By the middle of the month of Octopus (10/17), Tienarth and Ollie had resigned themselves to enter the mists themselves. During the weeks that had led up to this time, Lah had evaluated the jar of mists collected by Ollie. It dissipated immediately after he unscrewed the jar, but Lah could still tell that the mist was both magical and evil to the extreme, a kind of vaporized form of negative energy. The two companions walked up the road to St. Orlan and approached the town from the south. They made their way through the odoriferous district to the temple where they knew the rest of the Raiders were waiting.
After reuniting, the adventures spent an hour exchanging information and making strategy. Tienarth described how he spent many weeks learning the teleport spell and constructing his new wand. It surprised the others to learn that so much time had passed. They could only theorize that the flow of time had been greatly disturbed, as if the space within the mists were an analogue to the realm of Haderax.
Flower Vendor
The invitation for dinner was still hours away. They heard the bells toll just once. With the extra time to spend, they headed for the south gate to investigate the ebon spire in the center of town, a newly-erected monument where Mayor Bremlai’s estate once stood. Before they reached the gates, they responded to the calls of an elderly flower vendor.
They approached a tiny stand tucked near the alley, where an elderly woman attempted to sell wilted, fog-dampened wildflowers. With some signs of recognition, her eyes flick nervously toward the dark peak of the Ebon Spire.
“My heart is truly broken to see that black thing looming where the sole patch of beauty in this whole stretch of land did rest,” she murmured, gently clutching a few white lilies. “I used to walk the pathway to gather posies every day from the modest garden surrounding the mayor’s old home. ‘Twas not grand, but smack in the middle stood that old silver-leaf stump—a true monument, mind you, to the World Tree, that original faith of the Elves. They held that tree was ancient, its wood like silver and hard as iron. When our new city lord began that black fortress, they tore out every living thing. Now darkness sprouts right up from the very spot where the silver oak had been planted.”
Aderian paid her a gold piece for her entire inventory, and she was glad for it.
As the party passed through the south gate, the two golems there gave them no notice. In fact, the golems moved not an inch. A few other humans moved in and out of the gate with the pitiful manner of rats, scurrying under the threat of a hungry feline that might pounce at any moment.
Ebon Spire
The party walked to Ebon Spire and looked through the archway into a courtyard. The heavy, unnatural mist of St. Orlan swirled around them, muffling the sounds of boots on the cobblestones in the city’s heart. Dominating the fog-shrouded area, rose the Ebon Spire, a dreadful tower and black fortress. It was built from rough black basalt, rising ominously, its gothic walls decorated with pointed arches and gargoyle sentinels. Etched into the walls were protective runes that pulse with a faint green light.
The atmosphere around the compound wrapped about them like grim fist on the hilt of a vorpal blade. As they stepped to the threshold of the archway, they passed through a curtain of acrid scent that intensified with each step. Across the expanse they spied two massive, iron doors at the foot of the tower. Lurking in the mist-shrouded shadows, visible between the shifting tendrils of fog, two massive forms stirred lazily, dragon-like beasts, their great scales dulled to a sickly jade color. They fixed a chilling gaze upon the party but took no outwardly aggressive action.
Ollie noted that these dragons were duller of color and smaller than the ancient wurm they faced back on Green Dragon Island. Still, the consensus was that a frontal assault on the tower was wholly out of the question.
Urchin
With still much time before the six o’clock hour, they headed for the north gate. Along the way, they encountered a boy, darting between shadows to avoid the thick fog, who bumped into Ollie. He quickly tried to scramble away, looking terrified. A few words of ire were tempered by kind words of care for th child, and offered a word of advice, unbidden, rapidly and breathlessly:
“Y’all best stay clear of that big ol’ black place! That there thing looks like a plumb devilish spike reaching for the sky! My granny learnt me that place is cursed, long afore that spooky feller, Ithusar, moved his hide in.”
He went on.
“She recollects goin’ there years ago, back when it was still that nice shack with the little wall and the courtyard. It wasn’t no regular patch of weeds, though; they called it the ‘Weeping Garden’ ’cause of the tales they told. They kept that massive dead tree right smack in the middle—the silver oak stump. Now the Elves, them pointy-eared folk like you there,” he pointed at Tienarth, “they set a lot of store by them silver-leafed oaks, seeing as how they buried their dead near ’em in the catacombs round Toe-Sauce.” He pronounced the name in the way some elves found disrespectful, though the boy was merely ignorant. “But that tower lord he tore down the mayor’s mansion and his garden just to build that scary Ebon Spire right where it stood.”
When pressed further, he said, “I been right up next to it, and if you press your ear right close to those new black basalt walls, you might could hear old, dried-up screaming comin’ from way down in the dark pits. Might be them forgotten secrets Elab Jarr went huntin’ for down in the ground, or just the sounds of the bad things they keep buried deep.”
