was enjoying his sadistic cruelty. 

The party struck up a little conversation with the matron, she warned them not to stay too long, for Girin was in a particularly bad mood. Davy enquired, “Surely this dwarf was ruining the business, how was it that he was allowed to do so?” The mistress said that he was very well connected, and tolerated by his bosses as a favourite. 

Soon the dwarf came over to the party and began to intimidate them, asking if they enjoyed the show. The party did well to remain calm and not provoke him. Almost as a taunt, the dwarf then pulled out one of the stolen lutes, and began breaking strings whilst butchering a song. 

Eventually things came to a head. As Andros confronted the dwarf, Tully pulled out a scroll of charm person and began to read from it. Girin had the initiative however, and he grabbed Andros and pushed a dagger against his throat. 

“Finish casting that spell and I’ll cut his throat.” He barked.

Andros nodded to his retainer, “Do it!” He yelled. The spell was cast, and the words became sulphurous smoke coiling from the page. The Dwarves eyes glistened momentarily, but he swung his massive head and shrugged off the magic. The dagger was drawn across Andros’ throat. The rest of the party leaped on the dwarf to try and pull the dagger away, but he was immensely powerful and bulldozed through them. Andros fell to the ground with his throat opened, but still alive. 

The party encircled him, but again, Girin was swift, he came at Malik with his dagger, which scraped off the human’s plate male. Tully then pulled out his scroll and cast charm person. This time the spell took. 

“What are we doing?” Said the dwarf, his eyes suddenly full of golden light and confusion. 

With things calmed down the party collected the instruments. The matron of the cathouse called to them. “You are making a terrible mistake, you should not mess with his ilk.” The party shrugged, the spell was cast, they had already committed to this course of action. 

With Girin charmed they learned that he was connected with a shadowy organisation named ‘The Guild.’ He had messed up a mission for this institution, usually this would have meant death, but since he was a blood brother with the local guild leader, he was instead left to operate this bordello. 

“The Guild are obsessed with finding six children who have tattoos on their backs. These tattoos are said to be a map to find the City of Splendours, a lost land said to be cobbled with gemstones. A fools errand if you ask me, our efforts should be more focussed on banditry, like the old days. See here …” Girin showed them a map, “our secret base where all the gold of our raids is kept. The Guild should once again cut the throats of travellers and fill our pockets with gold.” 

The map showed a location twenty four miles to the north, a location known as The Manse of the Troll King, a cliffside castle of great antiquity. A place that can only be seen under the light of the full moon.

The party took the map. 

Then Girin offered to take his new friends to meet the guild master. They accepted. 

They walked across town to the fish market. In a back ally they found an battered cobbler shop. An old man answered the door, and when Girin explained he was taking his new friends inside a scrap ensued. The old man was knocked down, and his grey hair fell off. A wig! The man, suddenly lithe, dashed down into the cellar to raise an alarm. 

The party quickly withdrew from the shop, leaving Girin behind, and went to their camp. They packed up their camp and rode north, for they knew one of the moons was full on the ‘morrow. Time to break into the Guilds hideout.

Riding fast along the rich grasslands, with the golden sun arising, they made good pace. On the way, into a new map hex, they saw a tall tower made mostly from iron. The tower was five levels tall, and powdery with rust. Atop the tower was a statue of a nun like figure. A saint of some kind. 

On they rode, eventually coming to a gorge with a dried up river. This they followed for a full day. They made camp a little away from where the map said the castle was, and waited for the moon to rise. 

With the rising of the two moons, one of the smoother cliff faces suddenly dissolved into a two towered gatehouse. The western tower had collapsed. The huge gate was carved in the shape of a troll’s face. They saw lights in the eastern tower, and several shadows within, passing before the arrow slits. 

The party waited a little longer. Soon a few riders came to the keep, flashing a signal with their lantern. The doors were opened and the riders went inside. 

At this point the party thought better of assaulting the castle, even though they knew many treasures were sure to be inside. They camped, and tried to sleep. All the party members had odd dreams of the nun like figure they’d seen atop the iron tower earlier that day.  

Unfortunately a random encounter was rolled for that night. Four guards came out of the keep and began trailing the gorge on the look out for interlopers. The party launched a few arrows at them, one finding purchase. The guards closed their lantern and rushed back, towards the keep. Panicked that they would soon be swarmed with bandits, the party got atop their steeds and rushed south. 

Unfortunately, as they passed the guardsmen, arrows were fired into the party’s rear, a footman was killed, Davy was hit brutally in the helmet and was knocked unconscious from the saddle. He was quickly picked up. Then the party had to ride past the castle proper. More arrows were loosed from the tower, one of which hit Vahan’s steed. The party made away, but soon the steed became weak and dropped dead. 

“Poisoned arrows. Those swine.”

With day breaking again, the party decided they would breach the iron tower with the nun statue. They made good time as dawn arrived, reaching the tower at around eight in the morning. 

They formed up a marching order thusly: 

1st rank: Hodorun 

2nd rank: Malik +Thalzir

3rd rank: Vahan +Davy + Cirin

4th rank: Glenn +Zi

The rest stayed with the horses on guard. 

Entering the triangular tower, they saw a relief of a nun burning skeletons with a torch around the door. The front door has been smashed inwards. In the first room there was an altar made of steel with a sculpture of a torch. In the north there was a spiral staircase, atop this was a statue of the pointing nun. A voice boomed throughout the room, “Steel is stronger than Bone. Offer up thine.” 

The party deliberated a little, then put some of their weapons upon the altar as tribute. A gong like sound fired off in the room. The party then proceeded to the next level. 

The next room was triangular as well, and the floor was made of highly polished steel, polished into a mirror like surface. In the south was another staircase. Hodorun was ordered to run to the southern door. As he did so he slipped over, and had to crawl to the door. The party then, one by one, crawled across the slippery surface to the stairway. 

The next level had a massive font in its centre, which was erupting with steam. The bellowing steam was being vacuumed up into two huge gargoyle’s mouths. The party took a long time deciding what to do here. They tried to throw some torches into the font to see if that would reduce the steam. Davy approached the steam to see if it was deadly, and deemed it would be, if one got too close. Eventually the party circled the room hugging the wall, and passed below one of the gargoyles. Then they were off onto the next floor. 

The forth floor was square in shape. In the east there was a mosaic of the nun, she was reclining on a chais longe, her habit opened at the throat, revealing her sharply form, and she drank wine from a skull. In the east was a bronze statue of a laughing fat man in lotus position, a monkey atop his head. The cleric Zi recognised this as the laughing god. In the south there was a highly realistic stone statue of a warrior in a battle pose. This latter statue faced the spiral staircase in the centre of the room that went up. 

The party took their time with this room, investigating the various statues. The stairwell in the centre stank to high heaven. The stone statue had no plinth and was eerily realistic. The bronze statue of the laughing god had a magical ring on one of its fingers, but the party would have to break the finger to get it off, and decided not to do this. 

They went up to the final level. On the stairway up there were hundreds of gold coins strewn about, and an empty sack. At the top they saw a room filled with hanging rags, the stench here was unbelievably bad. There were even more gold coins on the floor, and a statue of a man laid down trying to cover his face. 

A voice echoed out from inside the chamber. It proclaimed to be the goddess of the tower, cursed to be trapped here. When questioned why she couldn’t leave, she told out how an evil guardian kept her here. A massive four armed man with a bulls head. If they slew the guardian, she would be free and gift them all the gold they could see within. The party agreed, and marched through the hanging rags. Their visibility was incredibly poor. Their feet were marching through hundreds upon hundreds of gold coins. Eventually one of them stood atop a skull, cracking it in twine. Then, by the final door they saw a statue of a wizard screaming, and holding his face. 

