The session picked up with five hours to go before the time arranged for a dual assault on the Cryptward by Tienarth’s Raiders and the followers of Ithusar, the Crucified Vampire. The group made their way from having met with Lara, leader of the werewolf faction when they were hailed by Grod the Trapper, a ragged, dark-haired man who sloshed around the corner of a ruined tenement. He moved slowly, dragging a coarse sack that bumped wetly against the uneven flagstones, leaving a dark trail in the filth.
Stopping, he brought forth four thick, wet beaver carcasses from the sack and held them up as he spoke. “Hail, honored ones! Word spreads quickly, even through the mist, that the Raiders are back. And that the Temple of St. Orlan holds a sanctuary now—a place of safety for the weaklings,. They say it’s untouched by the chilling evil.”
He gestured vaguely toward the swamp across the Beleniasa River. “These fat ones came easy today. The folk sheltering in the temple, they need sustenance. If you’re truly holding that ground, deliver it to them. It’s poor tribute, but honest meat for those who starve here in the fog-cursed city.”
There was some hesitance to accept the gift, with some wondering aloud whether the meat was poisoned. Ollie guessed it wasn’t, and Jerker reminded them that the devotees sheltering in the temple had been without food for at least a day. Aderian took them. As he left, Grod remarked, “They whisper that some ancient power shields that ground, keeping the walking dead at bay. You’d do well to guard that threshold closely, for others hunger for what you hold, meat and magic both.” The then drifted back into the shadow-filled mists.
The Mummies’ Fanatic
A short while later, they reached the steps of the Temple of St. Orlan. Standing on the consecrated stone landing, waiting for them, were two figures who struck a stark contrast: The first was a cleric of the Anointed One, dressed in simple robes. Ghevont and Nate recognized him as Father Anuak. He appeared composed yet troubled. The other figure was a pale woman in tattered cult robes, clutching a silver censer. An unmistakable branded ankh tattoo marked her cheek, confirming her service to Kheset. Her eyes burned with fanatical zeal. Elaria recognizes her as one she saw in the crystal ball and muttered as much to the others.
Father Anauk stepped forward, inclining his head slightly. “Welcome back, Raiders. You return with Grod’s charity—a welcome sight. But time runs shorter than you know, and the choices ahead are terrible. This poor woman, Mara, came to these very steps, drawn by the sanctuary of this place. She brings fragments of terrible knowledge you are wise to heed.”
He gestures to Mara, who shifts the silver censer, emitting a faint, metallic sound, then continued, “I had almost chased her off, for the smell of Molok’s work lingers upon her, but she carried these stones. They are etched with the inscrutible tongue of the ancient Elves, the language of the tomb lords beneath us. I cannot discern their precise meaning, but they scream of urgency and consequence.”
The mummy cultist offered the two fragments of stone. They were irregular and flat. Ollie took them, intending to give them to Tienarth who surely could decipher them. The old elf still remained inside the temple.
Sister Mara spoke, her voice dry and low, ignoring Anauk and addressing the Raiders directly. “You consort with the Crucified Vampire, Ithusar. His smooth talk is poison. Your agreement to open the Sealed Gate for him is damnation, not salvation. The mummies know your movements; they watch your foolish alliances. Read these truths and turn your path, for the Cryptward seeks only balance and order, not the chaos that Molok’s vampire breeds. There is only one path to salvation, and it begins with destroying the source of the False Dawn.” She pointed vaguely toward the center of the city. “The masters debate your immediate betrayal now. We offer debate, he offers oblivion. Come to that ancient arena on the hill in two hours. Come alone, without that wretched brute, Amalgus, and without your dragon tricks. If you do not arrive, we assume you chose the viper’s path.”
Concluding her statement, Mara turned sharply, clutched her censer, and quickly disappeared into the swirling mist.
Inside the temple, Tienarth took the tablets and began studying them. The rest of them were impatient for a translation, but the old wizard paid them little mind as he slowly decoded the ancient script. The beavers were taken to the kitchen to be dressed. The various followers rescued from the homestead a few days before were grateful for a meal. Presently, Tienarth recited the text on the tablets.
