The group made their way back to the warren to try their hand on the kobolds again. The anklebiters had 2 days to prepare and had some traps in place for the group, as well as some new tactics not in my original planning. The party hit the 1st batch which is the pitched fight as I stripped some K'Morat from further in the lair and repurposed them for this.
As for the rest - the K'Morat will be minimizing their weaknesses and play to their strengths. We tried a swarming attempt on the group with a dozen racing in and a sleep spell - but caltrops on bare feet slowed them down and allowed the group 1 round reprieve; enough time to waken their companions and get their own sleep spell off in turn.
It is far from over for the warren. In fact - it's just beginning.
Write up follows:
With Spunifer gone, we thought perhaps we cut off an access that we might need at a later date, but for now we were going to meet with one of the two alchemist’s, Thebidus the dwarf, who was happy to speak with us. He looked over Barb, noted her cough, and listened to her complaints about it. Wanted to know if she wanted her cough to sound higher? Like a duck’s call? Perhaps one where butterflies spew out instead of spittle? No…just something to remove the sickness if at all possible.
Sure, sure, back at Sorton we have that brewing often I suppose. Out here? I have an older potion, perhaps 2 and a half years old – I’m sure it works. Want to try it? Um…no. Not if I don’t have to. Can you brew me one? A fresh one?
Thebidus nodded and said we have most of the ingredients except for the heart of a sentient being.
A heart.
Without it, the potion won’t truly work.
We thanked Thebidus and informed him we’d come back around to him if our plans didn’t work. After the dwarf left Barb was adamant she wasn’t going to drink some questionable potion of dubious strength some 2 years after it’s supposedly still viable. We circled back to Spunifer and came to the conclusion that she owes her homage to her clan – which currently is the Randari Rangers and Hornes is the leader. If Hornes tells her to do something – such as remove Barb’s sickness, she’ll be bound and forced to do so.
But we needed another item to sway Hornes and we thought on the antlers we grabbed from the K’Morat lair. The decision was to mount the antlers to a helm for Hornes and at first tell him they were from a bear, but antlers don’t look like horns. Then maybe an older bear? After the horns split into antlers? No – just mount them and maneuver the conversation into something that would make him fill in the blanks.
We went off to the smithy where we met with Daversi, the dwarven smith, and after verifying she had other helm’s Hornes had worn, had her mount the antlers to another small helm and we’d come back in about an hour to present them to the difficult half-orc. We did learn a bit that Hornes has become more strange and eccentric the longer he and his Rangers have been working here for House Illytch. Daversi was going to be present when we brought him the helm.
Darius then went off to the wall where he met with Umbannon, the half-elven giant slayer that our fighter had words with earlier. He apologized for his words and Umbannon was surprised at the sincerity of Darius, and offered his own apology for his angry tone as well. There was some handshaking and a better understanding.
By 4:15 or so, Daversi had come back to the party with the antler mounted helm and the group then went off to see Hornes and the rest of the rangers. The conversation started out hostile towards us and going above his back to talk to Spunifer but it was derailed rapidly by the helm. We assured Horned that the antlers had come from a magical animal and were still faintly imbued with an arcanic aura. Spunifer verified this and Hornes asked, “A magical creature? Like…a Giant Eagle?”
The group struggled to hold in their laughter but Connal flat out said, “Magical antlers? Why NOT a giant eagle?!?!”
Hornes then put on the new helm, giving the older one to the half-ogre Wolfskar (who was talking about leaving our group and joining the rangers), pressed it on tight, and then charged the wall of the barracks to test it out. We complimented him on his hit and even though the helm was wedged in place, Darius gave the half-orc thumbs up for the “power line” he had on his forehead.
Hornes sent Spunifer to the third barracks to heal Barb.
Barb was lying there feeling miserable, two of the Aids-de-camp hanging with her for the time being, when the orcish shaman came in and strode up to the reclining barbarian. The two women traded snipes at one another, Spunifer disliking Barb for her lack of loyalty, calling her an honorless bitch for abandoning Hornes and the Rangers. When Barb tossed it back that she should do her job and just heal her already, Spunifer shrugged and said she was weary and out of blessings today; she’ll have to wait till the morning. Barb’s mocking (and coughing) laughter followed her out of the barracks as she strode away.
Hornes was surprised that Spunifer was out of spells, but the druid shot back that she had cast numerous “rain repelling” spells during today’s travel on Hornes. He shrugged and thanked her, letting the group know that Spunifer would heal Barb of her sickness in the morning.
A few of us them went to the Reeve Donna Duncarian and asked her to allow us to look over the stores. We geared up on a few things we had used during our time in the lair, and gave the Reeve a listing of what we’d like on the next caravan (arriving on the 17th): poultices to draw out dirty sicknesses, extra baladranas, extra blankets, 20# of caltrops (10 bags), fizzstone if available (most likely not, but we can hope), fishing line, and a fishing net.
Negan went to the carpenters where he bartered for a ¾ auger and some wood chisels, giving up a couple K’Morat atlatl’s in the process. He was also allowed to gather up a 5# bag of sawdust which he gave to Darius for slinging. Finally, he went off to Daversi and had her sharpen the auger as well as giving her a pile of iron ore, hoping to get some caltrops from her (come back on the 15th, she’ll have 4#’s for us then). After this, the group turned in for the night and we got some sleep.
We awoke early, prayed, gathered supplies, and after verifying that Spunifer did indeed remove disease on Barb (she did, 5 in the AM), we left Base Camp by 7 AM into another damned rainy day and headed our way off to the mountain lake on the opposite and past the ridge of Furtham’s Peak, coming around to the stone house.
Seeing nothing new here, we continued on, a more invigorated Barb leading the way as we travelled off south and west over the next ridge lines and valleys until a bit after 12:30, we could see the meadow grasses at the floor of the valley before us. As we went to travel on, we were stopped by orcish voices who talked to Barb, demanding we stop and pay tribute before moving on. One by one, we all took out something small yet of some worth, looking around and still seeing none of the orcs that surrounded us.
Once accepted, we were told to move on and Barb let us know it was a Randari Warband – most likely 14 or so strong – something we didn’t want to risk facing – especially since they had gotten the drop on us.
We decided we wanted to set up a camp now, not near the K’Morat lair and nowhere near the Frost Giant. So we searched all up and down the northern ridge some 3,000 feet up or so until we came upon a natural cave obscured by the dense trees growing around. It was 7’ tall, 20’ deep, perhaps 13’ wide on the inside. An older animal den, hadn’t been used in weeks or so. The group cleaned it out, gathered wet wood and stacked it crossways inside so it would dry some and then took one of the tents and tacked it over the entrance to further obscure it, keep animals out, and keep the rain from coming in.
From here we went down into the valley and were at the K’Morat warren lair by 3ish. Nothing new. The root ball had been pruned a bunch, leaving no easy tie points for Darius who instead looped the rope up and over the root ball before letting the free end slither down the hole.
The party went in one by one, until the last person down (Negan) was climbing his way in as he noticed the pounding rain was letting up very fast. Unsure if it meant anything, he skidded to the floor and let us know about the rain ending. Shrugging for now, we drew up and made our way down the passage. The light spell was once more placed on Centius’ shield, but then with Barb in front (along with Darius this time), the half-orc and zombie swapped shields and we made our way with care to the 1st 4 way split.
Wooden rakes had been placed on the floor here, tines up, as if someone would run in and step on a rake, getting a face full of pole for his return. Hmm. We tried to pull one back and it had a wire on it. So we hooked it with the grapple and pulled hard, getting into a yanking contest with a K’Morat. Javelins were tossed but we won and managed to get a rake and 30’ of taut wire. Negan used the chisel to snap off a 4’ piece of it and then tied it to two spikes for an impromptu garrote. As for the K’Morat down that way, Darius took out a prepared Molotov, lit it, and let it fly.
It soared perfectly down, hit one K’Morat on the shield and splattered oil all over him and some on the guy next to him. The group ran weapons out. A bag of sawdust followed and fire blossomed all over the place. One K’Morat ran, and Barb gave chase while Connal pinned a K’Morat to the wall with the spear we had taken from the Temple of Loki. Barb was sure the K’Morat ran down the slope and towards the midden but the area was greasier than we remembered and the decision was to back up and go back to the 4 way split.
We crossed to the area where the deadfall had been, now nothing there but a concave hole in the ceiling. But when we looked down the passage to the end, we saw two of the tables now facing the other way – a 7” gap between them, and some junk on the floor in front of the tables. Negan and Connal swapped with Darius and Barb – the two fighters going to the back of the party and watching down the long passages for the sure to be coming K’Morat.
And they were down there, heads poking out and watching us. Barb kept up a litany of what was down there and soon to be coming while Negan and Connal were discussing slamming the tables (probably braced), dragging them back, or something else. It was at that moment that the K’Morat ran down the passage, hurling javelins from 20’ back, picking at Barb and Darius. Darius throated one of the K’Morat with a hunk of steel and then brained another. But there had to be 11 of them in hall and only two guarding the passage.
But from behind the tables and around the corner, a candle dumped over and fire raced along the oil prepared ground, hitting the bundle which exploded with rocks, grit, and the caltrops we had dropped here earlier. Connal used a dead kobold as cover and rolled barely out of the way while Negan took a face full and staggered back. The explosion was the sign for the K’Morat to charge closer. Luckily Darius used what few caltrops we had left to pepper the group, slowing them up.
Avulstein was preparing a spell to shoot around the corner but his ears picked up another spell being cast by a K’Morat voice – and the language of magic let him know it was a sleep spell! Fired at us.
Connal and Negan dropped immediately, followed by Avulstein and we had a choice – face the kobolds or awaken our friends. Awaken our friends came first. Darius left his post and slung a rock at Negan, hurting the half-ogre who coughed awake, and then Barb took stabs at her back as she prodded, kicked, and abused the wolverine until Avulstein drew awake. From the hallway, the caltrops had slowed down the charging K’Morat so only 4 had made the corner – one of which Centius split in twain with his axe.
As they were closing in, Avulstein yelled out his own spell and dropped every damned kobold in the hall to sleep. In return, the voice behind the tables called out a summoning spell, and some undead monster appeared, slashing at the party and trying to drop them. Waking Connal at long last, we tore into the summoned monster and it was dropped swiftly. At this point we made the call to coup de grace the kobolds in the hall and gather what ears we could – fully expecting to continue on into the warren and take on the next knot of K’Morat scum.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Friday, October 20, 2017
Meet 14, Adv B4, 10/15/17 - Youth Group
Before getting to the less interesting lower 5 levels of the ziggurat, the two big showdown fights are with wight in Queen Zenobia’s tomb, and the Darius/Demetrius fight with the Cyndician/Zargonite supporters. I have had people wipe on the wight fight, I have also had no one find the tomb, and I’ve have people do well on it.