“Before you go into the next chamber, I have something to offer you, my heroes.” The woman called from behind them, she was laughing mockingly. The party turned, and saw a hooded women dressed in rags. She pulled down her hood and revealed her hideous face, wreathed with snakes. 

Almost the entire party instantly turned to stone upon looking at her. All save Malik and Vahan. The woman laughed, and told them it had been a long while since someone had not succumbed to her visage, she would enjoy slaying them. She ducked behind the flowing rags that hung from the ceiling.

Malik threw oil, and missed. Vahan drew his cloak over his eyes and dashed towards her. His blade struck true and inflicted maximum damage. She screamed. She tried to lash Vahan with her snake hair, but missed. Then Malik, holding his hand mirror before his face, changed into battle. The two warriors both struck true, Vahan again hitting with max damage, but it was Malik with his magic sword that struck the killing blow. The Medusa screamed and fell onto her hoard of coins, withering into a crispy waif of snake skin. Victory! 

The two warriors searched around a little, before sweeping up the huge hoard of gems and coins, finding a map also. The map lead to the Cave of Souls, many, many leagues to the east, where, in a secret cavern grotto, a statue of Apollo held two arrows that could slay any creature. 

The next stairway led to the roof, which was pyramidal, and atop this was the statue of the nun like figure. Malik dared to look upon her, the statue turned to him, smiled. His Wisdom increased by one point. Vahan refused to look at the saint. 

All the guarding characters helped Vahan and Malik to collect the masses of treasure, and they all rode back to Ronton-on-Fie to enjoy the splendours of their victory. 

New player Hex map

DL Campaign Session 14

This session saw the largest party in this campaign yet, something that seems to be essential at low levels in BX, if a success is to be expected. The party go into the dilapidated elven temple of Omiron, to hunt the demon worshipping cultists of Trazn’grozan. 


Characters

Vahan – Fighter 1 

Andros – Cleric 1 

Davy – Fighter 1 

Aetos – Magic-user 1 

Malik – Fighter 2 

Retainers 

(Andros) 

Guludad – Magic user 1 

Tully – Magic user 1 

Hestia – Cleric 1 

 Kull – man-at-arms

(Aeotos) 

Sharaf – Thief 1 

Zont – fighter 1 

(Malik) 

Thalzir – Barbarian 2 

Farrow – Thief 1 

Cornleia Nerva – Paladin 1 

2 light foot pirates.


The party had been resting at the villa of lord Blanbot for four days. Resting from their wounds. During their downtime a visitor came to the villa seeking audience with the lord. All the party were welcomed into the feast hall for the visit. Here is the pbp text the players received: 

A dark rider arrived at the villa last night. He called out to the guards upon the tower, who sent a herald to parlay with him. He entered the villa and was given a chamber. Today you are all called into the feast hall of Blanbot. Maloni is there, and ushers you to stand along the walls of the vestibule. Blanbot is his sat on his throne, dressed in sparkling plate armour with a large cape of blue and white coiled around him. The heavy horsemen are all present, they look very neat and carry their lances on one shoulder. This feels very much like a show of strength. A horn is blown and the doors are opened to the vestibule, a roar echoes from outside. 

“I am Mongke, son of Dax, Herald of Lord Sabe, exulted warlord of the Deshi Hill, Overlord of Castle Takova, Immortal warrior, chosen child of the deity Wei To, and most superior under all of heaven.” 

The man enters the chamber, he is wearing leather armour pitted with razor sharp spikes, he has a helmet of bronze, lined with fur and two ram horns. His face is dark, bearded, and serious. He bows very incrementally towards Blanbot. 

“Honour to you, and to house Hondo.” He says. 

Blanbot nods, “good stead to you and your lord. What beckons a herald of the powerful warlord Sabe to my villa?” 

The barbarian herald smirks, pulls a scroll from his belt, which also holds a sabre, a flail, and a dagger. He opens it and reads aloud. “Word has reached the mantle of the chosen child of heaven, Lord Sabe, that the one named Blanbot has driven off a deadly beast of the underworld. A dragon. Splitting his hide like a swine’s, and has stolen his hoard of treasure. Good tidings. Lord Sabe offers his approval and puts forth the invitation for the one named Blanbot to join His Golden Hoard in the crusade against the apemen of Thoru Fa. Spring fast approaches; so does War”


There is silence in the court for a moment. Then the barbarian smiles and adds, “Muster in one calendar month at the walls of Castle Tokova. Fight well.” 

Blanbot stands, a darkness over his face, and he nods. He approaches the barbarian and shakes his hand in the fashion of the Easterling, gripping the forearm and touching his forehead against the barbarians. 

“A celebration then, bring wine and music, and a our finest dancers.” The rest of the evening there is a banquet, but Blanbot seems sullen and moody.

Malik then talked to the lord discovering that he felt slightly trapped, and that he must go to war or incur the wrath of the warlord in the south. Blanbot would soon make preparations; having his court wizard seal the villa with wizard locks, and then seek out a sherif and magistrate to govern whilst he is away. 

In the mean time the player party had grown large, far larger than the amount of mounts available. So the first thing that needed sorting out at the start of the session was transportation. The party have been moving around the two hexes on horses for a little while, but they didn’t have enough for this number. So Davy, Vahan, Andros, Thalzir and Malik rode to the town of Ronton on Fie to buy more horses with their treasure. 

When they arrived it was around 2 pm. They knew the horse breeders and tradesmen of this town well by now, and went straight to the stables. The deal was about to be made for five extra mares. Andros lifted his sack of coins to find it had been switched with a bag of rocks! He looked around the market, noticing a hooded figure at the edge of the market attempting to hide under the eaves of a shop, poorly. This figure had strapped to their chest a heaving satchel. 

The party first tried to close on the man calmly, but as they moved towards him, he moved away in a panic. 

“Grab the horses!”  Yelled Andros, desperate to get his six hundred coins back. The mares were mounted, and whipped down the market, peasants flailed aside to avoid being trampled. The party caught up with the man and encircled him. 

“The money, now!” 

The thief looked about wildly, “certainly,” he said, and threw his heavy satchel into a stall. It burst open with coins. Andros dashed for the gold, Davy threw a lasso at the man, but missed. The thief made away into the markets many stalls. 

“Close call.” 

The horses were bought, then the riders went back to the villa. By the time they arrived it was after dark and the horses were tired. 

The next day the party readied an expedition roughly twenty four miles east, up into the hills of Omiron. They set off just before dawn and arrived just after two in the afternoon. The temple was before them, a huge columned thing atop a hill. This time its large double doors were pinned open with spikes. 

“Another adventuring party must have come here.” 

Inside the doors was a huge chamber lined with columns. Two lanterns were lit, and the party formed up in an imposing battle line. This was their marching order: 

(Left to right) 

1st rank: Malik, Thalzir, Andros

2nd rank : Zont, Davy, Vahan 

3rd rank: Sharaf, Farrow

4th rank: Aetos, Tully, Guludad 

5th Cornelia, Hestia, Kull 

3 hirelings guard the horses 300 yards outside the temple. 

All was ready. In they went. Inside the columned vestibule there came a cackling laugh from outside the range of the lantern’s light. The voice was gruff and mocked them. 

“They said you would return, they paid me to kill you. But I am kind, leave me the fat ones for dinner and the rest of you can leave unharmed.” 

“By the sword!” Vahan cried. The party wheeled its formation to face the voice in the dark.  Initiative was rolled, the monster won. Out of the shadows a eight foot tall beastman with greasy white flesh launched itself at the front rank. It was naked and had a huge maw and massive talons. It smashed into Aetos and with its claws ripped open his chest. The holy man fell to the ground bleeding out. 

Guludad had already begun reading from his scroll. The two thieves, Farrow and Sharaf moved out of formation, encircling the beast and loosed arrows into its back. One of the arrows found purchase. 

“It bleeds, we can kill it!” 