The Sealing of Gate Six
The Green Fire flared where shadows held their sway,
The Maw of Haderax did yawn for chaos wide,
Though Molok danced and crowned the wicked day,
The Final Barrier stood, where purity defied.One soul, pristine, resigned the mortal sphere,
A sacred oath against the tide of years,
The Jade-Hued Lock now sleeps, dispelling fear.If False Hand comes, the stone remains unkind,
But wake it with a heart both pure and true,
The Dragon’s Bride shall leave the dust behind.
Elixidor’s Ritual
The glowing orb must drink the wicked breath,
Upon the altar stone, consecrated to death.
Collect the essence, blood and iron mixed,
Six times must the chanting tongue be fixed.
Invoke the Horned One’s dread desire,
And feed the furnace with chaotic fire.
Seven shadows must eclipse the sun,
That Molok’s pestilence may thus be spun.
These being relics, they communicated a history about the chamber seen in Ghevont’s dreams and by Elaria in the crystal ball. The group spent two hours discussing the meaning of the ancient text as well as planning a next move.
Nate figured that there is some chamber or gateway that can only be used by the pure of heart, and Ithusar may be seeking to trick them into gaining access for himself. The vampire, he guessed, could not open the gate himself and his every word was deception.
Ollie argued for manipulating the monstrous factions into fighting each other, but he feared accepting the meeting with mummies because they would make fresh demands.
Tienarth likened the visions of the statue in the marble gateway to the portal sealed by the sacrifice of Rellora the Elven Cleric in the cathedral of Tosasth. Along these lines, Nate wondered if the gate below St. Orlan was protecting the city in a similar way.
They reasoned out the situation with Ithusar’s Ebon Spire offering a passage into the Cryptward that was guarded by a Sunfire Elemental. Being made of sunlight, it may be invincible versus vampires, which is why Ithusar wanted them to destroy it. Yet, the elemental could also prove to be a power opponent to the Raiders themselves. Aderian remembered he held a scroll of protection against elementals which would hold such a creature at bay. They ought to feel safe for some time.
He then made the conclusion, which all agreed as sound, that the elemental unleashed into the Ebon Spire would do great mischief against the vampire and his spawn. They could let it out to clear out the spire. This also convinced the group to accept the meeting with the mummies, since they intended an uneasy cooperation with respect to the elemental.
Tienarth, for his part, refused to the leave the temple. He did not offer much explanation beyond that he’d made the decision the day before and had no reason to revise his plans. Ghevont remained in the temple, intending to rest and produce more food for those sheltering inside. Jerker and Elaria also stayed to guard the temple, for it was not known how secure it might be from assault.
Meeting at the Arena
With only three hours before the planned assault, they found themselves in audience with Lord Vethos, a mummy, and two attendants of vague identity. In the area, standing precisely at the center, equidistant from the shadows, was a lone figure. He was draped in fine, stained linen, bearing the marks of Elven nobility. Two shimmering, black forms drifted silently behind him, too indistinct to be clearly defined.
He raised a hand, his voicea dry, whispering hiss, that nevertheless carried across the dismal square. “You kept your word, Humans. A rare virtue among the chaotic progeny who squat upon the consecrated stones of Tosasth’s domain. I am Lord Vethos, Sentinel of the Silent Chroniclers, and I speak on behalf of Kheset, the Eternal Vizier of this Necropolis. Your short-sighted alliance with Ithusar, the Crucified Vampire, imperils the living and desecrates the sacrifices made for order.”
He gestured contemptuously toward the three of them (Nate, Ollie and Aderian). “The scrawled warnings left for your feeble inspection confirm our immutable truth: The Sealed Gate must remain inviolate, protected by that maiden’s soul. It is the cage that holds the True Ruin. Yet, your minds swim in the filth of easy gold and foolish promises, ignoring the clear mandate of your own survival.”