For this fight, the dice were so in the youth’s favor that everything they did worked out for them and they managed to flee with the scepter/rod. Trust me, I TRIED to hit them with the wight, but at no point were they in any danger from Queen Zenobia's terrible rolls.
Write up follows:
We decided that we’d go up the northern passage, assuming that it was Queen Zenobia’s tomb we’d be going to since her false tomb was also on the northern end of the chamber. However, before going down, Vulkan was feeling a bit unsure and wanted us to pause while he studied the Web spell in his book. Having recently become more confident in his skills, he felt he could add a 2nd level spell to his repertoire and if things were not going to go well for us, it’d be nice to have more firepower at our fingertips.
So we waited an hour, and during that time, Mark and Delsin heard goblinoid voices getting closer from the other side of the door. Unsure of what was being said; they instead moved themselves in front of the door and quietly braced it with their backs, Safir joining the two men. It was good that they did so because the goblinoids were trying to push on the door and realizing it was lock/stuck/held, bitched and moaned a bit before giving up and heading back the way they came. Delsin didn’t trust the situation and had everyone wait a few moments when they felt the door tested AGAIN.
It seemed the goblinoids left one of their members behind to try and trick anyone on the inside but since the party hadn’t moved or changed anything, the last one got up and left, heading back down the irregular sized passage where we caught it calling out to the others and then all the voices faded.
No other issues occurred and by 1:30 or so, the group of four made their way to the northern secret passage. The floor was thick with dust and spider webs hung low in curtains. We had Safir go first, the scout making small clouds with each step but he went the 20 paces to the corner, looked around and headed back. Passage turned to the left, went another 20 plus paces and ended at a door on the left.
Delsin took point and the party travelled along until arriving at the heavy portal. There was a clay seal on the door covered in old Cyndician script. Mark studied his book of Gorm and the script and let us know it was seals of protection for the dead within – and that it shouldn’t be disturbed.
So we took hammer to clay and beat the seal apart, chunks of thick clay falling to the floor in dried flakey clumps. As they broke the seal, there was a brief flash of a sickly olive green light from the jamb…and then nothing.
Hand on the handle, Delsin put his weight to the door and pushed in and to the right.
It was a fairly decent sized chamber with a 7’x3’x3’ stone box in the center of the room with a flat slab cover upon it. We wanted to check it out, but Vulkan was uncomfortable and Mark wanted the group to be on alert. Safir stood by the door, bow out and arrow loaded, Vulkan right next to him nervously twisting his fingers. Delsin had Heatstroke out and Mark kept the Mace of Gorm in his grip as he braced his hands under the slab cover and pushed.
The lid popped up and slid a good 2 feet across the top of the sarcophagus, sitting upright was the dried out and very dead form of Queen Zenobia. Her crown was twisted in place by her matter hair and baleful greenish glow was coming from her eyes and blackened snarling slack jawed mouth. She lunged to grab Mark but Safir’s arrow shot out – striking her in the shoulder and then bouncing harmlessly away.
Mark and Delsin rocked back as Vulkan shouted out his arcanic words and strands of cloying sticking webs blew from his fingertips and fell around the undead form of Queen Zenobia.
Who literally dodged to the side and tore the webs to shreds as they passed around her.
Delsin slammed his sword forward, hitting her in the stomach, but even Heatstroke’s enchanted edge couldn’t penetrate her skin; instead running along her midsection and raising a black torn gash in her side which did nothing to deter her flailing arms. Mark howled for Gorm to help turn this evil beast but even as his holy symbol began to flare blue and white, Queen Zenobia ducked under the influence and her eyes burst green light – breaking the turning glow before it even hit her.
She swept out wildly, getting to her knees and then standing in the coffin, snarling and ripping at the two front line guys, raising sparks on their shield but not actually hitting anyone. Her off hand held a scepter of some weight which she slammed down like a cudgel, trying to beat Delsin in the head with it.
Safir fired again, and another arrow hit the queen but blunted and broke upon contact. Vulkan meanwhile was ripping out Auriga’s copy of his spellbook, flipping the pages and yelling to “watch out! Watch out!” Finding the page he wanted, he read the spell right from the book, the page turning to fire and then ash – and fired a 2nd Web right at the Queen. This time she was unable to deflect it and it surrounded her, trapping her under the layers of webbing and preventing her from hitting the party.
“Get the scepter! Get it!” Vulkan tossed a pair of knives at Mark and Delsin who stood as close to the furious queen and slashed at the webbing over and around her scepter. The edges of the knives quickly grew duller but the strands slashed apart and eventually her arm with the scepter was free. She tried to smash Mark with it and he danced back. Safir stood right over the queen and fired and arrow into her face under the web – and it broke on her forehead.
Vulkan was holding her arm, feeling cold as he tried to grip the arm in place, while Mark twisted and pulled the scepter about, breaking her grasp and retreating with the prize. Vulkan backed up, just missing getting swiped by the queens flailing clawlike hand. The web was being torn apart from the ground as we made to run from the room. Just outside the door, Vulkan again ripped through the spellbook until he found another spell he wanted, shouting for the party to “go go go”.
Once everyone was outside the chamber, the sound of the webbing snapping apart inside and the Queen howling and screaming, Vulkan finished reading the page from the book and the paper turned to fire and the spell shot off – surrounding the door and frame in tight green and yellow runes and holding it in place – preventing it from being opened for some time.
We jogged back to the main chamber where we shut the secret passage to Queen Zenobia’ s chamber and then dragged the false sarcophagus in front of the door to further confound it from being opened and the undead from getting out to attack us.
The scepter was black, flanged, lightly jeweled and according to Vulkan, radiated magic. He had seen things like this before and suspected it would hold spells, a few of them, for the mage – beyond what he normally was able to memorize in a given day.
We then wanted to go to King Alexander’s chamber – this time more away of what we were going to find and hopefully be done in there before the Queen escaped the held chamber and came out to find us.
The passage was similar to the other side, from the dust to the webs to the door and also the clay seals. We took hammer to seals and during the beating of them, we didn’t see a flash of green – but instead a brief whining high pitched cry. Not wanting to be caught off guard and using the whine as a warning, we took out a few candled, heated up the wax and molded it until it could fit in our ears, deadening our hearing for now.
We drew weapons and as one, opened the door and peered in. Room was similar to Queen Zenobia’s, except this time there was a baleful spirit hovering over the King’s sarcophagus, red tears for eyes and a ragged hole for a mouth. It merely stared at us. No one wanted to walk in. So we talked to it. Explained who we were, what we were doing, talking about Cyndicia and how it had fallen and how Zargon is polluting it all. We needed the ancient king’s sword to help defeat the beast and wanted the spirit to know that King Alexander would feel the same way.
Whether it was the pleading, the connection to King Alexander, or who knows what – but the spirit did come over to the door and we showed it the Scepter of Zenobia with the markings of Usimagarius, and the Mace of Gorm with the Gormian runes. All that was missing was the Sword of King Alexander and we’d have one of each weapon from the ancient Cyndician gods and be able to take the fight to Zargon himself.
The spirit went back to the sarcophagus, disappeared within, and came out with King Alexander’s sword. Delsin was instructed to remove Heatstroke – and the two weapons swapped places. He now held the wide bladed 4’ long rune encrusted sword which read on one side: Sword of Delsin, and the other: Knight of Cyndicia. Taking it reverently, he also had his king’s guard platemail swapped out for the enchanted platemail that King Alexander had been buried in.
We left the room humbled and decided to head our way down to the 5th level and hole up again in the secret room with the chest, rest, eat, study, pray, and heal our wounds. We made our way out of the tombs, through the rocks until we arrived at the section where we had to crawl underneath the standing stone. Once through we kicked the rock repeatedly until it finally settled down in place – hopefully sealing the tombs and possible escape of the undead creature Queen Zenobia turned out to be.
We then went to leave, making our way through the swinging pendulum axe blade traps, until we arrived back at the secret door which we lifted up and…came face to face with 4 rock baboons. Mark stepped forward confidently, talking to the baboons, hooting and pantomiming with them, even peeing when they did – the same as he had done days ago when we first faced them. They were pleased to remember Mark and we swapped food, and they wanted to explore the new now open room. So we let them, and made our way down the ladder in the middle of the hall to the 5th level.
We emerged back into Darius’ chamber and then went to the north west corner where we opened the secret chamber, shuffled in, and shut it behind us. From here we rested and awoke the next day feeling much better. Spells were studied and prayed for and then we emerged, heading our way through the bedroom south to the next door.
It was here that we saw the kitchen and dining room – the two big snakes that had been in here were not seen – but we ran across the chamber to the next room south and opened the door there. Two metal statues, low divans and a door on the east. Oh yeah, they remembered this. We dragged Vulkan across the room who was convinced that this time he had a good idea on how to take care of the statues, ignoring his pleas as we hit the eastern corridor and shut the door behind us.
We passed the remains of the gargoyle, made our way to the large carpeted office with the desk, and decided to look the room over again. We looked in the drawers and found some silver coins, a handful or topaz gems, and a potion in a drawer where the label had fallen off but the drawer had two labels in it: Potion of Healing and Potion of Death.
What? How did we know what this was?
The decision was made to find one of the many mice in the tomb and feed it a few drops of the potion. Which we did, and the mouse died. Ok – potion of death! Got it!
From here we left the office north, back to the hallway where the pit trap had been identified, and decided to head back to the waystation of Gorm on the west side of this floor to ask the priests there if they knew of where Demetrius might be so we could take care of him.
The walk was uneventful and in no time we passed through the wards and had some words on where to go. The east side of the floor past the great room, Demetrius could be found surrounded by the Cyndician followers of Zargon. So that was where we were going to go.
For this fight, the dice were so in the youth’s favor that everything they did worked out for them and they managed to flee with the scepter/rod. Trust me, I TRIED to hit them with the wight, but at no point were they in any danger from Queen Zenobia's terrible rolls.
Write up follows:
We decided that we’d go up the northern passage, assuming that it was Queen Zenobia’s tomb we’d be going to since her false tomb was also on the northern end of the chamber. However, before going down, Vulkan was feeling a bit unsure and wanted us to pause while he studied the Web spell in his book. Having recently become more confident in his skills, he felt he could add a 2nd level spell to his repertoire and if things were not going to go well for us, it’d be nice to have more firepower at our fingertips.
So we waited an hour, and during that time, Mark and Delsin heard goblinoid voices getting closer from the other side of the door. Unsure of what was being said; they instead moved themselves in front of the door and quietly braced it with their backs, Safir joining the two men. It was good that they did so because the goblinoids were trying to push on the door and realizing it was lock/stuck/held, bitched and moaned a bit before giving up and heading back the way they came. Delsin didn’t trust the situation and had everyone wait a few moments when they felt the door tested AGAIN.
