Saturday, June 18, 2022

Session 7

After the hiatus, the players and I conferred and I rolled some dice. The following is true:
Party:
The Plumage of Spring (Sorcerer 1)
The Meek Sun (Thief 1)
The Eyes of True Men (Fighting-man 1)
Slough (Halfling 1) [Retainer]
The Last Walker (Fighting-man 1) [Retainer]


Consciousness found the party not alone but much crowded. Their limbs were not bound, nor throats cut. In the overpowering dark they scrambled and found that their weapons had been appropriated.

Worse, they found that other bodies took up space in the dark cell. By touch and whisper the party found each other and gathered at one wall. The Eyes, brave and bearing few wounds, called out and demanded those strangers identify themselves and that lightless place.

A grim laugh came out of the dark. The strangers were, in their words, chaff discarded. They were veterans all. And who were these new intruders? The party looked sightlessly at one another, for the band had no name, and said so. Plumage of Spring sought diplomacy, and explained how the enchanters had inflicted sleep on them. The veterans knew this, and said they had been told to slay all of the party bare-handed.

Why? To test loyalty—but the veterans had themselves been tricked into the sealed room. In the dark the party tensed and expected death. But there was only silence and distance between the two groups. The veterans called out and guessed the party numbered few—The Eyes countered that, were the party to kill before being killed, each and every one of the veterans would be slain.

Plumage shushed him, again tried for peace. If both groups were unarmed and betrayed, why not work together to escape before food, air, and life were gone?

These arguments kept the veterans from attacking. Clever Meek Sun, cunning in the ways of deception, whispered that the party should brush their bags and furs and gear upon the floor to make noise as of a large group. They did so.

She also asked where the door was, and was told there was no door, but a wall that allowed passage in but not out.

Faced with such sorcery, everyone put their heads together. Slough and Meek Sun tried for hidden locks on the wall, The Eyes tried forcing it by strength, Plumage of Spring tried study and intuition in the dark—all for nothing. Time crept on, the dark and the heat grew oppressive. And by the senses did a secret come to The Meek Sun: the sorcerous wall let in a hint of fresher air. She demanded the lighter-device and saw that it’s little flame was touched by a breeze.

A plan was hatched immediately: one of them would drink the mist-shape potion, pass through the wall, and flee to the surface to bring help. Or be enslaved or killed outright, was the counter.

So a new plan was hatched: the veterans would say the party murdered, then all would fall upon those enchanters in ambush. Even unarmed, their numbers would be overwhelming.

It was done, and all gathered with fists raised. The veteran leader called on the enchanters, said that the interlopers were dead with broken necks and the band’s loyalty to the Old Ones proven.

There was a moment of silence, and some thought in the dark that all had been left to die. But sure enough, that sorcerous wall slid aside near-silently, and the Green enchanters strode in with praise on their lips.

In that unearthly Jale light the ambush was struck, and all three enchanters were stomped into the flagstones. The sorcerous dagger-bracelet was used with skill, and the aftermath found the party facing eight figures in acid-etched helmets and breastplates. Meek Sun took to searching the corpses but was stopped.

“But we helped your escape!” Was the protest.

“You did, interloper. We will say we never saw any of you. Now leave, and never return.”

And worse, just looking proved those enchanters did not carry any of the party’s weapons—neither flint dagger nor the moonlight-pale blade Plumage of Spring had carried. She grew agitated. They all did. The veterans stripped the bodies and left but one of the glowing Jale rods, and again warned the party to never return before marching south and out of sight.

Fear and resentment swirled. The Plumage of Spring was very distraught with the loss of her sword, and insisted on getting it back at all costs. A search of the sealed room shewed that it had no weapons and only shattered furniture (a rough club was recovered) and that the south wall depicted vile acts and the north looming gods from space over a planet’s horizon.

Eyes turned to the sorcerous metal wall, and the thought was to rip it out of its track and profit a little from this venture. With tool and tensed muscle they took to the job, and after much scraping and grunting they found the thing fixed well and monstrously heavy besides. It might have taken half a hundred strong backs to carry the thing, or a hundred weak ones.

Disgusted, demoralized, and disarmed the party knew at least the bodies would buy passage out of the dungeon. They hoisted the corpses and trudged back through those vaults flanked by horrific statue.

The stinking mutants gladly accepted the offerings, and fell upon the fresher meat. The party decided to keep one of the bodies, and with eyes on the back of their heads beat a retreat towards the surface. Daylight found them, the afternoon alive with insects and the slithering of worms and the sound of wind across the treetops.

They spat at the place and left promptly. In the watery swamp depths a canoe came upon them, and a pair of Red men trailing nets and spears regarded them evenly. On a hunting trip, the pair would not sell their weapons or food. Mutual fuck-yous were exchanged.