Guludad’s scroll erupted in eldritch flames, the spell was cast: haste. 

The assault from the first two ranks was absolutely ruthless. Steel flashed again and again, the polearms of the second rank battering the creatures pale flesh. 

It lay dead on the ground.

Andros was aided with the use of a bandage, and he limped his way back to the horses, he would need days of rest to recover from this. The party would continue onwards. 

The battle line went through the eastern archway into the room that was lined with minotaur columns around a huge pit. To their surprise (literally) the monster they had just killed stood up, reattached its arm and head, and charged their back rank. 

Unfortunately the princess Cordelia Nerva was the one who took the brunt of the assault, falling dead under its talons. 

The still hasted party won initiative on the next round and surrounded the creature, making light work of him. 

“Let’s throw its corpse down the pit.”

“But that will feed whats down there.”

“Lets burn it then.” 

So that’s what they did. 

With the smell of burning flesh at their backs the party went into the next colossal chamber. It was domed and held in the centre a far older black ziggurat. Last time they were here they had entered the rear of the ziggurat and found a hatchery of the bird headed beastmen. This time they went through the southern door. 

The first room inside had obviously been cleared out. There were poles hanging that would have hung tapestries. There were scrape marked on the floor where some very large piece of furniture had been removed. 

“Oh well.” 

There was a door in the north and they went through this. The room beyond was large and had two doors in the east, and two doors in the west. The rooms walls were covered with magical frescoes that let off orange light. The frescoes changed; one minute showing elves in battle, then mist, then elves in meditation. 

They listened at all the doors before going inside them, also checking for traps. The south-western door was tried first. They found a smashed room with an obsidian statue that had been cruelly defaced. Th head of the statue had been cut off, the arms removed, and all over it, written in the dark tongue, was graffiti lambasting law and promoting chaos. 

The party noticed that the fresco room changed colour as they went into the door; from green to red. 

Next they tried the south-east door. When the door was opened sand poured out of it. There was a huge pile of sand within. After a little discussion, Davy made the decision to begin scrapping out the sand. Over the next thirty minutes most of the characters started removing sand, wondering if a trapdoor might be underneath. 

Hidden below they found a fallen statue of a burly elf with bull horns. After they tidied it up it the statue seemed to smile, and it its hands appeared many gems and a vial of red liquid. Gifts of the gods. 

The room outside now turned blue. 

The party approached the north-west door. They found it very cold to the touch and decided to not open this yet. They went to the north-east door and opened that instead. Inside was a wet room, sodden with puddles, in the centre was a pink corral statue that held a golden trident. The statue had been seriously eroded by water, so much so that no features were present. 

Only five characters were brave enough to enter the room: Vahan, Davy, Malik, Farrow, and Kull. As they entered, the trident crackled with energy, and from the statue strings of magical seaweed grew about their feet, stickling them to the ground. They couldn’t move  an inch and began panicking. Within seconds a cloud began forming above the trident, and this rapidly spread out of the whole ceiling. It began to rain inside the room. The party tried to hack at the seaweed, but their weapons stuck to the material rather than cutting it. 

Malik pushed Farrow to see if he could free him, but the thief fell like a broom pole onto his back and was completely stuck. Davy tied a rope around his waist and threw it to the characters outside the door. They managed to heave him out. Vahan lit a torch and put fire to the magical seaweed. It erupted into flames, burning him horribly, but his feet were free! 

In the next round the storm overhead was getting violent, and thunderclaps were growing loud. The rope was loosed onto Malik who was pulled to safety. But poor Farrow was caught in the burning weeds and died in agony. In the next round the rope was thrown over Thalzir and the blue skinned barbarian was pulled to safety, just as a huge lighting bolt hit the ground behind him. 

“This room, this bloody room.”

The door was closed. 

The party tried the last room. Inside were sheets of ice on the walls. A frozen birdman was on the ground. The statue in this room was a crab clawed elf with a large crown. 

Davy stuck some cheese on the edge of his halberd and pushed it through the doorway. It froze, then his weapon turned blue, suddenly a blue wave of magical light washed over them all. Each character had to save vs spells, only two succeeded, Malik and Kull. The rest were assaulted by a powerful vision. 

In the vision they were an elf carrying a silver halberd with a crescent moon blade. They had elven allies aside them, and they were fighting terrible demons in a dark hallway. Eventually the elves were pushed back into a holy chamber. The elf pulled out a lion headed wand and thrust it into the crystal altar. When the demons breeched the door the lion wand spat a flute of flame at them, killing them. The elves then opened a secret door in the wall, where there were thousands of gold coins. They then went inside the hidden chamber, and stood inside crystal sarcophagus that sent them into magical sleep. 

The details of these rooms were explained in detail to the players. 

The party then gathered up their treasure, and left the temple discussing theories on where the hidden altar room, guarded by a lion wand, might be. 

They mounted their steeds and went back to civilisation. 

Judges note: I am finding it quite satisfying using random targeting for monsters, and monster attack repertoires only being able to target one character. I copied this ruling from AD&D and it makes for a far more fair and interesting game. Malik just scraped enough xp this session to reach level 3. Well done. 

DL Campaign Session 13

In this play report the PCs travel back to the elven ruin of Omiron. They had been sent there by Lord Blanbot, to clear out the new cult that appears to be worshipping a demonic entity named Tranz’grozan. 


Characters 

Malik – Fighter 2 – A Thalazian blade master and leader of a gang of land pirates. 

Aetos – Magic-user 1 – An Urr experimenter in the arcane. 

Thalzir – Barbarian 1 – a blue skinned warrior with a short temper. 

Retainers 

Cornelia Nerva – Normal Human – this noblewoman was saved from Thouls in session 12. 

3 pirate thieves – two are light footmen and one is a thief 1. 

Sharif – Thief 1 – Aetos’ trusted retainer. 

Zont – Fighter 1 – a brawny swordsman. 

Tib – Elf 1 – a light footed marksman. 

Forta – Magic-user 1 – a pot bellied academic. 


During the party’s downtime there had been a little rest and travel. Malik had been training Cornelia in the way of the sword. The cleric Andros ordered his two magic user retainers to craft spell scrolls. The large party of twelve travelled 18 miles west from Renton on Fie on their horses to the villa of Lord Blanbot, who was becoming a patron of theirs. 

At his villa they discovered he was raising a mercenary force to head back to the black mound of the dragon who had slain him. Malik informed the Lord about the cult inside the old temple of Omiron. That they were using women to recruit men into their ranks, and that he believed these men were being used as sacrifices to some dark deity. 

Blanbot gave the order to execute all known cultists, and hence bring the rule of law back to the region. For the clearing of the temple he would pay the party 500gp. Then he set about organising his campaign to the south. 

Aetos the mage was still residing at Blanbot’s manor, and had been staying there for about six weeks since session 6. His player took up control of him once again and he joined the party on their ride back to Renton on Fie. 

The party spent one day in the lake-side town, gathering up rumours, and employing some extra retainers. Zont, a fighter. Tib, an elf. Forta, a magic user. Each was offered one share of treasure, except the elf who made a deal for one and a half shares. 

This large party of eleven hopped on their mares and rode out to the temple, deep in cultist country. 

When they arrived it was around eleven in the morning. They surveyed the temple. This time there were only to guards at the temples large doors. Each wore black togas, and bronze face plates, carrying halberds. The lighter armed members of the party, Tib, Sharif, and the three pirate thieves, snuck up to one hundred and fifty yards away and rained stones and arrows on the two men. They fell quickly. 

Then the rest of the party approached the doors, pushed them inwards, and again stared into the dark vestibule of the temple, lined with it’s many columns. In the centre was a strange fungal man who gave out a terrible high pitched scream. The party charged into it and cut it down. But beyond the two northern arches there came a rattling bell. The denizens of the temple knew someone was here. 