It seemed the goblinoids left one of their members behind to try and trick anyone on the inside but since the party hadn’t moved or changed anything, the last one got up and left, heading back down the irregular sized passage where we caught it calling out to the others and then all the voices faded.
No other issues occurred and by 1:30 or so, the group of four made their way to the northern secret passage. The floor was thick with dust and spider webs hung low in curtains. We had Safir go first, the scout making small clouds with each step but he went the 20 paces to the corner, looked around and headed back. Passage turned to the left, went another 20 plus paces and ended at a door on the left.
Delsin took point and the party travelled along until arriving at the heavy portal. There was a clay seal on the door covered in old Cyndician script. Mark studied his book of Gorm and the script and let us know it was seals of protection for the dead within – and that it shouldn’t be disturbed.
So we took hammer to clay and beat the seal apart, chunks of thick clay falling to the floor in dried flakey clumps. As they broke the seal, there was a brief flash of a sickly olive green light from the jamb…and then nothing.
Hand on the handle, Delsin put his weight to the door and pushed in and to the right.
It was a fairly decent sized chamber with a 7’x3’x3’ stone box in the center of the room with a flat slab cover upon it. We wanted to check it out, but Vulkan was uncomfortable and Mark wanted the group to be on alert. Safir stood by the door, bow out and arrow loaded, Vulkan right next to him nervously twisting his fingers. Delsin had Heatstroke out and Mark kept the Mace of Gorm in his grip as he braced his hands under the slab cover and pushed.
The lid popped up and slid a good 2 feet across the top of the sarcophagus, sitting upright was the dried out and very dead form of Queen Zenobia. Her crown was twisted in place by her matter hair and baleful greenish glow was coming from her eyes and blackened snarling slack jawed mouth. She lunged to grab Mark but Safir’s arrow shot out – striking her in the shoulder and then bouncing harmlessly away.
Mark and Delsin rocked back as Vulkan shouted out his arcanic words and strands of cloying sticking webs blew from his fingertips and fell around the undead form of Queen Zenobia.
Who literally dodged to the side and tore the webs to shreds as they passed around her.
Delsin slammed his sword forward, hitting her in the stomach, but even Heatstroke’s enchanted edge couldn’t penetrate her skin; instead running along her midsection and raising a black torn gash in her side which did nothing to deter her flailing arms. Mark howled for Gorm to help turn this evil beast but even as his holy symbol began to flare blue and white, Queen Zenobia ducked under the influence and her eyes burst green light – breaking the turning glow before it even hit her.
She swept out wildly, getting to her knees and then standing in the coffin, snarling and ripping at the two front line guys, raising sparks on their shield but not actually hitting anyone. Her off hand held a scepter of some weight which she slammed down like a cudgel, trying to beat Delsin in the head with it.
Safir fired again, and another arrow hit the queen but blunted and broke upon contact. Vulkan meanwhile was ripping out Auriga’s copy of his spellbook, flipping the pages and yelling to “watch out! Watch out!” Finding the page he wanted, he read the spell right from the book, the page turning to fire and then ash – and fired a 2nd Web right at the Queen. This time she was unable to deflect it and it surrounded her, trapping her under the layers of webbing and preventing her from hitting the party.
“Get the scepter! Get it!” Vulkan tossed a pair of knives at Mark and Delsin who stood as close to the furious queen and slashed at the webbing over and around her scepter. The edges of the knives quickly grew duller but the strands slashed apart and eventually her arm with the scepter was free. She tried to smash Mark with it and he danced back. Safir stood right over the queen and fired and arrow into her face under the web – and it broke on her forehead.
Vulkan was holding her arm, feeling cold as he tried to grip the arm in place, while Mark twisted and pulled the scepter about, breaking her grasp and retreating with the prize. Vulkan backed up, just missing getting swiped by the queens flailing clawlike hand. The web was being torn apart from the ground as we made to run from the room. Just outside the door, Vulkan again ripped through the spellbook until he found another spell he wanted, shouting for the party to “go go go”.
Once everyone was outside the chamber, the sound of the webbing snapping apart inside and the Queen howling and screaming, Vulkan finished reading the page from the book and the paper turned to fire and the spell shot off – surrounding the door and frame in tight green and yellow runes and holding it in place – preventing it from being opened for some time.
We jogged back to the main chamber where we shut the secret passage to Queen Zenobia’ s chamber and then dragged the false sarcophagus in front of the door to further confound it from being opened and the undead from getting out to attack us.
The scepter was black, flanged, lightly jeweled and according to Vulkan, radiated magic. He had seen things like this before and suspected it would hold spells, a few of them, for the mage – beyond what he normally was able to memorize in a given day.
We then wanted to go to King Alexander’s chamber – this time more away of what we were going to find and hopefully be done in there before the Queen escaped the held chamber and came out to find us.
The passage was similar to the other side, from the dust to the webs to the door and also the clay seals. We took hammer to seals and during the beating of them, we didn’t see a flash of green – but instead a brief whining high pitched cry. Not wanting to be caught off guard and using the whine as a warning, we took out a few candled, heated up the wax and molded it until it could fit in our ears, deadening our hearing for now.
We drew weapons and as one, opened the door and peered in. Room was similar to Queen Zenobia’s, except this time there was a baleful spirit hovering over the King’s sarcophagus, red tears for eyes and a ragged hole for a mouth. It merely stared at us. No one wanted to walk in. So we talked to it. Explained who we were, what we were doing, talking about Cyndicia and how it had fallen and how Zargon is polluting it all. We needed the ancient king’s sword to help defeat the beast and wanted the spirit to know that King Alexander would feel the same way.
Whether it was the pleading, the connection to King Alexander, or who knows what – but the spirit did come over to the door and we showed it the Scepter of Zenobia with the markings of Usimagarius, and the Mace of Gorm with the Gormian runes. All that was missing was the Sword of King Alexander and we’d have one of each weapon from the ancient Cyndician gods and be able to take the fight to Zargon himself.
The spirit went back to the sarcophagus, disappeared within, and came out with King Alexander’s sword. Delsin was instructed to remove Heatstroke – and the two weapons swapped places. He now held the wide bladed 4’ long rune encrusted sword which read on one side: Sword of Delsin, and the other: Knight of Cyndicia. Taking it reverently, he also had his king’s guard platemail swapped out for the enchanted platemail that King Alexander had been buried in.
We left the room humbled and decided to head our way down to the 5th level and hole up again in the secret room with the chest, rest, eat, study, pray, and heal our wounds. We made our way out of the tombs, through the rocks until we arrived at the section where we had to crawl underneath the standing stone. Once through we kicked the rock repeatedly until it finally settled down in place – hopefully sealing the tombs and possible escape of the undead creature Queen Zenobia turned out to be.
We then went to leave, making our way through the swinging pendulum axe blade traps, until we arrived back at the secret door which we lifted up and…came face to face with 4 rock baboons. Mark stepped forward confidently, talking to the baboons, hooting and pantomiming with them, even peeing when they did – the same as he had done days ago when we first faced them. They were pleased to remember Mark and we swapped food, and they wanted to explore the new now open room. So we let them, and made our way down the ladder in the middle of the hall to the 5th level.
We emerged back into Darius’ chamber and then went to the north west corner where we opened the secret chamber, shuffled in, and shut it behind us. From here we rested and awoke the next day feeling much better. Spells were studied and prayed for and then we emerged, heading our way through the bedroom south to the next door.
It was here that we saw the kitchen and dining room – the two big snakes that had been in here were not seen – but we ran across the chamber to the next room south and opened the door there. Two metal statues, low divans and a door on the east. Oh yeah, they remembered this. We dragged Vulkan across the room who was convinced that this time he had a good idea on how to take care of the statues, ignoring his pleas as we hit the eastern corridor and shut the door behind us.
We passed the remains of the gargoyle, made our way to the large carpeted office with the desk, and decided to look the room over again. We looked in the drawers and found some silver coins, a handful or topaz gems, and a potion in a drawer where the label had fallen off but the drawer had two labels in it: Potion of Healing and Potion of Death.
What? How did we know what this was?
The decision was made to find one of the many mice in the tomb and feed it a few drops of the potion. Which we did, and the mouse died. Ok – potion of death! Got it!
From here we left the office north, back to the hallway where the pit trap had been identified, and decided to head back to the waystation of Gorm on the west side of this floor to ask the priests there if they knew of where Demetrius might be so we could take care of him.
The walk was uneventful and in no time we passed through the wards and had some words on where to go. The east side of the floor past the great room, Demetrius could be found surrounded by the Cyndician followers of Zargon. So that was where we were going to go.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Meet 29, Adv 4, 10/14/17
I had cautioned the group some time ago that not every encounter has to be faced head on like a band saw - the option to flee is always there. Thankfully, they've been taking advantage of this more as the years have gone on, and this meeting was no exception. The K'Morat are retreating in places during the fight, why shouldn't the party?
Yes there is a Frost Giant in the area, and yes, it come when the Shaman calls. No one is saying the group has to fight it, not at 2nd/3rd level. They'll have to be smarter in the future.
Write up follows:
The hall ended and turned to the right and Barb motioned the group to be silent as she crept closer to listen; hearing the faint creak of wood on stone and wood on wood. She guessed the K’Morat were there and they were ready for us. Letting the party know, the group then decided to set up the area behind them.
As the cross corridor, Darius laid out a thin sprinkling of caltrops, covering the floor in question down the south side, and then laid a layer of flour at the crossing to track any K’Morat tracks. He then rejoined Barba at the front and the party drew themselves up for combat.
Wicking and then lighting a flask of oil, Darius hurled it into the hall and room where the K’Morat had positioned a number of tables to act as barriers against the party. The oil hit the ceiling and rained fire down on the kobolds below as the ones in the front hurled their javelins and they clattered against Barba and Darius. Connal was right behind, spear at the ready; everyone hunched down in the narrow passage as Barb hit the first barrier and tried to knock it away.
It was braced from the other side; the half-orc rocked back but couldn’t get through. Javelins were bouncing about, scratching and blasting against her; enough so that she snarled, twisted her head, and raged. Her armor stretched, the sinews burst, and she pushed her way through the mess of tables, kicking the kobolds in her way aside. Connal took up position at the doorway while Darius slung a U-bolt into the room and took of another K’Morat’s skull.
Meanwhile from the other side, Negan heard K’Morat closing down the passage from the north and he swapped his shields, turned and started turtling his way back down the passage towards the rest of the group, shoving Avulstein ahead of him. He dropped his own bag of caltrops on the floor and made it around the corner as the K’Morat drew closer and continued to chirp and snarl.