The settlement found them exhausted, and with no coin for lodging they asked of the barkeep some sympathy, for hadn’t they been generous in their carousing? She said as long as they toted a corpse but no cash, they were out. There was much cursing under the breath and promising of vengeance.

Their second stop was the tower of judgement, and they knocked the ladder and asked for audience with the bailiff/executioner, thinking him amenable.

When he met them in that common square the night had grown deep. They dumped the enchanter at his feet and asked to be paid a bounty for their service in clearing out the dungeon. He said there were no bounties, and more how they could have just knifed a wanderer out in the swamp

But he saw how the bloodlust ran red in every face, and was amenable to keep the peace. He could not pay bounty as per the sentiment of the Judge, but the party could profit in other ways: honest labor In the fields(this got only glares and spit), or games of chance.

This was more the party’s style, and all met up in the drinking pit to throw dice. The Eyes of True Men, Slough, and Plumage of Spring invested debt while Last Walker looked on serenely and Meek Sun thought of smuggling.

The bailiff won once, then Plumage. A second game was near, where The Eyes had to roll a two or concede a hair-thin loss—he snorted, threw the dice, and won! Slough held his head in his hands frequently, for his rolls were low and his luck soured that night.

In the end it was the cautious playing of Plumage that won out. She said to take from her winnings to cover Slough’s debt, and even then the bailiff stacked thirty coins on the table; his eyes seemed to smile behind his black hood, and he bid them to tell him about the hill’s dungeon over a bowl of whiskey and sweet water.

They talked late into the night, of the revelation of something terrible deep beneath the earth—a fane of the Old Ones, full of cultists and mutants. The glowing Jale rod was displayed and lit up the drinking-pit as proof of their delve. Drunk, vengeful, and trusting the bailiff most of the party demanded the place be razed.

Slough, however, refrained from drink. He watched the bailiff’s word and deed, and slipped out in the night to rest among his fellow mutants. Meek Sun, too, had left in the night; she marked in robber code her offer to the smuggler.

Come the next day they gathered arms and victuals and marched south again at first light. Plumage of Spring was eager to recover her blade, and The Eyes was confident another way down to that dream-seen temple of bubbling flesh was possible.

Once more they crested the hill and descended the access rope, and headed south out of the carven vaults into the rough tunnels and warrens to the south. Single-file they marched in, when the edge of their light revealed a corpse slumped face-down the stone. It had been drained leather-dry, empty of all blood, and none of the equipment scattered about had not been taken.

They took of its belongings and hoped the same fate would not befall them and descended hand-carved steps.

The mushroom-choked tunnels below were even more narrow. One by one they headed west past their previous loot and into caverns yet unseen. Slough, bringing up the rear, heard scrabbling from behind and yelped that a half-dozen mutants of clay-daubed and stunted aspect watched with glittering eyes. Even a hurled stone only scattered the mutants’ ranks for a moment, and they kept watching but not engaging.

There was confusion and raised blades and spitting but the party marched on. Into a larger cavern, ancient roots trailing from the ceiling and bones scattered underfoot. A statue in contemplative posture stood askew in the earth. Meek Sun knew of the tendency for statues to have gemstones eyes, and in greed disturbed a particularly old fragment of skull among the bones.

From the dark came a horrific echo of life! A half-formed thing like a skeleton shrouded in mist ran shrieking at Meek Sun, claws raised in bloodlust! It passed straight through her, and thrown blades passed straight through it! But the thief was unaffected, and come its second rush the party started to laugh—the horror could not touch them!

Plumage of Spring saw that the old skull piece among the other bones was its treasure, and placed it aside. But the screaming resonated through that dungeon dark, and the party felt that time was turning against them. While some rifled among the bones, others checked how another set of stairs led down into deeper warrens. They let a mark in chalk and returned to the statue for one last search. Knowing how some statues could call searing beams of light, they prepared mirror and grappling hook and pry bar.

The truth was mundane: the statue ground to life to squeeze the life from our thief with stone hands! Last Walker and The Eyes each engaged to wrestle with the strength of a stony arm, and Meek Sun went for the eyes. She ripped the glittering treasures out and leapt free—but a sudden flick of a stony fist and Last Walker was struck in the head!

He fell and was dragged away, was slapped to consciousness and told to stand beside the sorcerer and hold off from dying. The party pushed past those keen-eyed but passive mutants, and for some reason Plumage of Spring decided to take the haunted skull fragment.

The shrieks of the restless horror must have warned away the dungeon denizens, for the party met none on their march out and up. Nor on the track back to the settlement.

But when they returned, the bailiff had been waiting for them in the common square.

Kills 3 enchanters (60xp)

Gains 2x gems 50gp, 3x gems 100gp

Book of The Dead
Boss - Abandoned in a temple
The Lurking Minion - Sacrificed for power
The Quiet Breath - Struck down by a ghoul
Rattlebones  - Killed by a vengeful acolyte

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