The party very carefully marched towards the two archways in the north. They heard a lot of shuffling about in the next room, but no-one came through the portal. Clearly a trap was being laid for them. The party decided on moving to the eastern archway and marched forward through it. Beyond, they saw halberds held aloft and sandalled feet on the ground. The party launched burning oil down in front of them, hoping to harass the waiting warriors. But the lines of the enemy reformed after a few seconds, several men rushing past the arch. Then, a huge clatter of doors echoed from the north, followed by terrible screeching and the quick steps of clawed feet. The birdmen reinforcements were arriving. The bring lantern oil slowly diminished, and the party decided to rush through the arch and attack before the bird headed beastmen could reinforce the enemies ranks. 

Malik and Thalzir took the front line, dashing forward to meet three cultists wielding halberds. Three vulture headed men were just to the east, rushing forward in a frenzy. Now that the back ranks of the party were in the tunnel of the archway, more cultists charged through the eastern arch, seeking to flank the interlopers. 

Luckily the party won the initiative. Malik hit multiple cultists with his magical sword. Thalzir bound the enemies blades, the spear armed thieves in the second rank thrust and stabbed. Cornelia, who had all but six days of sword training, rushed to defend the back rank from the flanking cultists, along with Sharif. 

The birdmen collided with the parties front rank, they were being pincered in the narrow archway. That was when Aetos loosed his sleep spell. Every single one of the enemies fell asleep, and their throats were promptly slit. 

The party moved through next area that bore a huge pit in the centre. Then they moved north into the inner sanctum of the temple. This was a huge domed space, in the centre was a black ziggurat. In the north was an ancient high altar with a pantheon stood atop, only each of the statues had been smashed from the hip up. The party marched around the ziggurat towards the high altar. The northern wall of the ziggurat had three doors leading inside, and the high altar itself had a single stone door. 

The party listened at both, hearing nothing, then entered the high altar room. Inside, amongst wretched stench and offal, were six bird headed beastmen, and a dog with the head of a vulture. A quick battle took place at the doorway. With their newly found halberds in the second rank, the party made light work of them, slaying them all. Around the largest birdman’s neck was a gold medallion and a key. This Birman also carried a silvered halberd of elvish design. All were pilfered. 

This key, they found, opened the central door into the ziggurat. Inside there was a smashed room where three terrible fugal men lurked. The party charged into them and within two rounds had cut them all down. Beyond were two more doors. 

They opened one door and found a silk lined room, hazed with the smoke of fragrant hashish. Amongst the smoke, fourteen scantily clad women basked and writhed. The party didn’t go inside this boudoir, worried they would be drugged from its atmosphere. 

They instead tried the other door, and after moving through a desolate room of smashed carvings, found a room containing an old crone wearing a bird mask. This woman dangled live worms into the gullet of six featherless bird-headed children, who squawked and hopped for their meal. The woman began to sermonise how her sweet children would grow up to form a powerful empire. 

The party briefly considered slaying all inside the room, to which the crone began intoning the name of her dark deity, Tranz’grozan. The party slew her immediately, but let the accursed children live. These chicken fleshed boys began to devour their brood mother’s carcass immediately. 

The party decided to leave, for now. But on their way out they encountered a dark cleric. This decadent fellow was clad in leather armour and a bearskin cloak, he called out for reinforcements and began swinging at the party with his mace. They made light work of him, decapitating him in the same round Tib had cast light into his eyes. Malik scooped up his glowing head like a lantern, and out they all marched. 

They rode their mounts back to the village of Renton on Fie and took a few days rest, selling the golden medallion for a good price. Then they proceeded back to Blanbot’s villa to collect his reward of 500gp. The Lord was still away on his crusade to the dragon mound in the south. 

Judges note. 

I would normally show the party’s map, but the temple uses a commercial map which I have keyed. Cornelia has now levelled up to become a paladin. 

DL Campaign Session 12

In this session report, the party seek to rescue some merchants from the clutches of a band of thouls.


Characters 

Malik – Fighter 2 – A Thalazian blade master and leader of a gang of pirates. 

Andros – Cleric 1 – a lawful good priest of high morals 

Thalzir – Barbarian 1 – a blue skinned warrior with a short temper. 

Retainers 

Hestia – Cleric 1 – carrying her stag holy symbol 

Kall – man-at-arms – a swordsman 

Guludad – Magic-user 1 – claims to be a great and powerful mage. 

Tully – Magic-user 1 – a bumbling wreck 

Six land pirates – thief 1 – though most of these are employed as light footmen guards. 


After returning from the temple of Omiron, the party took a few days to heal from their wounds. Whilst doing so they heard a rumour that three merchants had gone missing, captured whilst in the south. The large fish market of Renton on Fie pooled a reward for their safe return. 

The PCs were not the only adventurers interested in claiming this bounty, at least four other adventuring parties had mustered and were prepared to try and find these missing merchants. The race was on. The PCs had one advantage however, they had many horses and mules. So they set off south one hex and began searching. They followed the bridal ways and found no evidence of footfall. They spread out their search, and after four hours they concluded that the wooded bluff in the north-east of the hex was probably the best place to look. There they found humanoid tracks and followed them to a cave mouth where many human bones were strewn about. 

Malik had two of his thieves go up the cliff face to search for additional entrances. Unfortunately one of them fell thirty fee to the ground and died. Poor Eden, RIP. The remaining thief searched and found nothing. So the party entered the cave. 

What originally appeared as a cave soon gave way to a delicately carved tunnel leading towards an arch capped with a carving of a crying elven maiden. This arch led to a set of deep stone stairs. The party went down. 

There was a long corridor and a door to the west. They went inside the door and found large chamber lined with arches. A door in the south had a stone carving of an elven warrioress above it holding a bronze great sword aloft. The party listened at the door and heard footfall approaching. They set up a trap. The door soon opened to reveal a green skinned man with long white hair down to his buttocks. He had great claws that dripped black ichor. There was a brief showdown, the green man intimidating them and telling them to leave his lair. The magician Guludad successfully cast charm person on him. With the monster hypnotised into believing Guludad was a friend, the party questioned him thoroughly. 

They learned: 

  • he was the leader of three monsters, they laired in the north, inside a chamber that would only open with his key. 
  • They had many kobold slaves guarding their captives.  
  • The green skinned man had many treasures hidden away in the north. 
  • There were some dwarves to the west, who had paid him many gems to allow them to mine here. 

The monster, named Grima, took to hugging the magic user Guludad, and was becoming increasingly protective and covetous of him. The party convinced the monster that Guludad could help protect his gems from thievery with magic, so off they went to complete this mission. Grima led them him towards his lair, where his brothers dwelled. They came upon a large stone door. The key around Grima’s neck unlocked the chamber, causing the stone door to recede into the floor. Inside there was a smoky chamber with two figures next to a fire. In the north a large pile of coins glistened. 

Grima began conversing in goblinoid with his kinsman and was becoming increasingly confused. His brothers were trying to convince him he’d been tricked or cursed. The large clawed Grima dragged Guludad to the north. Grima’s two brothers then charged at the party. 

There were a tense few rounds of combat, Malik, Thalzir, and Andros were in the front rank attacking the two monsters, the spears of their thieves helping from the second rank. Eventually the magic user Tully used his sleep spell and it worked a charm. Then the PCs slew them whilst they slept and threw their bodies into the fire.

The party then counted out the treasure finding many silver and gold pieces, a medallion with a rune carved onto it, and a special sword with a rune embossed on it. 

They spend about thirty minutes putting coins into sacks whilst Andros figured out what the medallion did. He found that when he concentrated he could read minds, but only within thirty feet. A powerful artefact. 