In the main room a number of the K’Morat turned to run, fleeing down a narrow western passage, leaving many of the remaining one behind. Barb impaled one on her spear and then shook it off before accosting the next. Avulstein sent Centius back to ward the passage with Negan who loaded up his own flask of oil and tossed the lit mess back down the passage. Two of the K’Morat were screaming their heads off while others tried to storm forward, only one getting through the layer of caltrops. He was assaulted instantly, hacked apart and left to die while the K’Morat began to break.
With only a few left, Darius ran back towards Negan to help, leaving Barb to slam her spear into one of the fleeing lizard men, tossing him back into the fray, and Connal finishing off the one he was fighting. The Half-orc buried her spear in the one kobold and then started to come down from her rage high. As for the last two near Negan, one was killed with a spear in the face and the last tried running south, hit the caltrops we had placed there, fell on them, and dragged himself forward until he died.
We policed the bodies, dragging them into what was once the K’Morat quarters, knocking the tables away from their bracing and then hacking the ears off them for proof of collection. We blocked the corridor we had come down by taking one of the tables, running at the passage, and then lifting the table vertical at the last moment; jamming it in place so hard it didn’t shake free. Two bracing bars and some stuffed bodies (compliments of Negan) went towards filling in the gaps.
As for the other passage to the west, it was perhaps 30’ and turned south – narrow, dark, and we didn’t trust it. So after a light stone verified what we knew – we decided to jam that passage up as well with another table. From here we then left the room out the north and east passage that we had verified joined back up with the main corridor that we had come in. But we did the table trick again, this time backwards and in our direction – making it difficult as hell for anyone to come this way or get behind us.
We stayed in tight formation, Barb leading the way, arriving back at the cross corridor. We snagged the ears from the last K’Morat who had died here beyond the caltrops, and continued on. It was some 30 odd paces and then a turn to the right. The corridor here was still just over 5’ tall and sloped down at a 15 degree angle. Plus there was the smell of rotting for and feces making us gag as we walked.
We descended the slope for some 25, 30 feet until it leveled out – passage continued ahead eventually opening to some chamber, side passage to the right just at the base of the slope. Floor has about ¾ of an inch of filth on it, making it a bit slippery. Barb looked down the side passage – 20’? Turned to the right – just as foul. Guess was it was a midden.
She went to step ahead when her boot came in contact with a wire. Stretched across the hall, affixed on the left – going into a hole on the right. She pulled her boot back and we all backed down (up?) the passage and discussed our options. We wanted to keep going and decided to trip the wire from a distance with a grappling hook. We had to toss it a few times past and over the wire until it was set and then…we pulled!
Just a *PLINK* - nothing else. Maybe a gurgling noise? We backed away again and after some time decided it was safe to go on. So Barb once more took lead and as we were all travelling to the side passage and the wire, the ground below Barb fell away and she plummeted 9’ down to a pit filled with a foot or so of liquid filth and dozens of sharpened sticks. Although she hit a few of them, one punched through her armor and went into her right thigh. She was moaning and looking for some help out of the pit when coming from the long corridor and hitting those still up at the top with some atlatl thrown javelins.
Barb tossed her rope up and it was passed back to Negan but from the side passage MORE javelins were flying and the group was whittling hit points. As we helped Barb to the top she took two hits in the back as we ran up the slope and around the corner. A couple of quick healing draughts went and we were discussing our options when something was tossed UP the slope and landed with a wet thud by us.
Negan was yelling “Go! Go! Go!” barrel rushing everyone towards the entrance, not waiting to see what it was that was thrown our way. We hit the cross corridor and then each of us pulled our way up the steep slope to the surface. Barba was directing everyone to another fallen tree across the meadow while Darius was waiting for Negan (the last) to slide himself out of the warren. As he was trying to untie the silk rope he heard noises below, so it was a quick cut and then ran like mad across the meadow to dive behind the tree with the rest of the group.
We waited only a few minutes as the K’Morat came out, spears at the ready. First it was two, then 5, then a dozen. Our faces fell as the warren continued to empty – the K’Morat positioning themselves in a circular pattern around the entrance, layers deep. Eventually after perhaps 40 or more emerged, the last few fairly well armored and one of them covered in fetishes and markings, we realized that this was quite a bit for us to chew off.
The shaman type called out some words and pointed his hands to the sky. Three globes of light flew up, higher and higher, until over the tree tops they blossomed yellow, blue, and red. Satisfied, the shaman then retreated back down the hole and the other K’Morat did the same. We were growing uneasy and decided the lights (still there) might be a signal or beacon, so we left the safety of the tree, ran across the meadow, and started making our way north and east, getting clear of the place.
It was good that we did so because striding quickly from the south and west was a 14’ tall or so blue skinned armored and bearded giant with a double bitted axe, making a bee line towards the K’Morat warren. We doubled our speed and moved on. As we went, Barb was slowing down; her injuries and other problem were getting worse. We crested the ridge and eventually made it to the stone house on the shore of the mountain lake.
Barb was now burning up, the foulness from the pit making her sick and it wasn’t getting better. A few of us went out for birch bark while Darius brewed it into a tea using an old pepper tin as a cup. We washed her wounds as best as we could and decision was to stay here for the night and head off to base camp tomorrow.
We slept and the next day it was like a flood out there. Lightning and thunder, rain was coming down in buckets, and Barb was worse, coughing ragged lungfuls of air as she tried to get it under control. We made a carrying travois for her out of parts of the couch, rope, and a blanket, positioning her on top while Negan and Darius carried her out and into the rain.
It sucked, and it took us almost 6 hours to navigate our way around Furtham’s Peak and back to the Enderlyn River, following the flow back to Base Camp. We were let in, complained that the Giant Killers weren’t doing their fucking job, headed off complaints from the Bailiff that we hadn’t finished up the Warren, and then opted to see Spunifer of the Randari Rangers to see if she had some way of alleviating Barb’s now almost chronic illness.
Spunifer wanted some servitude from Barb who refused which infuriated the druid. She claimed that honor to the clan was more important than her own wants; called Barb an honorless cur and left her to her own devices. We talked about going to the alchemist’s next and seeing if they had something that would help.
Yes there is a Frost Giant in the area, and yes, it come when the Shaman calls. No one is saying the group has to fight it, not at 2nd/3rd level. They'll have to be smarter in the future.
Write up follows:
The hall ended and turned to the right and Barb motioned the group to be silent as she crept closer to listen; hearing the faint creak of wood on stone and wood on wood. She guessed the K’Morat were there and they were ready for us. Letting the party know, the group then decided to set up the area behind them.
As the cross corridor, Darius laid out a thin sprinkling of caltrops, covering the floor in question down the south side, and then laid a layer of flour at the crossing to track any K’Morat tracks. He then rejoined Barba at the front and the party drew themselves up for combat.
Wicking and then lighting a flask of oil, Darius hurled it into the hall and room where the K’Morat had positioned a number of tables to act as barriers against the party. The oil hit the ceiling and rained fire down on the kobolds below as the ones in the front hurled their javelins and they clattered against Barba and Darius. Connal was right behind, spear at the ready; everyone hunched down in the narrow passage as Barb hit the first barrier and tried to knock it away.
It was braced from the other side; the half-orc rocked back but couldn’t get through. Javelins were bouncing about, scratching and blasting against her; enough so that she snarled, twisted her head, and raged. Her armor stretched, the sinews burst, and she pushed her way through the mess of tables, kicking the kobolds in her way aside. Connal took up position at the doorway while Darius slung a U-bolt into the room and took of another K’Morat’s skull.
Meanwhile from the other side, Negan heard K’Morat closing down the passage from the north and he swapped his shields, turned and started turtling his way back down the passage towards the rest of the group, shoving Avulstein ahead of him. He dropped his own bag of caltrops on the floor and made it around the corner as the K’Morat drew closer and continued to chirp and snarl.
In the main room a number of the K’Morat turned to run, fleeing down a narrow western passage, leaving many of the remaining one behind. Barb impaled one on her spear and then shook it off before accosting the next. Avulstein sent Centius back to ward the passage with Negan who loaded up his own flask of oil and tossed the lit mess back down the passage. Two of the K’Morat were screaming their heads off while others tried to storm forward, only one getting through the layer of caltrops. He was assaulted instantly, hacked apart and left to die while the K’Morat began to break.
With only a few left, Darius ran back towards Negan to help, leaving Barb to slam her spear into one of the fleeing lizard men, tossing him back into the fray, and Connal finishing off the one he was fighting. The Half-orc buried her spear in the one kobold and then started to come down from her rage high. As for the last two near Negan, one was killed with a spear in the face and the last tried running south, hit the caltrops we had placed there, fell on them, and dragged himself forward until he died.
We policed the bodies, dragging them into what was once the K’Morat quarters, knocking the tables away from their bracing and then hacking the ears off them for proof of collection. We blocked the corridor we had come down by taking one of the tables, running at the passage, and then lifting the table vertical at the last moment; jamming it in place so hard it didn’t shake free. Two bracing bars and some stuffed bodies (compliments of Negan) went towards filling in the gaps.
As for the other passage to the west, it was perhaps 30’ and turned south – narrow, dark, and we didn’t trust it. So after a light stone verified what we knew – we decided to jam that passage up as well with another table. From here we then left the room out the north and east passage that we had verified joined back up with the main corridor that we had come in. But we did the table trick again, this time backwards and in our direction – making it difficult as hell for anyone to come this way or get behind us.
We stayed in tight formation, Barb leading the way, arriving back at the cross corridor. We snagged the ears from the last K’Morat who had died here beyond the caltrops, and continued on. It was some 30 odd paces and then a turn to the right. The corridor here was still just over 5’ tall and sloped down at a 15 degree angle. Plus there was the smell of rotting for and feces making us gag as we walked.
We descended the slope for some 25, 30 feet until it leveled out – passage continued ahead eventually opening to some chamber, side passage to the right just at the base of the slope. Floor has about ¾ of an inch of filth on it, making it a bit slippery. Barb looked down the side passage – 20’? Turned to the right – just as foul. Guess was it was a midden.
She went to step ahead when her boot came in contact with a wire. Stretched across the hall, affixed on the left – going into a hole on the right. She pulled her boot back and we all backed down (up?) the passage and discussed our options. We wanted to keep going and decided to trip the wire from a distance with a grappling hook. We had to toss it a few times past and over the wire until it was set and then…we pulled!