The mummy lord paused for a moment, shifting slightly, which allowed faint light to catch the edges of the linen wrapping that covered him, then delivered a demand, exactly as Ollie feared. “Destroy the Arcane Core. That burning stone shields the surface abominations—the dragons and the vampire—from the sun’s righteous judgment. Do this, and perhaps the Elven Lords may grant you quick oblivion rather than slow torment. Hesitate, continue your barbarian planning, or approach the Sealed Gate, and we shall guarantee the final outcome will favor not you, but the eternal rule of the Cryptward.”
After a short dialog, Aderian offered the plan to left the Sunfire Elemental loose on the vampires. Vethos agreed to this plan and said he only needed a short time to relay this plan to Kheset. By this time, it was clear to them that the Arcane Stone was the source of the suffocating mist surrounding St. Orlan, that it was the protection allowing the undead to rule over the city with impunity. But it was also the tool used by Amalgus to construct his gruesome kin. Would the destruction of the stone also silence those fleshy constructs, or would it merely prevent creation of more? Nate was not in favor of destroying the stone directly because it might shift the balance of power fully to to the mummies.
Looting While Vampires Burn
Once a robber of graves, always a robber of graves, it seems. These same three Raiders soon met Ithusar at the door of the Ebon Spire. The two dragons still slumbered in the courtyard. The gargoyles still leered down from high perches. Ithusar, dressed elegantly, maintained his welcoming demeanor from the previous dinner, though his eyes lingered slightly longer on Nate.
“Welcome, gentlemen. You are punctual, a virtue Bremlai fatally ignored. I trust the disposition of the former Mayor pleased your sense of barbarian justice, proving you are indeed superior to that chaotic stain upon this city. The time is upon us, and the elements favor haste. The sheer arrogance of Kheset is staggering; he believes his Sunfire Guardian makes the Cryptward impregnable. You will prove him wrong!”
“The passage to the Cryptward is open. Regarding our coordinated strike: My thralls have already deployed towards the River District. The sewer line is flowing, yes, but passable for my most determined hunters. They shall strike the Cryptward’s rear guard precisely as planned, forcing Kheset to divert his resources and attention from your critical ingress. Deal with the guardian, secure the deeper levels, and we shall conclude this unsavory conflict quickly.”
He led them to the lower level, handing a key to Ollie. A few glimpses of light escaped from far beyond an iron gate atop a stair. The Sunfire Elemental was down there. Ithusar gave his farewell and wishes for good fortune, then left. Ollie turned the large key, unlocking the gate. The three of them descended, turned a corner and found themselves in a brilliantly lit chamber. The Sunfire Elemental was a raging ball of sunfire, impossible to gaze upon except through squinting eyes. Beyond it was the figure of a mummy who approached and introduced himself as Krusipher. He knew of the plan and was ready to unleash the elemental under his control.
The mummy followed the elemental upwards. They waited for the sound of battle that soon came echoing down to the dungeon, then raced up to witness the battle. The elemental let loose a blast of pure sunfire that incinerated a vampire spawn. But they found no advantage in joining this battle. Instead, they retreated back down, in hopes of meeting Kheset, or at least finding the chamber with the gateway that glowed with green fire.
From the initial chamber, they moved northward, down two sets of stairs until they came to an elven grave of gray stones. Sorely tempted, they resisted the temptation to desecrate it, robbing it of its treasure. They moved onward to another chamber that held two zombie minotaurs on long chains that prevented them from leaving the room. Aderian hurled the bone of St. Jaludi at one of the monsters, striking it soundly. The figure of the saint appeared, and surely a zombie minotaur was no match for such a great patron of the church, but the zombie was unaffected. Then, the minotaurs advanced, blocking entrance into the room.
A short battle ended with the zombies destroyed. Aderian retrieved the bone. By this time, it was clear that the three of them had returned to familiar patterns of tomb raiding. Presently, they came to a chamber of remarkable cold. From the ceiling dripped fetid sewage in long, brown icicles. Below sat a chest half submerged in a pool of sewage. The sewage ran out of the room down a passage.