Then the party went north, through a series of alcoves and found a closed portcullis. The arch of this portcullis had a carving of an elven queens wearing a bronze crown on either side. Andros could hear the panicked thoughts of Guludad, who was locked in a darkened room. He also heard the thoughts of the monster. 

The thief Kirk pulled on the crown of the right statue and the portcullis rose up. 

What transpired next were some severe mind games. Andros attempted to convince the the monster they were leaving, all the while reading its mind from where it hid in the north, gaslighting it, and trying to enrage it into attacking. This eventually worked and the monster charged them at in the portcullis gate. 

The party threw burning oil onto the monster, and Kirk pulled the crown of the right statue, hoping this would cause the portcullis to fall, but unfortunately his finger was pricked by a hidden needle. He immediately died. 

The battle raged for a few rounds, Andros was hit and became paralysed. Malik was also hit but managed to fight off the poison of Grima’s claws. Then, the battle was over, the monster was defeated. 

The key was taken from the monsters neck and the large stone door inside the room was opened. It receded into the floor and Guludad was saved. The party located a sack of thirty gems. One turn after the door was opened the stone door once again closed and the portcullis dropped. There were two identical statues on this side of the portal, Malik had another thief pull on the left statues crown and it rose up. 

The party had a difficult decision to make then. They had much treasure but they hadn’t located the prisoners. So they went south. Another thief died to a pit trap, then they went through a secret door and headed east. They found a guard post with two kobolds and killed them. Then they went through a series of trapped rooms. The first had carvings of moths, when Thalzir went through the archway some strange dust fell on his head. He wasn’t feeling so well but he didn’t die. The next room had a circular room with dragon headed doorways. Grates were in the floor below these doors. The dragon carvings spewed acid down when they were opened. The party managed to bypass them by stuffing food stuffs into the mouths of the dragons. 

Then they came upon a room of Kobolds. These dog headed men were having a tussle, and the party took full advantage of this and charged into the room killing four of them outright. The beastmen surrendered. 

The kobolds led the party to the captive merchants and freed them. Inside the prison was also a noble woman named Cordelia Nerva, she was also freed. Then the kobolds led the party to the exit, where they made their way back to town atop their steeds and enjoyed the bounty of their treasures and the reward for saving the merchants. 

Below is the party map of the Elven Catacombs. 

DL Campaign Session 11

During this weeks game, Malik returns from his journey to the north. Vahan escapes the Emerald Citadel. Together, with some new friends, they strike out towards the temple of Omiron, where they have heard a new cult is rising. 


Characters 

Maik – Fighter 2 – A Thalazian Blade Master, and keeper of a score of land pirates. 

Vahan – Fighter 1 – a gruff warrior, swathed in the stolen robe of an Elven King. 

Pilas – Fighter 1 – A roaming warrior, tall and hewn. 

Retainers 

Thalzir – Fighter 1 – a barbarous pirate, lost of his ship and sworn into the service of Malik. 

Six thieves (lvl 1 ) – all wretched cutthroats from the gutters of Acron city. 

Timin – Dwarf 1 – an underling of Vahan, clad in glittering plate mail. 

Uman – Magic-user 1 – A Scoran sorcerer of primeval cunning. 


During the last session we had a slight cliffhanger, with two PCs trapped within the ruined temple to Omiron. These players couldn’t make the game unfortunately, so our calendar moves forward. 

Malik had returned to Blanbot’s manor after a two week jaunt to the captial; more information on his journeys to soon follow.  

Vahan had been left in the Emerald Citadel over a week ago. We made some escape rolls for him, and he luckily made it out and back to the village of Ronton on Fie, though lacking some items and without his beloved squire.

This pair met up in Ronton on Fie, Malik followed by a land pirates, and together they made their plans. Lord Blanbot had asked for them to investigate the temple of Omiron, where strange cultists had been gathering. 

Soon they made acquaintance with the fighter Pilas. Then the party searched out some retainers; finding the Dwarf Timin, and the magic user Uman. 

At the inn of the Blubbering Whale they made contact with a strange crooked man. His name was Vitius Fallow. He wanted to be escorted to the temple of Omiron, for he had in his possession an amulet that had caused him terrible luck. He’d heard that there was a bottomless pit within the temple, and he wished to rid himself of the amulet, and his poor luck, by casting it therein. For this he would reward them a pouch of gems. 

So they set off atop fine mares. Within a day they crosses a river and rose up into the hills. They saw the temple before them. For a few hours the party laid within the bracken, observing. Soon enough they saw a gaggle of beautiful women leading an adventuring party towards the temple. 

Vahan, with his magical elven boots and cape, followed after them. This adventuring party consisted of a Dwarf, two thieves, and a magic-user. It appeared the women had spent the night with them, and now the men were to be initiated into the temple. They led the adventurers beyond the columned gate and Vahan, going totally unseen in his magic cloak, followed after them. 

The party remained hidden outside, but after the dwarf and his men entered the temple, they saw the women bar the door. A little panicked by this, they began moving towards the women.

Inside the temple, there was a huge vestibule lined with many columns. The floor was totally covered with sand. In the north twelve men approached wearing white togas and black masks in the shape of skulls. 

There was a heated exchange between the dwarven leader of the adventuring party and the cultists. They wanted him to give over their weapons, put on togas, and be taken before the master. The dwarf flatly refused, so the men rang a bell, and from a great columned arch in the north a terrible screeching echoed forth. 

Vahan watched all this, hidden against a column and closely wrapped in his cloak. The dwarf tried to smash the door to make an exit, but found it utterly impenetrable. The cultists closed distance upon them. The magic-user cast his sleep spell, but only two of the cultists fell to the ground. The cultists clashed into the ranks, and in the north six strange vulture headed men came forth, wielding terrible serrated blades. The adventurers yielded, were cast into chains, and dragged away. Vahan could finally breath, but not without perspiration. 

Outside the temple Malik led the players party towards the women of the cult. They tried to woo with their charms, offering to bed them, to rub oil into their aching backs. Malik was having none of this, and with a lashing stroke from his pommel he sent the women fleeing in abject terror. 

The doors were opened. Vahan stood within and explained all he’d seen. The party made a quick plan. They would get to this pit, cast in the amulet, and leave quickly. They marched forward, and beyond the columned vestibule found a huge chamber with a recessed area in the centre. The walled were lined with marble statues of minotaurs holding severed demonic heads. In the central recessed area, by a huge circular pit, were the bird-headed beastmen. They were beating the dwarf and his crew. 

Vahan crept into the room, unseen, and watched. Some of the cultists went off, but soon returned with an evil cleric clad in chainmail. This dark lord carried a giants skull as a bowl, and after a laborious speech about the virtues of the flesh, he splashed some terrible dark fluid onto the captives, causing them to scream terribly. 

After this strange rite, the cleric moved away to the north, sending the toga wearing cultists back towards the pillar room. 

The party set up their trap, and as the twelve cultists walked in to the room, they struck. 

In all but ten seconds the party killed four of the cultists and wounded another. The barrage of their blades and spears was devastating. The cultists fled back into the pit chamber, morale totally crushed. The party chased after them, and luckily caught the bird-headed beastmen unawares. The party lined up at the edge of the recessed area, utilising the higher ground, and rained blows down on the birdmen.

Vitius cast the amulet into the pit. Then the beastmen began to split, some battled from the lower area, casting hand axes and javelins, one catching Timin and felling him, the others went up a set of stairs and sought to charge the party’s line. 

Just in time Uman cast his sleep spell. The birdmen fell into magical slumber and the battle was over. 

The party slit their throats and recovered a fine gold medallion. Then they helped the captees to freedom, though the terrible black liquid had caused some malign growths to form on their faces. 

They exited the temple, took to their mounts, and fled back to the town of Ronton on Fie. As they left the dark cleric shouted some bitter words of revenge through the northern portal. 

Another adventure complete, and many gems claimed as reward. What will they do next time?