Just a *PLINK* - nothing else. Maybe a gurgling noise? We backed away again and after some time decided it was safe to go on. So Barb once more took lead and as we were all travelling to the side passage and the wire, the ground below Barb fell away and she plummeted 9’ down to a pit filled with a foot or so of liquid filth and dozens of sharpened sticks. Although she hit a few of them, one punched through her armor and went into her right thigh. She was moaning and looking for some help out of the pit when coming from the long corridor and hitting those still up at the top with some atlatl thrown javelins.
Barb tossed her rope up and it was passed back to Negan but from the side passage MORE javelins were flying and the group was whittling hit points. As we helped Barb to the top she took two hits in the back as we ran up the slope and around the corner. A couple of quick healing draughts went and we were discussing our options when something was tossed UP the slope and landed with a wet thud by us.
Negan was yelling “Go! Go! Go!” barrel rushing everyone towards the entrance, not waiting to see what it was that was thrown our way. We hit the cross corridor and then each of us pulled our way up the steep slope to the surface. Barba was directing everyone to another fallen tree across the meadow while Darius was waiting for Negan (the last) to slide himself out of the warren. As he was trying to untie the silk rope he heard noises below, so it was a quick cut and then ran like mad across the meadow to dive behind the tree with the rest of the group.
We waited only a few minutes as the K’Morat came out, spears at the ready. First it was two, then 5, then a dozen. Our faces fell as the warren continued to empty – the K’Morat positioning themselves in a circular pattern around the entrance, layers deep. Eventually after perhaps 40 or more emerged, the last few fairly well armored and one of them covered in fetishes and markings, we realized that this was quite a bit for us to chew off.
The shaman type called out some words and pointed his hands to the sky. Three globes of light flew up, higher and higher, until over the tree tops they blossomed yellow, blue, and red. Satisfied, the shaman then retreated back down the hole and the other K’Morat did the same. We were growing uneasy and decided the lights (still there) might be a signal or beacon, so we left the safety of the tree, ran across the meadow, and started making our way north and east, getting clear of the place.
It was good that we did so because striding quickly from the south and west was a 14’ tall or so blue skinned armored and bearded giant with a double bitted axe, making a bee line towards the K’Morat warren. We doubled our speed and moved on. As we went, Barb was slowing down; her injuries and other problem were getting worse. We crested the ridge and eventually made it to the stone house on the shore of the mountain lake.
Barb was now burning up, the foulness from the pit making her sick and it wasn’t getting better. A few of us went out for birch bark while Darius brewed it into a tea using an old pepper tin as a cup. We washed her wounds as best as we could and decision was to stay here for the night and head off to base camp tomorrow.
We slept and the next day it was like a flood out there. Lightning and thunder, rain was coming down in buckets, and Barb was worse, coughing ragged lungfuls of air as she tried to get it under control. We made a carrying travois for her out of parts of the couch, rope, and a blanket, positioning her on top while Negan and Darius carried her out and into the rain.
It sucked, and it took us almost 6 hours to navigate our way around Furtham’s Peak and back to the Enderlyn River, following the flow back to Base Camp. We were let in, complained that the Giant Killers weren’t doing their fucking job, headed off complaints from the Bailiff that we hadn’t finished up the Warren, and then opted to see Spunifer of the Randari Rangers to see if she had some way of alleviating Barb’s now almost chronic illness.
Spunifer wanted some servitude from Barb who refused which infuriated the druid. She claimed that honor to the clan was more important than her own wants; called Barb an honorless cur and left her to her own devices. We talked about going to the alchemist’s next and seeing if they had something that would help.
Monday, October 9, 2017
Meet 28, Adv 4, 10/7/17
The uncivilized section of the wandering monster table is a beast and the party had three serious contenders: trolls (3), Frost Giant (1), and owlbears (3).
For outdoor adventures, I give the group a chance to hear the quarry first, giving them a chance to stop. They succeeded two of the three times and were able to hide at first. The trolls miserably failed to scent or notice the group but I did manage to freak the party out since I split the trio of trolls up into a long line, separating the lead troll from the next two by almost 250'.
The giant actually belongs in the area and his presence might be explained and make sense later, right now he was merely offering some food to the K'Morat and moved on. I gave a check for him, rolling a 1, meaning the giant fumbled on even knowing the party was there.
During the night, a skunk came to root around the party's trash and food, eventually chased away but did spray one of the sleeping party members. So when at 4 in the morning I rolled ANOTHER wandering monster and it was owlbears, three - I had them attack and eat the skunks - getting the musk all over them.
This deadened their sense of smell but could still hear the party if they were noisy - and they were - but a poor roll (6 out of 20) had the owlbears not be able to pinpoint on where the group is and they wandered off.
Any one of these three encounters could have chased the party off and/or killed them. And that's why it is INFINITELY better to sleep and camp out in a green slime infested stone building than try to get a night's rest under the stars.
Write up follows:
So it was Firemonth the 7th and we were at some ancient orcish stone house sinking slowly into the shores and surface of a mountain lake about 4 miles from Base Camp where Avulstein’s zombie bobcat had just been eaten by a green slime. It was raining…hard, and the group was discussing whether to stay here, continue on, or head back to Base Camp and try again tomorrow.
The consensus was to stay and if the K’Morat come back, to ambush them. But how to be prepared? There are no windows on the lower floor, and the upper floor had the slime. So someone would have to wait outside, in the rain. We went through options and then Avulstein gave vote to having Centius wait and warn us, his zombie familiar.
However, even after he was outside he couldn’t think of a safe enough place for him to wait and hide, and there are other things besides kobolds out here. So he came back in and the decision was we’d just stay inside and hope for the best. Negan hacked apart the one couch still together on the main floor and once stripped, took out the main crosspiece to act as a locking bar for the main door.
Safely in place, we settled down, talked for a while, ate and then by 6, we all went to sleep, everyone taking a turn on a 2 hour watch. The night passed without much issue and we awoke early the next day, out and on the way by quarter to 6, as the dawn light was filling the world.
Barb took point and we followed the trail to the south and west until around 7, Barb wasn’t sure we were on the K’Morat trail anymore, so we backtracked until she was confident again and we set off, going up one ridge line and leaving the lake and lakehouse behind us. As we were still coming down the heights and making headway, a few of us heard rhythmic grunting and stepping in the woods ahead.
We stopped, hid, and waited. Watching. An 8’ tall green wrinkled sodden looking humanoid with greasy hair and makeshift clothes was stomping along, holding a brace of rabbits and a crude bow. Troll, big and nasty. We didn’t want to tangle with it and waited. It passed by and then two more came out of the woods, a branch with a deer on it, head removed. The two trolls yelled to the front one and they argued in their language before picking up speed and chasing after the leader.
Three trolls. No thanks.
Once they were long passed, we continued down until we were at the foothills and base of the mountain ridge we had come down. We noticed that there was a large meadow of grasses around here and up ahead, a couple of hundred acres or so, broken up by fallen and standing copses of trees. Darius’ keen eyes picked up a flash of blue ahead and we approached with care.
A fox, the size of a small pony, royal blue and white in color, sporting two tails. Mutated animal. It was then we also realized that we hadn’t heard much in the way of nearby game or animals, signs that Hornes had given us as being near a K’Morat Warren. The fox had been killed, dead for a week, smashed along its flank by a number of hurled 6-8# rocks. No maggots or flies meant it was just rotting away.
It was here that we spread out to a long line, running 10 paces between us and we started to look for the Warren. Barb was guiding us, the half-orc barbarian’s keen eye and insight picking up clues in the trees and grasses. There were many signs that kobolds had been in the area and we worked our way south across the meadows, hoping to find some cave in the southern foothills. But as we travelled on, game returned and Barb saw no sign of K’Morat again so we went back to the meadow.
It took almost 2 hours of circling and searching, but Barb discovered a cave entrance under the roots of a fallen Douglas Fir tree in a meadow of 3’ tall bladegrass. The entrance was a mass of earth and stones, and hundreds of bones and splintered pieces. Many animals, some humanoid. The place stunk of scratched copper and dirty cinnamon – classic scents of kobolds.
We didn’t want to enter now, hoping to get a better lay of how many kobolds were within, so we travelled a bit away to another fallen tree, hid behind it and waited. Time passed. And as it grew closer to 6, outside of possibly setting the bladegrass on fire (it was raining on and off and truthfully, a wave of fire on an open meadow was not a good idea – firenado?), we realized that we needed to get away from here and get a camp set up.
So Barb led us south to the foothills and was hoping to take us west when the group heard and felt heavy slow steps, shaking the earth. We stopped and hid, crouching in the dark as the heavy tread grew closer, cracking branches and making some of the not too distant trees shake. And then the air grew colder, dropping 20 degrees swiftly. We heard a ripping sound and Barb’s infravision picked up the hot signs of half a cow flying far overhead and tossed into the field of bladegrass.
Half a cow.
And then, the other half of cow went flying overhead and after a few moments, the heavy tread of a giant was walking away into the night. Giant. Fucking giant. Feeding K’Morat a cow?
We got the hell out of here, travelling more west until Barb assured us we were in the foothills of a ridge and very far away from Giants and K’Morat warrens. Taking Trentis’ advice from our trip out here, we lit no fires, ate a cold meal, and set up watch for the night, as the rains fell making everyone miserable.
A skunk came to investigate the party, smelling our food but on Connal’s watch he hurled some rocks and chased it off. And then later on Barb’s watch the skunk returned and sprayed Negan, but she chased it off. But it was later on Darius’ watch that we heard the “HRROOOO-HAAA!” noise and call of the owlbear who had found a skunk and tore it apart, eating it. Three of them.
We all were up and waiting but the owlbears had skunk on their faces and couldn’t smell the party so they wandered off into the darkness. Darius offered to stay up longer and the group went back to sleep. The next morn we were up at 7 and even though we had slept, Darius and Barb were feeling tired and the rigors of the poor sleep, wet clothes, middle watches, and being on guard was taking a toll on the two of them. They were not going to be at 100% today.
We broke our fast and headed back to the K’Morat warren, arriving in the area around 10. The cow carcass? Gone, only blood smears and chunks of meat. We approached the lair and saw lots of cow bones splintered and gnawed added to the entrance area.
It was time to enter. At the lair, Darius used his silk rope (not poor people rope! That’s hemp and is too scratchy) tied to the roots of the tree and with that aid, Barb descended into the gloomy earth cave. It was just under 5’ wide and was about 6’ tall, but the further she went down the slope and eventually under the ground, the lower the ceiling until it was just over 5’ tall…cramped for most of us.
The reek of feces was strong and she crept along until she came up a residual fading heat source that indicated that K’Morat HAD been here only a few minutes ago and had moved on elsewhere. She returned to the slope, climbed up, and let us know her findings. We were going to go down, Negan at the back, and take care to look about. So one by one, we slid down the slope, the rope helping, until even Negan, making a whole lot of racket joined us and we all gathered together following Barb. A light spell had been cast on the center of Centius’ shield and for now that would illuminate our way, easily covered if Barb needed to use her infravision.