The boy’s name was Guddar, and he lived in the river district with his family. Like most of the residents, they were starving, always looking for more food. Ollie suggested sharing some of their rations with the family. No doubt, the dwarf was looking to extract some valuable information.
Vampire Spawn
The boy led them through the winding alleyways until they were stopped by a gaunt figure who demanded some sort of tribute from the youth. Guddar cowered behind Ollie. Aderian, recognizing the figure as some sort of vampire, produced a Bone of St. Jaludi, but Ghevnot raised his arm to prevent an immediate attack. “You want the boy? Here, have him!” announced Ghevont, who grabbed the boy by the collar, offering him to the vampire. As the distance between them closed, Ghevont revealed the Cube of Force, pressing the most powerful face. Suddenly, a box of energy went up that encompassed himself, Ollie, the boy, Aderian and the vampire.
Simultaneously, all weapons within side began to glow red. Ollie noted the effect was visual only. He felt no heat from the blade Morto-im-Morto. He did feel an emotional tug and soon found the blade out of its scabbard and pointed at the back of the vampire.
Ghevont invoked a spell of protection from evil on Aderian, but as he did, the waves of magic the encircled the former pirate spread outward to form a rift in space. It tore open to usher in a strange creature from another realm, a squid-like monster that stood upright on four of its tentacles. The other limbs reached out to embrace Aderian, stopping short of actually touching him. The protection spell was proof against the summoned being.
Meanwhile, the vampire spawn clawed at Ghevont. Ollie replied by crushing a vial of holy water against the monster’s head, following up with a thrust of the short blade in its back. Green blood flowed down into a pool. The body crumpled at Ghevont’s feet. Aderian swung his sword called Hestrin’s Chisel. It sliced the flabby flesh of the squid horror, releasing it’s alien soul to the ether.
Ghevont deactivated the cube. Ollie swiftly sharpened the end of a torch and drove it into the heart of the vampire spawn. Nate directed them to drag the body into the rushing waters of the Belianassa. It was utterly destroyed. They were about to toss the squid horror in as well, but several witnesses cried out to preserve it. Strange creatures had been a welcome source of food for the people of St. Orlan during the time of the fog.
Back at Guddar’s home, his father told an interesting story. “It ain’t just river weed this time, by God. Look at this,” he muttered, pulling at a foul clump of dark, filthy material woven right into his trawl. “It’s foul linen, thick and old. Seems like grave shrouds or wrappings, if you ask me. I hauled a couple more o’ these prizes this mornin’, right near the outflow down by the old wharf. They reek of dry rot and dust. What galls me, see, is they ain’t floating out from the city; they look to be dragged straight out o’ the river bank itself, close to a low inlet that generally runs clear.”
Dinner with Ithusar
This information tugged at their desire to explore, but by the toll of the bells, they knew it was time to attend to dinner, so they made their way back to the Ebon Spire. As they approached the entrance, the two massive iron doors swung silently inward before they got within ten feet. Standing revealed in the aperture was a massive construct of reanimated flesh, easily identified as a flesh golem. The creature performed a heavy, stiff bow, its movements sluggish and unnatural. It then gestured with a huge, stitched hand, motioning them to step across the threshold.
Their guide lumbered ahead, leading the party through a passage that opened shortly into a vast inner chamber: the Spire’s grand hall. The atmosphere inside, while heavy, lacked the immediate dread of the outside courtyard. A pervasive light shined down from many candelabras hanging from chains on which stout candles burned with pale, green flames.
The grand hall was arranged for a formal occasion. A long table sat at the center, formally set, suggesting finery and decadence. Gleaming silver utensils mark each place, and comfortable chairs awaited them. The golem halted, indicating this wass the place of reception. Presently, a thick cloud of mist coalesced at the head of the table. Before them was Ithusar whose elven features were accentuated by an additional gauntness. His eyes were bottomless pits of black. He unclasped his flowing black cloak to reveal a smart suit of fine leather, stained a dark red, almost black, highlighted with embroidered elven runes.
Ithusar bid them to sit and eat. The dinner table was laid out with an ostentatious display of hospitality, countering a feeling of underlying menace. Crystal goblets and silver dishes were filled with what appeared to be choice foods: viands of various kinds of choicest sort and savour, exotic fruits unfamiliar to the wanderers, and rich meat pasty.
Their host offered wine, which Aderian gulped down without thought. Ghevont refuses food, drink or even to sit. Noting the distrustr, Ithusar sampled the wine himself to prove it was not poisoned. “This light crimson wine is some of the last of the finest available in Tosasth”, he said as he poured. Ghevont attempted to further a combative stance in his conversation. Ithusar turned away to address the elf wizard.