DL Campaign Session 10

This session involved a TPK, and a harsh one, considering we had a level up recently and the PCs had Hippogriff mounts. Nothing lasts forever though. 


Player Characters: 

Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 2 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers.

Tiaathque – Elf 1 – a mysterious elven warrioress. 

Ithitus – Assassin 1 – A killer in the making. 

Characters after the TPK 

Ari – Fighter 1 

Lelni – Fighter 1 

Maron – retainer – non combatant NH

Phohas – retainer – Thief 1 


We’d finished the last session with a bit of a cliff hanger. The ghost of Niarchos was looming over Jassan when he awoke. Twenty days had passed since Niarchos had taken the sword of the undead Gunther Wyrmslayer. The curse was coming close. 

Jassan managed to use his turn undead ability fairly rapidly, and the gurning ghost vanished. He was safe for now. There were still a few hours before dawn, so the party tried to get back to sleep with Tiaathque on watch. 

This was where the first in a series of unlucky rolls took place. I rolled a random encounter of twenty mountain gazelles. The elven guard rolled for surprise and was very unlucky indeed. The gazelles had a 3 in 4 change of stampeding as they ran through the camp. I rolled this, and the creatures were stampeding furiously. The gazelles stomped through the camp crushing Ithitus’ skull as he slept. Jassan was also hit but the damage was low. 

Pictured: a murdering bastard.

The pair of surviving characters stripped Ithitus of his gear and made a plan. Once dawn came Jassan used his newly acquired spell to heal himself. Then they took to the air atop their stolen hippogriff mounts, looking to escape the hills in favour of safer terrain. This they found only four miles West, on the shore of Lake Fie. 

Whilst they had arial advantage, the PCs surveyed the area to see if they could find anything interesting. There saw a ruined village only one hex north. So Jassan and Tiaathque decided to go check it out. 

They spent a few turns observing from a hundred yards up in the air. There were six ruined cottages with dilapidated roofs, surrounding one larger stone house. All the area was covered with thick ropey vines, pink in colour. 

Landing like lords of the sky, they came down into the centre of the ruin. They dismounted and discussed which they’d like to check out first. One of the roofs on a cottage groaned and lifted from the stonework. There was a hill giant within, he peered out and enquired what they were doing in his village. 

There was a tense bit of back and forth between the party and the giant, but the characters soon learned the giant was named Vonas. He had come here because many years ago his father had been a protector of the village in return for food. Vonas had turned up and found the area in ruin, and had been searching the houses to see if he could find out what happened. He’d checked all the cottages by lifting their roofs, but the larger stone house was brick with a flat roof, so he’d been unable to look inside. Vonas offered a reward if they went inside to look for clues. Jassan and Tiaathque agreed immediately. 

The vines were a little troubling. They covered every entranceway to the house. Jassan cut them, and they leaked a yellow fluid that began to immediately grow new vines. 

“How cool would it be if we could cast talk to plants and ask them to move aside.” My player fantasied. I concurred silently, and hoped they’d one day make it to such levels.

Using an open door check they managed to pull the vines from the stonework and lever them aside. The doorway was clear for entry, and no yellow fluid was released. Inside there was a dark foyer with two doors. The place was thoroughly ruined, and quite damaged. The door to the West was stuck, so Jassan tried the door to the East instead. 

This room was large, with a great collapsed fireplace. There were loungers completely ruined. There was evidence of a struggle, and old blood was splashed in an ark on the wall. There was another door to the North. Jassan opened this, but as he did he heard the whirling of a chain. An axe swung from the ceiling inside the room and nearly beheaded him, but his quick feet saved him from damage. 

Inside was a bedroom, dilapidated but not damaged. In the centre of the room was skeleton hanging from a noose. Tiaathque searched around the cupboards and found nothing. Jassan searched the hung skeleton, and found it it wearing a fine sovereign ring, which once pilfered caused the skeleton to crumble. There was also a note that was found reading, “I’m sorry father, I couldn’t face them.” 

The players were intrigued by this, who had killed these people and trapped them here? Jassan crawled onto his belly and looked under the bed. This is where another bit of bad luck was encountered. There was a skeleton of a women in foetal position under there, but she wasn’t alone, over a dozen giant rats scuttled out of the floor and crawled all over Jassan. 

For a few rounds the two explorers tried to battle the rats, but were soon becoming overpowered. Deciding to flee they made for the door, loosing initiative was deadly, Tiaathque dropped to the floor from his wounds. Jassan dragged him through the door and slammed it. Rats started squeezing under the door. Jassan carried his elven friend towards the door, but this impeded his speed, and the rats soon caught up with him. After another couple of rounds, unfortunately the cleric fell to the bites of many rats. 

An unfortunate end to some great characters. 

Pictured: The ender of many adventuring careers.

Onwards! The players rolled up new characters and started at the town of Renton on Fie. They’d received some hooks about the cult that occupied the temple ruin to the East. They set out to visit it, taking only two retainers with them out of a potential six. 

On the way they had a random encounter with three green skinned men with great talons who tried to rob them. They attempted to battle these monsters and this went horribly. Lelni was paralysed by a claw. They agreed to hand over all their gear. 

This was not going well. 

Searching for a few hours the party found some good heavy sticks they could use as clubs. Then they marched back to the hills where the new the cult was growing. They came upon a hippy commune of sorts. Nearly fifty beautiful women dressed in white togas welcomed them to the place, assuming they were going to join the cult. The PCs played along, and had a night of hedonistic pleasures with these women, who were as promiscuous as they were beautiful. It was agreed that the PCs would go up to the temple and receive initiation in the rights of Traz’grozan. Hippies and their dark gods, what can you do? 

The new PCs were led up to the temple, which was huge and columned. There, they met with some masked individuals who took their weapons and led them for their interview with Kindrel, a cleric of Traz’grozan. Led into a great chamber with a huge bottomless pit they saw strange bird headed beastmen counting copper coins. These beastmen guarded them whilst they were taken for interview, one by one.

Lelni went first, and quite quickly agreed to join the cult and give up his life to the order. He was led down into the dungeons by a bird headed beastman.

The next to go in was the normal human retainer Moran, but he bottled it at last minute. He was flung into the bottomless pit. 

Ari was next. He went into the interview room and had an intense conversation with the cleric. It turned out that his memories were to be removed, so that his flesh could be reconstituted. Ari was having none of that, so he attacked. 

That’s where we left the session. One PC manacled in a dungeon, the other engaged in combat with a dark cleric. 

Lets see what happens next time. 

A Satyr Class

In my current campaign the player characters were trapped in a strange pocket dimension. There have been several PC deaths, and with them being essentially imprisoned, it was making less and less sense to continually introduce wandering PCs into the party.

The party had, however, discovered a clan of Satyrs. So I whipped up this race as class. The satyr PC died the same session it was introduced, so this didn’t get much play testing. I thought I’d post it to the blog anyway.

I’ve tried to keep to the monster stats from AD&D as closely as possible.

DL Campaign Session 9

Riding high above a vapour wave pocket dimension, the PCs search for an exit, and find much more. One of the players used a satyr race as class character this session. I’ll post that sometime later this week.


Characters 

Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers.

Tiaathque – Elf 1 – a mysterious elven warrioress. 

Tych – Satyr 1 – the bravest young buck in the pocket dimension. 

Later joined by – 

Ithitus – Assassin 1 – A killer in the making. 


Due to the players of Vahan and Chiron being unavailable they decided their characters would rest with the Satyrs whilst the other PCs rode out on Hippogriffs. 

Jassan, Tiaathque, and their new satyr friend Tych, took the reigns of three hypogriffs and flew West. Keeping one hundred yards in the air, they followed one of the footpaths through the enchanted wood. Soon they came over a river bridge and were able to view the pagoda to the South. They came to a fork in the path and decided to go North, this was where they came upon a familiar sight; a three way crossroad with a skeleton hanging in a gibbet. 