We travelled along until the corridor split into three – straight ahead, right, or left, each running some 20 paces before turning. Barb checked left and right, hearing nothing much, and then returned, and we decided to travel straight instead. So she stepped ahead.
*PLINK*
Her booted feet snapped a tripwire and 250# of ceiling deadfalled on top of the half-orc, knocking her to her knees. Connal went to help her us when the two of them noticed amidst the filth were some scores of bugs beetles and almost half a dozen foot long centipedes – slithering under her hair line, neck of her armor, and upon her back. Before they could bite, Negan called to Odin to banish the vermin from the area and the bugs all popped away to ash and dust.
Connal helped Barb up, dusted her off and we decided we would be more careful of traps ahead in the future. Any stealth we might have had was now long gone between the noises entering the cave, the conversations, the falling deadfall trap, and then coughing and sputtering that follows. So it was weapons out and backs squared as we followed Barb’s lead as she took us boldly down the main central corridor.
For outdoor adventures, I give the group a chance to hear the quarry first, giving them a chance to stop. They succeeded two of the three times and were able to hide at first. The trolls miserably failed to scent or notice the group but I did manage to freak the party out since I split the trio of trolls up into a long line, separating the lead troll from the next two by almost 250'.
The giant actually belongs in the area and his presence might be explained and make sense later, right now he was merely offering some food to the K'Morat and moved on. I gave a check for him, rolling a 1, meaning the giant fumbled on even knowing the party was there.
During the night, a skunk came to root around the party's trash and food, eventually chased away but did spray one of the sleeping party members. So when at 4 in the morning I rolled ANOTHER wandering monster and it was owlbears, three - I had them attack and eat the skunks - getting the musk all over them.
This deadened their sense of smell but could still hear the party if they were noisy - and they were - but a poor roll (6 out of 20) had the owlbears not be able to pinpoint on where the group is and they wandered off.
Any one of these three encounters could have chased the party off and/or killed them. And that's why it is INFINITELY better to sleep and camp out in a green slime infested stone building than try to get a night's rest under the stars.
Write up follows:
So it was Firemonth the 7th and we were at some ancient orcish stone house sinking slowly into the shores and surface of a mountain lake about 4 miles from Base Camp where Avulstein’s zombie bobcat had just been eaten by a green slime. It was raining…hard, and the group was discussing whether to stay here, continue on, or head back to Base Camp and try again tomorrow.
The consensus was to stay and if the K’Morat come back, to ambush them. But how to be prepared? There are no windows on the lower floor, and the upper floor had the slime. So someone would have to wait outside, in the rain. We went through options and then Avulstein gave vote to having Centius wait and warn us, his zombie familiar.
However, even after he was outside he couldn’t think of a safe enough place for him to wait and hide, and there are other things besides kobolds out here. So he came back in and the decision was we’d just stay inside and hope for the best. Negan hacked apart the one couch still together on the main floor and once stripped, took out the main crosspiece to act as a locking bar for the main door.
Safely in place, we settled down, talked for a while, ate and then by 6, we all went to sleep, everyone taking a turn on a 2 hour watch. The night passed without much issue and we awoke early the next day, out and on the way by quarter to 6, as the dawn light was filling the world.
Barb took point and we followed the trail to the south and west until around 7, Barb wasn’t sure we were on the K’Morat trail anymore, so we backtracked until she was confident again and we set off, going up one ridge line and leaving the lake and lakehouse behind us. As we were still coming down the heights and making headway, a few of us heard rhythmic grunting and stepping in the woods ahead.
We stopped, hid, and waited. Watching. An 8’ tall green wrinkled sodden looking humanoid with greasy hair and makeshift clothes was stomping along, holding a brace of rabbits and a crude bow. Troll, big and nasty. We didn’t want to tangle with it and waited. It passed by and then two more came out of the woods, a branch with a deer on it, head removed. The two trolls yelled to the front one and they argued in their language before picking up speed and chasing after the leader.
Three trolls. No thanks.
Once they were long passed, we continued down until we were at the foothills and base of the mountain ridge we had come down. We noticed that there was a large meadow of grasses around here and up ahead, a couple of hundred acres or so, broken up by fallen and standing copses of trees. Darius’ keen eyes picked up a flash of blue ahead and we approached with care.
A fox, the size of a small pony, royal blue and white in color, sporting two tails. Mutated animal. It was then we also realized that we hadn’t heard much in the way of nearby game or animals, signs that Hornes had given us as being near a K’Morat Warren. The fox had been killed, dead for a week, smashed along its flank by a number of hurled 6-8# rocks. No maggots or flies meant it was just rotting away.
It was here that we spread out to a long line, running 10 paces between us and we started to look for the Warren. Barb was guiding us, the half-orc barbarian’s keen eye and insight picking up clues in the trees and grasses. There were many signs that kobolds had been in the area and we worked our way south across the meadows, hoping to find some cave in the southern foothills. But as we travelled on, game returned and Barb saw no sign of K’Morat again so we went back to the meadow.
It took almost 2 hours of circling and searching, but Barb discovered a cave entrance under the roots of a fallen Douglas Fir tree in a meadow of 3’ tall bladegrass. The entrance was a mass of earth and stones, and hundreds of bones and splintered pieces. Many animals, some humanoid. The place stunk of scratched copper and dirty cinnamon – classic scents of kobolds.
We didn’t want to enter now, hoping to get a better lay of how many kobolds were within, so we travelled a bit away to another fallen tree, hid behind it and waited. Time passed. And as it grew closer to 6, outside of possibly setting the bladegrass on fire (it was raining on and off and truthfully, a wave of fire on an open meadow was not a good idea – firenado?), we realized that we needed to get away from here and get a camp set up.
So Barb led us south to the foothills and was hoping to take us west when the group heard and felt heavy slow steps, shaking the earth. We stopped and hid, crouching in the dark as the heavy tread grew closer, cracking branches and making some of the not too distant trees shake. And then the air grew colder, dropping 20 degrees swiftly. We heard a ripping sound and Barb’s infravision picked up the hot signs of half a cow flying far overhead and tossed into the field of bladegrass.
Half a cow.
And then, the other half of cow went flying overhead and after a few moments, the heavy tread of a giant was walking away into the night. Giant. Fucking giant. Feeding K’Morat a cow?
We got the hell out of here, travelling more west until Barb assured us we were in the foothills of a ridge and very far away from Giants and K’Morat warrens. Taking Trentis’ advice from our trip out here, we lit no fires, ate a cold meal, and set up watch for the night, as the rains fell making everyone miserable.
A skunk came to investigate the party, smelling our food but on Connal’s watch he hurled some rocks and chased it off. And then later on Barb’s watch the skunk returned and sprayed Negan, but she chased it off. But it was later on Darius’ watch that we heard the “HRROOOO-HAAA!” noise and call of the owlbear who had found a skunk and tore it apart, eating it. Three of them.
We all were up and waiting but the owlbears had skunk on their faces and couldn’t smell the party so they wandered off into the darkness. Darius offered to stay up longer and the group went back to sleep. The next morn we were up at 7 and even though we had slept, Darius and Barb were feeling tired and the rigors of the poor sleep, wet clothes, middle watches, and being on guard was taking a toll on the two of them. They were not going to be at 100% today.
We broke our fast and headed back to the K’Morat warren, arriving in the area around 10. The cow carcass? Gone, only blood smears and chunks of meat. We approached the lair and saw lots of cow bones splintered and gnawed added to the entrance area.
It was time to enter. At the lair, Darius used his silk rope (not poor people rope! That’s hemp and is too scratchy) tied to the roots of the tree and with that aid, Barb descended into the gloomy earth cave. It was just under 5’ wide and was about 6’ tall, but the further she went down the slope and eventually under the ground, the lower the ceiling until it was just over 5’ tall…cramped for most of us.
The reek of feces was strong and she crept along until she came up a residual fading heat source that indicated that K’Morat HAD been here only a few minutes ago and had moved on elsewhere. She returned to the slope, climbed up, and let us know her findings. We were going to go down, Negan at the back, and take care to look about. So one by one, we slid down the slope, the rope helping, until even Negan, making a whole lot of racket joined us and we all gathered together following Barb. A light spell had been cast on the center of Centius’ shield and for now that would illuminate our way, easily covered if Barb needed to use her infravision.
We travelled along until the corridor split into three – straight ahead, right, or left, each running some 20 paces before turning. Barb checked left and right, hearing nothing much, and then returned, and we decided to travel straight instead. So she stepped ahead.
*PLINK*
Her booted feet snapped a tripwire and 250# of ceiling deadfalled on top of the half-orc, knocking her to her knees. Connal went to help her us when the two of them noticed amidst the filth were some scores of bugs beetles and almost half a dozen foot long centipedes – slithering under her hair line, neck of her armor, and upon her back. Before they could bite, Negan called to Odin to banish the vermin from the area and the bugs all popped away to ash and dust.
Connal helped Barb up, dusted her off and we decided we would be more careful of traps ahead in the future. Any stealth we might have had was now long gone between the noises entering the cave, the conversations, the falling deadfall trap, and then coughing and sputtering that follows. So it was weapons out and backs squared as we followed Barb’s lead as she took us boldly down the main central corridor.
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
Meet 27, Adv 4, 9/30/17
The group was doing their version of a hex crawl, looking for any of three kobold lairs and warrens. Instead of branching out and looking forever, they had a decent plan to follow any kobolds who showed themselves back to their lair.
The kobolds who did show outpaced the group but they had a heading and direction to go and are following the crumbs to the first lair. Not their yet, at a former orcish lake house about half way to their destination and crawling about the joint.
We'll see them (hopefully!) at the lair next week and then see how they do against the K'Morat warriors in the area.
Write up follows:
The party slept well and we awoke the next morning by 7. After going to the Mess hall and breaking our fast, we had the opportunity to talk with Ruhilhd, the fat dwarven head cook for the Base Camp. After figuring out who we were, he promised to have some extra food prepared for us to take on our trip, at least enough for today plus something for an additional day. He even promised Negan a third day just in case since the half-ogre flat out inquired about it.
We readied ourselves for our trip out and by 8:30 or so, the runners for the Randari Rangers had returned to Base Camp and gave the harvesters direction on where to go to get today’s potential crop of Firvin’s Cap (roughly just under 2 hours distance). Thiklish, the Halfling leader of the harvesters, was unsure of taking Barb and wanted to make sure from the Reeve that it was ok since the half-orc barbarian was until recently a member of the rangers. After getting the green light, the entire group of 19; 10 harvesters and 9 members of the party, left the Base Camp amidst many members of the harvesters chatting incessantly about the benefits of Baldur and why he’s most likely the best of all the gods.