Aderian affixed a grappling hook to the end of one of the chains that formerly confined the minotaurs. His intelligent pouch, formerly the mage Irenduel, encouraged his lust for whatever treasure the chest held, though this was hardly necessary. The chest was dragged out of pool with little trouble. It was opened with some caution, using a spear. Inside, they found 1200 pieces of gold and a scroll of protection from undead. Aderian put the coins in to the pouch.
Unwilling to cross the pool of sewage, they turned to look for another way forward. They surprised three ghouls dining on body parts, destroying them with ease. Then they came to a chamber where four mummies knelt before a black, basalt altar. Aderian tried the bone of St. Jaludi again. Once again, the bone was ineffective. The four mummies crowded Aderian, pummeling him with blows. One managed to draw blood, which assured him that he’d contract the dreaded mummy rot.
But four mummies were no match for three strong warriors, and none of the three suffered any more wounds. Ollie poured holy water over the altar, and moan was heard in the crypt. Ollie and Nate still seemed enthusiastic to find more treasure, perhaps caught up in the thrill of adventure and not even considering the greater events. Nate expressed some concern, but they moved deeper.
Possession and Polymorphism
Ollie stood at the edge of a chamber where five shelves of books covered one wall. Another passage led out of this room to the north. He seemed to hear soft, insane whispering. As best his mind could comprehend, they were coordinates endlessly rattling off. Ollie had no desire to investigate, but he really wanted to cross the room and find out what was beyond. He and Aderian decided to dash across the room. Nate stayed back during their attempt, anticipating a trap that he hoped to avoid.
As they entered the room, a burst of energy shot at Aderian, entering his body. He stood stiff, then laughed, saying, “Finally, I have a body again!” This seemed to be the possession of a ghost. Ollie’s instinct was to run, expecting the ghost-controlled Aderian to follow. As the pair approached Nate, the paladin cast a Hold Person spell on Aderian, reasoning that if held, they could manage to get him back to Ghevont to remedy the situation. Unfortunately, Aderian resisted this spell. Even more unfortunately, the spell triggered a surge. Where once was a human paladin was now a savage leopard.
Ollie continued his hasty retreat, followed by Aderian and Nate in leopard form. The dwarf easily remembered the various twists and turns, such that they emerged from the Cryptward without wasting time in unrecognized chambers. He was face to face with the mummified mage. The elemental was gone but no allies of Ithusar remained either. Ollie did not intend to pause for any greetings, fearing the mummy might attack. Instead, he demanded an explanation. The ghost-controlled Aderian greeting Krusipher by name, expressing glee at having taken a new host. Ollie said something about Nate being polymorphed.
Meanwhile, the leopard attacked the dwarf. Ollie threw down his backpack and began grasping for food in its vast inner space. The leopard clawed at him, producing minor cuts. Krusipher recognized the spirit that possessed Aderian, and guessed that he might reverse Nate’s condition. He mused aloud, “I suppose it is only just that I solve this for you given your cooperation with our cause. Allow me to dispel this enchantment.” Ollie offered the leopard his rations and the leopard was placated for the moment.
As the mummy wizard spoke the words of the spell, Nate felt himself return to his usual form, still nibbling on Ollie’s lunch. Simultaneously, a circle of fire leapt up around the mummy, another magical surge. An ordinary, living magic user might not have perished, but the mummy found himself particularly susceptible to the magical fire and was consumed instantly. No time was wasted on analyzing the situation because Aderian’s condition seemed dire. Ollie started up the chase again, dashing out of the spire. The dragons were gone, but he took no notice as headed back to the odoriferous district where the Temple of St. Orlan stood.
End Notes
- Days
- 9/6 Remaining hours in St. Orlan
- Treasure:
- 1,200 gp
- Scroll of Protection from Undead
- Combat: 3100 xp
- 2 Zombie Minotaurs 500 xp each
- 3 Ghouls 100 xp each
- 4 Mummies 450 xp each
- Characters (3 shares of 1033 xp)
- Aderian (human, fight, in front) 1157 xp
- Nate (human, smite undead, fight) 1157 xp
- Ollie (suspicious, underground, greedy, fight, leading) 1085 xp
- Tienarth remained at the temple