The party landed and asked the skeleton some questions. The skeleton told them he would answer three questions for every day that passed in the ‘real world.’ This time he wasn’t limited to yes/no questions. Only one of his answers would be truthful, but he wouldn’t tell which one was true. 

Q1. Tiathque asked: What is the average flying speed of the unladen swallow?

A. 20.1 miles per hour! 

Q2. Jassan asked: Which way does water flow?

A. Up! 

The party then huddled together and tried to figure out what to ask next. There came a rustling in the foliage however, and eighty yards away a rider came blowing on a horn. He wore green garments, a stag skull atop his head, and carried a shield and a lance. He rushed towards them. 

The battle was fast. Tych attempted to climb a tree, failing miserably. Tiaathque loosed two arrows, the rider dashed aside and avoided them. But it was Jassan with his mighty sling who felled the elf. 

“Right where were we?”

Q3. Is the way home inside the mound of Herne the Hunter?

A. Yes!

The players had inferred that the first question about a swallows flying speeds was the one truthful answer, so now they assumed that the bronze doors leading home would not materialise there. They saddled up on their noble mounts and took to the air again, this time heading due West. 

They’d only travelled for twenty minutes when they saw on the path below the set of bronze doors. Stood astride of the doors were four more off these mounted elven hunters. 

“Look! They have taken the masters steeds!” One of them cried, pointing towards the party. 

“I’m your master now!” Said Jassan, and the party began to dive bomb the elves with their mounts razor sharp claws. 

Arrows were loosed, two elves died. Tych managed to swoop down within ten feet of the elves on the first round, but not close enough for contact. The elves failed their morale check and fled through the door. Beyond the portal was the dark catacomb Jassan recognised. Tych swooped in and his mount sunk its claws into a horse. With his spear the satyr felled another elf. 

The remaining elf fled down into the catacomb. The party charged in after him, loosing arrows but none found purchase. The rider opened the second set of doors, which opened into the fragrant bathhouse filled with comely elven maidens. The maidens screamed as the rider dashed through to the next door. 

The party reached the doorway leading to the bathhouse. Beyond this they saw the rider open another set of doors into the great hall of the King. 

“Close the doors!” The party screamed, and they did so. 

Jassan put his staff through the hand holds of the door to bar it. Someone tried to open it several times with a slam. Tych dashed towards the doors they had originally come through to attempt to find escape. It was getting very tense now. As Tych reached the other end of the room the doors burst inward. King Lazziar and his court stood there, furious. 

“You! What are you doing out of your cage? Prey.” Said the king to the Satyr. 

For Generations Tych’s kin had been hunted by this elf, and the blood rage rose up within with heart. He charged! 

At the other end of the corridor Jassan and Tiaathque opened the doors. Lo and behold! It was the entrance foyer lined with a hundred sets of armour and weapons. They were home free. 

Tych leapt at the King, drop kicking him with his hooves. The King chuckled like a dandy. Tych rolled back into one of the cemetery alcoves. Inside was the corpse of a beautiful elf Queen. 

“Get away from her!” Lazziar screamed hysterically. The king strode forth with his sword and cut the satyr in twain.

Jassa and Tiaathque had got back into the saddle and were charging towards the exit. The doors slammed behind them. They took a second to grab a set of chainmail and a helmet. Then the doors blew in behind them and the King stood there in his emerald finery, splashed with the blood of his hunt. 

“Dismount immediately!” He commanded. 

“Hell no.” The party dashed towards the entrance, their mounts claws pushing the doors open, and they saw before them the fields of the vale. The sky was blue, not a hideous pink. They were outside the emerald citadel. They took to the sky, but heard the Elf King mutter an incantation, and looking over their shoulder they saw he was flying after them! 

An hour of evasive manoeuvres allowed the party to escape him and make way to the local village of Ronton on Fie. Their arrival caused a commotion amongst the population, having a bunch of adventurers turn up on Hippogriffs was quite unordinary. Jassan unloaded the captured crowns of the dead Elf Kings and began bartering with them.  

The party took a few days rest here. Selling the crowns, and burying much of their treasure in a nearby wood. In total the five crowns were worth 3,000 gp. All this money attracted an assassin named Ithitus to join the party. 

art by LadyofHats

All was not well however, because during the night there had been a raid by twelve mounted elves on the town. Thirteen peasant guardsmen had been slain. The town wanted to host a meeting, clearly the attacks had something to do with the party stealing from the elves. 

This was a great time to scarper, and the party did exactly that, mounting their hippogriffs and making East. 

Long ago they had received a quest to investigate the strange cult growing at the old elven temple of Omirion. This didn’t take long to find from the air. They saw the ancient temple atop a hill and a small village at the base of the hills. 

Flying down to this village they were approached by many white toga wearing peasants. This place had a strange hippy feel to it, the women tried to coo and lure the character into taking off their armour and joining them for ‘pleasure untethered.’ The party refused. This caused a sort of hue and cry from the toga clad cultists. The party took off on their mounts into the hills. As they did so, they saw strange men with large hooked heads emerge form the huts. 

Whilst traversing the air high above the hills they saw a fort. 

Camping that night Jassan was awoken by a terrible figure looming over him. It was Niarchos, the retainer who had taken Gunther’s sword over twenty days ago. He stood, white as a sheet, his gurning mouth chocked with black blood. He raised a finger and pointed at Jassan. 

What will happen next time? 


Judges note: Quite a session really, the players managed to escape with quite a bit of treasure. Unfortunately some PCs are still inside the emerald citadel, we will see if they wish to try and escape via PbP. 

This session marks the campaigns first level up, Jassan is now a level 2 cleric. The part also have three very well behaved hippogriffs, which could change the nature of the game significantly. 

Maliks player is still engaged in PbP and is having quite an adventure on his own, this will be posted at some point in the future, perhaps when it reaches a conclusion. 

I’ll post the satyr class later this week. I offered this to a player because it seemed a little off to keep having the party running into wandering PCs in what is effectively a prison. I made this using the ACKS players companion with a bit of janking. I tried to keep it as close to the AD&D monster stat as I could. 

Posted at Dragonsfoot

DL Campaign Session 8

In this session we continue following the party in the Halls of the Emerald Citadel. 


Characters 

Chiron – Magic-user 1 – Come to expand his knowledge. 

Jassan Al` Nadir – Cleric 1 – A Dervish gentleman posing as a trader, known for dark whispers.

Vahan – Fighter 1 – Deep voiced and broad shouldered. 

Maximus – Paladin 1 – Oath, “I dedicate myself and my actions to Phoebus. No matter the cost, I will fight for a world guided by law that is free of corruption.”

Tiaathque – Elf 1 – a mysterious elven warrioress. 

Retainers 

Aegon – man at arms – Vahans squire.


Last time we left on a cliffhanger. The PCs were running away from a hall filled with over thirty elves, led by a King who could fly. 

The party were rushing away from the hall, back into the portal room, they sought to reach the second set of double doors, knowing that beyond them another room would ‘spawn.’ 

The King had the initiative, however, he flew over their heads and landed before the doors. 

“Another hunt, how marvellous.” He said. Then, whilst making a gesture, he uttered a word in elven. The double doors behind him slammed open revealing a vast forest. The trees of this forest were unlike any the party had ever seen. Tall as red woods, white as snow, they gave off faint luminosity. 

“In you go,” said the King, “into the woods for our hunt. Oh I do like this game.” 

Vahan first pleaded with the king that they meant him no harm, but it seemed their fate was already decided. Giving each other a knowing look, the party broke towards one of the portals hanging in the air. The party proved lithe, dashing forwards through a portal they deemed the safest; a brick corridor draped with webbing. 