Every ¼ mile from camp, we followed whatever directions and blaze markings had been given to us, finding the next member of the Randari Rangers who directed us further which way to go and then headed down the slope of Furtham’s Peak to the Base Camp. Quickly we reached 2, then 3,000 feet in height. The friendly banter had faded as we travelled upslope, west and southwest from Base Camp. The fir trees in the area were still towering at 100’ feet in height but as we climbed in altitude, their majestic heights were shrinking and the number of bushes and smaller hardier growths were increasing.
By 11we had arrived at over 4,500 feet in height and about 2 miles from Base Camp. Hornes and Spunifer were on hand here to meet us, the final members of the Randari Rangers. There were 8 possible Firvin’s Caps to harvest covering an area about 100 yards square. They had seen no sign of any K’Morat so far and wished us well, looking forward to seeing us back in camp later on this afternoon.
Thiklish was thrilled for the possibility of 8 Caps to harvest; it’s been over a week since they had that option and over 40 days since they’ve been able to bring that much in at a single harvesting. They set to immediately, splitting into two groups to work on the 2’+ tall fungi while the party spread out and surrounded the harvesters in the efforts.
Within 45 minutes they had collected their first specimen and a few minutes later were done with the second. They were sealed in clay jars with wax and paper, laid aside and the harvesters hit the next two mushrooms. The group still kept their eyes peeled. At one point a griffin was winging its way overhead searching, and then headed back the way it came. And still we kept eyes peeled.
Third, Fourth, then a break for lunch, then fifth, and finally 6th Firvin’s Cap was harvested. As the groups were hitting the 7th and 8th and the hour was encroaching past three, Negan and Avulstein’s keen eye picked up some movement in some of the underbrush to the south of the group. The necromancer immediately sent Frank, the undead zombie bobcat (can’t make this stuff up!!), to investigate. As it drew closer two javelins hit the undead from the front, stopping it, and then two more hit it from the side, rocking it left and right.
A group of K’Morat Warriors (8? 12?) drew themselves up and seeing the party begin to give chase started fleeing downhill and southwest of the harvesters. Barb, Avulstein, Negan, Darius, and Connal all broke into a run, the rest of the group staying behind the ward the harvesters in case more K’Morat were in the area.
We charged downhill, eating up ground with a loping gait as we chased after the K’Morat warriors, the kobolds yipping, thrashing, and bouncing down slope at breakneck speeds. We charged hard and even though Barb and Connal could have gone faster, they opted to stay with the rest of the group as the kobolds drew further and further ahead, eventually lost from our direct sight in the thick growth of the back side of Furtham’s Peak.
As our breathing getting labored and we had lost sight of our quarry, we slowed down and then came to a stop after 8 minutes of running through thick mountainous terrain. This wasn’t going to work. So we talked about our options and decided to go back to the harvesters for now, and then tomorrow come back to this area (Barb was confident she could get us here) and pick up the trail of the K’Morat early on. We could see down the slope to some mountain lake here that seemed to be where the kobolds were heading. Was as good of a plan as anything else.
It took the group almost a half hour to get back upslope to the harvesters who were finishing up their efforts. No other K’Morat had come by and by 4 we had 8 clay jars, 10 happy harvesters, and 9 party members heading back downslope and this time east northeast to Base Camp far below.
It was pretty quiet for us, with only a pair of giant owls making their presence know (actually dipping down to snag a deer and then take flight again). We arrived at Base Camp at almost 7, the sun was heading down and everyone was pretty worn out. But the Bailiff and Reeve came out along with 30 odd members of the Camp and watched as the two Illytch Alchemists tested each of the 8 jars and their contents…declaring them all prime specimens of Firvin’s Cap. This was a good thing and a big boon – 40 odd days since they’ve been able to bring that much down and without issue.
We rested up after eating, Ruhilhd once again promising us even more prepared food tomorrow now that he knew what was needed. The group got a good night in and we awoke the next morning on Firemonth the 7th ready to head back to the Southwest side of the Peak and track the kobolds.
It was raining. And hard. Visibility was reduced and the cloud cover was at 1,000 feet – meaning getting back to the place Barb had marked was going to be in 10’ visibility and no use to us. Plus, the K’Morat trail through the undergrowth would be muted over the day. We talked about options and decided to head out anyway. There was a ridge line that ran down Furtham’s Peak to the South to the next mountain, and even though the area was shrouded in clouds, Barb felt she could get us to the area of the lake and we could then pick up the trail hopefully of the K’Morat.
We left Base Camp at 8:30, again the same 5 members of the group who gave chase yesterday, while Thalin, Wolfskar, Merica, and Dizzy would go out with the harvesters to ward them. It was slow going and as we climbed higher and higher south and west of the Base Camp, circling the Peak, visibility dropped to 10’ tops and we were soaked through and to the skin. The baladrana’s kept the worst of the rain off but the moisture crept in anyway as we slogged unseeingly uphill.
At some point we crested over the ridge and started heading down. Barb kept turning the group a bit to the right as we travelled, keeping the mountain on our right side up slope as we travelled along. Finally around 11:30 we emerged from the cloud cover and were on the opposite side of Furtham’s Peak – with the mountain lake very visible some 1,000 feet below us through the trees. Good job, Barb.
We slogged down the mountain until we arrived at the foothill. Pushing our way through the increasingly muddy ground we came to the shores of the lake. It was oval in shaped, narrower to the north than the south, perhaps a mile and a third one way by a half mile the other. We wanted to pick up the K’Morat trail so started to walk counterclockwise along the lake where we were on the east side, heading uphill to get out of the mud and have a better view of the land, eyes peeled for the wide swath of flattened brush and disturbed needles we had seen the kobold’s leave as we chased them.
Before 1 we came upon their trail and followed it towards the lake shore again where we noted it ended at the water’s edge. Besides countless kobolds foot prints in the mud, there were also two long deep furrows in the mud, some 10-15’ long and ran straight out of the lake. Canoes? Boats? The K’Morat crossed the lake as opposed to running around it.
We could barely see across the lake in all the rain and decided to circle it and try to pick up the trail on the other side. As we walked we ate from our backs and kept our spirits up as the occasional crack of thunder sounded from the storm overhead. After a bit over a half hour of miserable walking we came to the opposite side of the lake where we saw a two story stone building situated right on the water’s edge, leaning slightly towards the lake itself. Two dugout canoes were here, each one dragged up on the shore some 15’ and left there, more foot prints around them. The trail then continued off to the southwest from here – but less defined and hastily made in appearance.
We decided to check out the building first in case any K’Morat were there. We approached slowly, emerging from the tree line with eyes peeled and weapons out. The building’s chimney had fallen away some time ago, leaving only a discolored section of the outer wall and a hole in the surface. There were no windows on the lower floor, and only a few smaller ones on the 2nd floor, each one was perhaps 1’ x 1’ tops.
At the building we heard nothing inside but wanted to look in. The entire structure was leaning towards the lake at 5 to 10 degree angle, the foundation stones closer to the lake either crumbled away of subsumed in the mud over time. Avulstein’s clawed feet were helpful for the wolverine to climb his way to the 2nd floor and peer in. It was some sort of moldy bedroom with a bed and a chest of drawers. Whatever glass was once in the windows had been busted out years ago. He came back down and let us know what he saw.
We went to the door, weapons ready, and pushed it open. Revealed ruins of a sitting room that took up half the building’s main floor. Moldy remains of a couch, busted table and some chairs, two doorways that lead elsewhere, other brick a brac, and a fire scorched area where the K’Morat most likely sat and kept warm and or ate. We checked it out, some bone fragments; one might even be orcish, everything wat damp and water logged. Two doors led to a room partially filled in the corner with lake water and the other had a fireplace, rotten chairs, and a set of wooden stairs heading up.
Frank was sent to prance in the water, nothing happened – perhaps 7” deep at best. Talk was to look upstairs so Avulstein sent Frank up and halfway up, the zombie bobcat slipped through two busted steps and fell to the floor. Ok, needed light and sure footed. Connal went up, balancing left and right on the stair frame, holding the wall and proceeding as carefully as he could.
On the second floor heard more water falling (drip drip drip), sitting room, two wing backed chairs soaked and puffy, leaning round table between them. Doorway to the right and to the south, no frames, just openings. He looked south, same bedroom Avulstein had seen, mold was partially up the walls. Faint vinegar scent to the air.
Avulstein came up, Negan lifting the wolverine past the broken section of the steps, and then doing the same for Frank the bobcat. Connal did find a number of chess pieces in the sitting room under the table – every white piece from the back row except the queen. He took them, finding no others.
Avulstein sent Frank into the bedroom he had seen and had it approach the bed and then climb on. The mattress was sodden, wet, and shredded under the bobcat’s weight. Within moments a black mass of rotten hay and feathers had soaked the bobcat who came off the mattress and back to Avulstein, the goo just dripping off of it. Gross. He then sent the bobcat into the next room to explore and look around and then return.
When Frank went through the frame, Connal and Avulstein heard a wet splattering sound and then something hit the floor. The necromancer was calling for Frank to return and we heard something dragging its way towards us. Slowly, Frank emerged, ¾ of the zombie was covering a thick olive green slimy mass that was oozing its way up and over his head and two front paws that were still dragging him closer. Avulstein ordered the zombie to stop and the two friends watched in horror as the slime worked up over Frank’s head and face and then his paws, totally covering him. The vinegar scent was frenetic now and within a few minutes tops the slime, no longer having the outline of the bobcat, moved towards the door frame and pulled itself UP, taking almost 5-6 minutes to crawl up the frame and onto the ceiling of the room Frank had died in.
Connal and Avulstein came back downstairs, and the party discussed what the fuck that was and should we stay or go. Darius let us know it took 3 hours to get here and if we wanted to get back to Base Camp, we should be leaving about 3:30 – it was already about quarter to 3. If we stay, do we set up a trap for K’Morat who might come in? Do we try to go upstairs? Not? Are we closer to the K’Morat lair if we stay out here? There was much discussion but the consensus was to stay here for now.
The kobolds who did show outpaced the group but they had a heading and direction to go and are following the crumbs to the first lair. Not their yet, at a former orcish lake house about half way to their destination and crawling about the joint.
We'll see them (hopefully!) at the lair next week and then see how they do against the K'Morat warriors in the area.
Write up follows:
The party slept well and we awoke the next morning by 7. After going to the Mess hall and breaking our fast, we had the opportunity to talk with Ruhilhd, the fat dwarven head cook for the Base Camp. After figuring out who we were, he promised to have some extra food prepared for us to take on our trip, at least enough for today plus something for an additional day. He even promised Negan a third day just in case since the half-ogre flat out inquired about it.