“Hail Tienarth! The deeds of you and your followers are well told in these halls. I am honored by your presence. We have met but perhaps did not properly introduce ourselves. I am Lord Ithusar. I beg you to relax, join me in refreshment and let us talk strategy”.
The vampire explained that he came to save the city from Bremlai’s mischief that peaked with the opening of an ancient elf tomb. About Bremlai, the vampire was particularly enthusiastic in his disdain. He called the former mayor a miscreant who brought doom on the town by awaking a powerful evil beneath its streets. He called this place the Cryptward, a vast tomb for the elves of the Tosasth era, now filled with roaming mummified priests bent on dominating the human population.
The entrance to the Cryptward was in the lower level of the Ebon Spire itself, but it was now sealed and guarded on each side: mummies on the inside and Ithusar’s minions on the outside. Deep in the Cryptward, the mummies were performing blasphemous rituals in honor of Molok. Ithusar declared himself a follower Haderax, and he admitted his vampiric condition was a curse made by Talanashta who also crucified him. He hoped to reverse the curse based on information hidden in the Cryptward, perhaps by destroying the profane shrine guarded by the mummies. He seemed convinced that only a devout follower of the Anointed One might affect the shrine.
Lines of comparison were drawn with Imra Herel, that blank knight encountered in ruined Tosasath. Ithusar noted the admirable honor shown by Herel in live and in undeath, but also lamented his alignment with Molok and his practice of keeping ghouls as slaves. Tienarth also remembered Jonamor Nelaser, a wayward elf mummy who sought to reverse his own transformation into undead abomination.
Ithusar offered to let them talk to Bremlai who was kept in a dungeon cell. Ghevont seemed interested but Ollie was eager to get moving on a search for another entrance to the Cryptward. The vampire was sure there must be another entrance to the tomb because mummies were seen at times in the streets, lurking and taking victims. Disturbingly, some humans gave themselves willingly to the linen-wrapped horrors, perhaps by some misguided aim for protection.
Sewer Entrance
So it was that they concluded their meal and returned to the River District to walk the banks the Belinassa River. After some time, they detected a difference. The air was thick with the heavy, familiar scent of the river’s damp musk, yet overlaid with something far more unnatural: a sulfurous odor and the dry, medicinal stench of decay. Closer inspection revealed a small, crudely shored-up opening just above the waterline. The ground nearby was soft and muddy, and they saw long, distinct drag marks leading from the opening down into the dark river water, as if heavy objects had been repeatedly pulled in or out of the passage.
The entrance was a crumbling pipe five feet across. It was comfortable for Ollie who went in first. The rest of them crouched over the odorous sludge trickling along the bottom of the outlet. After some time in this awkward procession, Ollie saw four dim points of green light. He stopped to watch as they came closer and in the light of a glowing stone held by Ghevont, they were seen to be mummified humans in fresh linen wrappings. They snarled and slowly approached.
Aderian produced his bone of St. Jaludi, begged Ollie to duck and hurled the bone. The form of the holy saint appeared as it closed the short distance between him and the monsters. It struck the lead mummy in the chest with a woeful thunk, but the mummy did not real back from any kind of holy turning. Each party was stacked up two single files and came together with Ollie facing a mummy. There was little room for Aderian, who stood directly behind Ollie, to offer any offensive aid.
Ollie struggled with the first mummy and slew it. The second mummy stepped up to do battle and managed to pull a gash across the dwarf’s face. The wound instantly turned black, and they were sure Ollie had developed mummy rot. This condition would prevent healing, magical or natural, until the disease was cured. Either reluctant or unprepared, Ghevont did not cure the disease right away. Instead, they all pushed on until Ollied found a small, stone tablet in the mud.
The seemingly discarded tablet was cracked down the middle, but on it’s four-inch surface a few elven runes could still be read by those with appropriate knowledge, in this case Tienarth. He said the runes meant “Elwimroth sacrificed”, and that surrounding the name, deeper diacritical marks indicated a holy rite, suggesting ill intent was averted. Ollie, ever the pack rat, stuffed the tablet in his pack.
Moving further, they reached a chamber cubical in shape with sides 20 feet across. In the ceiling was a one-foot pipe, and they gave wide berth. Across from the entrance was a ledge ten feet above. As they moved across the sodden floor, a gush of effluence tumbled from the ceiling hole. Now it was certainly identified as a sewer outlet.
End Notes
- Days
- 10/17 Tienarth and Ollie enter the mists surrounding St. Orlan.
- Treasure: none
- Combat: 885 xp
- Vampire Spawn 280 xp
- Squid Horror 145 xp
- 2 Mummies 450 xp each
- Characters (5 shares of 177 xp)
- Aderian 177 xp
- Ghevont 177 xp
- Nate 177 xp
- Ollie 177 xp
- Tienarth 177 xp