As they did so, the King called for them to be apprehended, and several elves cast sleep spells. Vahan led the party into the dark chamber, but then, his eyes became leaden. He turned to see his comrades fall the the ground, snoring. Then he himself slumped into slumber. 

Things looked dire. Terrible dreams took them. 

Vahan awoke first, a rock slamming into his temple. He was laying on some grass, the sky above him was pink, and hanging there, like a grizzly marionette, was a skeleton in a gibbet. 

“You’re awake then.” Said the skeleton. 

Vahan tossed around and saw his comrades about him, sound asleep. He was in the woodland he’d seen beyond the doorway.  Standing twenty yards distant was a elven warrioress. She waved. The gibbet was hanging at at three pathed crossroad. 

Vahan woke his friends with a few good slaps. The elf introduced herself as Tiaathque, which was quite the tongue twister. This woman had been exploring the emerald citadel with a party, but had been captured and driven into this wood. For two days she’d been wandering. She was welcomed into the party with open arms. 

“Ask me queries three, and I’ll give an answer to ye, but whether they be wrong or right, I shan’t tell thee. Teehee.” Said the skeleton in the cage. It agreed to answer three questions, answering with a yes or no. 

Question 1 was asked by Tiaathque: “Is there a way out?”

Answer: “No!”

Question 2 was asked accidentally by Tiaathque, for she was really aiming her question towards her comrades: ”So do you happen to have a locksmith with you?”

Answer: Yes! 

Question 3 was decided by the party after careful whispered deliberation: “Does this lead to the exit?” They pointed to the Eastern path. 

Answer: Hmm, I can’t give a yes or no, for no path leads to the door forever. 

A maybe then! The party picked the eastern path and walked onwards. 

Hours passed, but the light never seemed to dim. There was a small pink sun in the sky that never moved. The paths were very well kept with small hedging at the sides. The trees were very tall and blocked line of sight for more than a few yards. 

Eventually, they came upon a black bear sat in the path. It was holding two fruits and comparing them. 

“Hello there?” said Vahan. The bear reacted calmly and shrugged at the party. They tried to talk to it, but it pointed at its bear mouth and shrugged. It rolled one of the fruits to them and Tiaathque devoured it, delicious. The bear pointed to the high canopy, the trees were littered with the fruits. 

Finally the bear drew a swirling line and a fish in the dirt, and pointed south. They party interpreted this to mean a river was that way. They thanked the bear and moved through the woodland, taking their first steps off the path. The bear walked away, strangely human in its manner. 

For eight hours they marched through the woods. They were beginning to get tired. Eventually they came upon this river. It was very fast flowing. On its bank was a finely built log cabin. The cabin had a jetty into the water which carried a rack of canoes and harpoons. 

Maximus ran up to the log cabin and peered through one of the windows. Inside there were twelve bunk beds, many arrows, bows and spears on a rack. There was also a chest. At the mention of a chest Vahan rushed through the front door and claimed it. It felt very empty though. 

The party started thoroughly ransacking the place whilst Maximus kept lookout on the jetty deck. He spotted a massive wolf on the other side of the river. It was matted with gore and filth and stood nearly as tall as a man on all fours. The creature gurned at him and began crossing the river! 

“Prepare for assault!” The party closed the cabin door and took up positions at the window with the short bows. They loosed many arrows, Tiaathque seeming the expert amongst them. 

The beast beached itself and leap onto the window, riddled with arrows. Vahan and Tiaathque fired two final arrows and felled the creature, just in time. As it fell back out of the window, there was a puff of smoke. Carefully peering out the party saw that the wolf had turned into a dead man! He wore chainmail and carried a sword. This they swiped. 

After the battle the party smashed open the chest and found a blue vial. After testing the liquid on a pinky finger they found it caused invisibility. 

The party decided to stay in the lodge for some sleep. In the morning they saw in the woodland a set of bronze doors. They ran towards them as fast as they could, but not quickly enough, for as they were within twenty yards the doors vanished. 

After all this excitement a little river trip was in order. The Canoes were readied and the party set off down the river.  The flow was very fast and within four hours they’d reached a large lake. To the north were hills where there were no trees. Atop the highest hill was an emerald green pagoda. 

The canoes were beached and the party walked up the steep hills, soon finding a path. This path led to a set of steep steps straight towards the pagoda. 

The pagoda was four levels high, its corners were decorated with elf gargoyles. There were no windows, but the top level was open aired with a roof. A courtyard was before the entrance with a large censer burning pine resin. 

The party took up a marching order and approached the entrance. Inside there was a withered elf, pure wight and wearing only a sash, he sat in lotus position. The interior was painted green except for a large gold foiled snake across the floor. There were stairs in the north. 

The party carefully crossed towards the stairs. The snake animated and popped out of the floor! A bitter fight ensued, lasting all of twenty seconds. The party surrounded the giant gold serpent and slew it. Unfortunately the paladin Maximus was struck in the breast by the snakes fang. His mouth foamed for a few short breaths before he fell dead. 

The withered elf smiled, creaking like wood, then pointed upwards.

The party continued up the stairs, leaving the fallen behind. The next room was pitch black. Tiaathque noticed four faint heat signatures on the walls. A torch was lit, and they saw that the room was lacquered with black paint. Where the heat signatures had been there were four vague humanoid silhouettes painted on the walls.    

The party entered the room, and as they did they noticed the marks on the wall leap down. Ninja! The dark robbed assailants rushed on them from the shadows. Vahan and Aegon charged two of them, but Tiaathque was surprised by two ninja swinging daggers. She managed to parry and deflect their blows. The fight was brief, the party victorious. When the ninja were struck down they turned into paper, or logs. Once the ninja were defeated the room suddenly changed colour from black to green. 

Onward! They proceeded up the stairs to the third room. The floor of this room contained a impossibly deep pool. Sticking up from the water were tiny poles many feet apart. The Shaolin dexterity test! Tiaathque took off all her armour and gear and leapt across the poles like a lioness. Afterwards there was some messing around with a spear head and the tying off of ropes. The party had fastened a loose guid line to help them cross. After a few near misses, everyone had crossed the pool. 

The final level of the pagoda awaited! They went up and found an pillared stable open to the air. In the centre of the room were four fine hippogriffs. They wore barding and saddles and seemed very amicable. There was also a rack of lances and a chest. The chest was opened and it contained emerald green chainmail with an elven rune of protection on it. There were also a set of elven cloak and boots and five gems. 

They divvied up the treasure. Vahan taking the cloak and boots, and Tiaathque taking the green chainmail. Then it was time to make use of these feathered mounts. It was a struggle to get one of the beasts to take two riders, but this was eventually managed without rebuttal from the creatures savage claws. 

The party took off from the pagoda and swooped down over the waters of the lake in a V formation. Below the waters they could see many mermen. 

“What the hell is this place?” 

With great mobility they took to the sky and began to survey the area. The woods seemed endless. Following the river they soon found a bridge which joined a path. They followed the path towards a grove. 

Satyrs clearly lived int he grove, and once they saw the party approach they began to shriek and hide. The party landed and hailed the tribe, who were about thirty in number. The tribe seemed deathly afraid of them, referring to them as hunters, and specifically referring the the elf Tiaathque as ‘Herne the Hunter.’

“You wear the mail of Herne, please show mercy on the children!” Their chief said in sylvan. 

The party got some useful information from these folks, they discovered that there was no time here, just perpetual pink light. The exit door moved frequently they learned, but the satyr referred to it as the door of hades and kept away from it. The elves apparently hunted mercilessly here, riding these hippogriffs. There was a forbidden area of statues that the satyrs avoided at all costs. 

With their new mounts and provisions, what will they do next? Will they ever escape the hunting ground of King Lazziar, and what will he make of them stealing his prized stallions? 

Lets see next time. 

Also posted at Dragonsfoot.