We readied ourselves for our trip out and by 8:30 or so, the runners for the Randari Rangers had returned to Base Camp and gave the harvesters direction on where to go to get today’s potential crop of Firvin’s Cap (roughly just under 2 hours distance). Thiklish, the Halfling leader of the harvesters, was unsure of taking Barb and wanted to make sure from the Reeve that it was ok since the half-orc barbarian was until recently a member of the rangers. After getting the green light, the entire group of 19; 10 harvesters and 9 members of the party, left the Base Camp amidst many members of the harvesters chatting incessantly about the benefits of Baldur and why he’s most likely the best of all the gods.
Every ¼ mile from camp, we followed whatever directions and blaze markings had been given to us, finding the next member of the Randari Rangers who directed us further which way to go and then headed down the slope of Furtham’s Peak to the Base Camp. Quickly we reached 2, then 3,000 feet in height. The friendly banter had faded as we travelled upslope, west and southwest from Base Camp. The fir trees in the area were still towering at 100’ feet in height but as we climbed in altitude, their majestic heights were shrinking and the number of bushes and smaller hardier growths were increasing.
By 11we had arrived at over 4,500 feet in height and about 2 miles from Base Camp. Hornes and Spunifer were on hand here to meet us, the final members of the Randari Rangers. There were 8 possible Firvin’s Caps to harvest covering an area about 100 yards square. They had seen no sign of any K’Morat so far and wished us well, looking forward to seeing us back in camp later on this afternoon.
Thiklish was thrilled for the possibility of 8 Caps to harvest; it’s been over a week since they had that option and over 40 days since they’ve been able to bring that much in at a single harvesting. They set to immediately, splitting into two groups to work on the 2’+ tall fungi while the party spread out and surrounded the harvesters in the efforts.
Within 45 minutes they had collected their first specimen and a few minutes later were done with the second. They were sealed in clay jars with wax and paper, laid aside and the harvesters hit the next two mushrooms. The group still kept their eyes peeled. At one point a griffin was winging its way overhead searching, and then headed back the way it came. And still we kept eyes peeled.
Third, Fourth, then a break for lunch, then fifth, and finally 6th Firvin’s Cap was harvested. As the groups were hitting the 7th and 8th and the hour was encroaching past three, Negan and Avulstein’s keen eye picked up some movement in some of the underbrush to the south of the group. The necromancer immediately sent Frank, the undead zombie bobcat (can’t make this stuff up!!), to investigate. As it drew closer two javelins hit the undead from the front, stopping it, and then two more hit it from the side, rocking it left and right.
A group of K’Morat Warriors (8? 12?) drew themselves up and seeing the party begin to give chase started fleeing downhill and southwest of the harvesters. Barb, Avulstein, Negan, Darius, and Connal all broke into a run, the rest of the group staying behind the ward the harvesters in case more K’Morat were in the area.
We charged downhill, eating up ground with a loping gait as we chased after the K’Morat warriors, the kobolds yipping, thrashing, and bouncing down slope at breakneck speeds. We charged hard and even though Barb and Connal could have gone faster, they opted to stay with the rest of the group as the kobolds drew further and further ahead, eventually lost from our direct sight in the thick growth of the back side of Furtham’s Peak.
As our breathing getting labored and we had lost sight of our quarry, we slowed down and then came to a stop after 8 minutes of running through thick mountainous terrain. This wasn’t going to work. So we talked about our options and decided to go back to the harvesters for now, and then tomorrow come back to this area (Barb was confident she could get us here) and pick up the trail of the K’Morat early on. We could see down the slope to some mountain lake here that seemed to be where the kobolds were heading. Was as good of a plan as anything else.
It took the group almost a half hour to get back upslope to the harvesters who were finishing up their efforts. No other K’Morat had come by and by 4 we had 8 clay jars, 10 happy harvesters, and 9 party members heading back downslope and this time east northeast to Base Camp far below.
It was pretty quiet for us, with only a pair of giant owls making their presence know (actually dipping down to snag a deer and then take flight again). We arrived at Base Camp at almost 7, the sun was heading down and everyone was pretty worn out. But the Bailiff and Reeve came out along with 30 odd members of the Camp and watched as the two Illytch Alchemists tested each of the 8 jars and their contents…declaring them all prime specimens of Firvin’s Cap. This was a good thing and a big boon – 40 odd days since they’ve been able to bring that much down and without issue.
We rested up after eating, Ruhilhd once again promising us even more prepared food tomorrow now that he knew what was needed. The group got a good night in and we awoke the next morning on Firemonth the 7th ready to head back to the Southwest side of the Peak and track the kobolds.
It was raining. And hard. Visibility was reduced and the cloud cover was at 1,000 feet – meaning getting back to the place Barb had marked was going to be in 10’ visibility and no use to us. Plus, the K’Morat trail through the undergrowth would be muted over the day. We talked about options and decided to head out anyway. There was a ridge line that ran down Furtham’s Peak to the South to the next mountain, and even though the area was shrouded in clouds, Barb felt she could get us to the area of the lake and we could then pick up the trail hopefully of the K’Morat.
We left Base Camp at 8:30, again the same 5 members of the group who gave chase yesterday, while Thalin, Wolfskar, Merica, and Dizzy would go out with the harvesters to ward them. It was slow going and as we climbed higher and higher south and west of the Base Camp, circling the Peak, visibility dropped to 10’ tops and we were soaked through and to the skin. The baladrana’s kept the worst of the rain off but the moisture crept in anyway as we slogged unseeingly uphill.
At some point we crested over the ridge and started heading down. Barb kept turning the group a bit to the right as we travelled, keeping the mountain on our right side up slope as we travelled along. Finally around 11:30 we emerged from the cloud cover and were on the opposite side of Furtham’s Peak – with the mountain lake very visible some 1,000 feet below us through the trees. Good job, Barb.
We slogged down the mountain until we arrived at the foothill. Pushing our way through the increasingly muddy ground we came to the shores of the lake. It was oval in shaped, narrower to the north than the south, perhaps a mile and a third one way by a half mile the other. We wanted to pick up the K’Morat trail so started to walk counterclockwise along the lake where we were on the east side, heading uphill to get out of the mud and have a better view of the land, eyes peeled for the wide swath of flattened brush and disturbed needles we had seen the kobold’s leave as we chased them.
Before 1 we came upon their trail and followed it towards the lake shore again where we noted it ended at the water’s edge. Besides countless kobolds foot prints in the mud, there were also two long deep furrows in the mud, some 10-15’ long and ran straight out of the lake. Canoes? Boats? The K’Morat crossed the lake as opposed to running around it.
We could barely see across the lake in all the rain and decided to circle it and try to pick up the trail on the other side. As we walked we ate from our backs and kept our spirits up as the occasional crack of thunder sounded from the storm overhead. After a bit over a half hour of miserable walking we came to the opposite side of the lake where we saw a two story stone building situated right on the water’s edge, leaning slightly towards the lake itself. Two dugout canoes were here, each one dragged up on the shore some 15’ and left there, more foot prints around them. The trail then continued off to the southwest from here – but less defined and hastily made in appearance.
We decided to check out the building first in case any K’Morat were there. We approached slowly, emerging from the tree line with eyes peeled and weapons out. The building’s chimney had fallen away some time ago, leaving only a discolored section of the outer wall and a hole in the surface. There were no windows on the lower floor, and only a few smaller ones on the 2nd floor, each one was perhaps 1’ x 1’ tops.
At the building we heard nothing inside but wanted to look in. The entire structure was leaning towards the lake at 5 to 10 degree angle, the foundation stones closer to the lake either crumbled away of subsumed in the mud over time. Avulstein’s clawed feet were helpful for the wolverine to climb his way to the 2nd floor and peer in. It was some sort of moldy bedroom with a bed and a chest of drawers. Whatever glass was once in the windows had been busted out years ago. He came back down and let us know what he saw.
We went to the door, weapons ready, and pushed it open. Revealed ruins of a sitting room that took up half the building’s main floor. Moldy remains of a couch, busted table and some chairs, two doorways that lead elsewhere, other brick a brac, and a fire scorched area where the K’Morat most likely sat and kept warm and or ate. We checked it out, some bone fragments; one might even be orcish, everything wat damp and water logged. Two doors led to a room partially filled in the corner with lake water and the other had a fireplace, rotten chairs, and a set of wooden stairs heading up.
Frank was sent to prance in the water, nothing happened – perhaps 7” deep at best. Talk was to look upstairs so Avulstein sent Frank up and halfway up, the zombie bobcat slipped through two busted steps and fell to the floor. Ok, needed light and sure footed. Connal went up, balancing left and right on the stair frame, holding the wall and proceeding as carefully as he could.
On the second floor heard more water falling (drip drip drip), sitting room, two wing backed chairs soaked and puffy, leaning round table between them. Doorway to the right and to the south, no frames, just openings. He looked south, same bedroom Avulstein had seen, mold was partially up the walls. Faint vinegar scent to the air.
Avulstein came up, Negan lifting the wolverine past the broken section of the steps, and then doing the same for Frank the bobcat. Connal did find a number of chess pieces in the sitting room under the table – every white piece from the back row except the queen. He took them, finding no others.
Avulstein sent Frank into the bedroom he had seen and had it approach the bed and then climb on. The mattress was sodden, wet, and shredded under the bobcat’s weight. Within moments a black mass of rotten hay and feathers had soaked the bobcat who came off the mattress and back to Avulstein, the goo just dripping off of it. Gross. He then sent the bobcat into the next room to explore and look around and then return.
When Frank went through the frame, Connal and Avulstein heard a wet splattering sound and then something hit the floor. The necromancer was calling for Frank to return and we heard something dragging its way towards us. Slowly, Frank emerged, ¾ of the zombie was covering a thick olive green slimy mass that was oozing its way up and over his head and two front paws that were still dragging him closer. Avulstein ordered the zombie to stop and the two friends watched in horror as the slime worked up over Frank’s head and face and then his paws, totally covering him. The vinegar scent was frenetic now and within a few minutes tops the slime, no longer having the outline of the bobcat, moved towards the door frame and pulled itself UP, taking almost 5-6 minutes to crawl up the frame and onto the ceiling of the room Frank had died in.
Connal and Avulstein came back downstairs, and the party discussed what the fuck that was and should we stay or go. Darius let us know it took 3 hours to get here and if we wanted to get back to Base Camp, we should be leaving about 3:30 – it was already about quarter to 3. If we stay, do we set up a trap for K’Morat who might come in? Do we try to go upstairs? Not? Are we closer to the K’Morat lair if we stay out here? There was much discussion but the consensus was to stay here for now.
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