Summer campaign

[JLT*]

The terraced steps

We were ready to move up the guarded steps. Our retainers and the Human boy remained in the middle of the hall where we had made camp, for now it would just be Fair Hector, Clever Skarsnik, and myself.

There were two sets of steps, one on either side of the hall, like we were in a big bowl. No, rather an inverse ziggurat, with four stories, each guarded by life-sized statues. In the deep dark and with the angle upward it was difficult to determine the shape and size of the guardian statues on higher levels, but the first sets were not on a step, rather on a slight rise near the first story.

The guardian statues standing before each set of first steps were the sculpted forms of Ancients. One female and three males on each side of the great hall. Hector, Skarsnik and I carefully moved to the left side of the hall and passed the statues slowly. I even offered to help the Immortal struggle up the 15 foot high barrier that was the side of the first step.

As the Orc mad a crude attempt to reach the first plane, the guardians predictably became animate and sprang to the attack. They were dangerous opponents, but nothing swift Hector and mighty Skarnik would not batter into submission. I myself jumped against the wall, grasped the edge above and vaulted effortlessly onto the first terrace while loosing a few sharply pointed projectiles against a statue. A second group of guardian statues, huge and powerful minotaur forms, stood there, silently and motionless, but undoubtedly ready to charge. From my vantage point I took down the weaker male statues, and my companions took care of the female.

Standing on the first level of the steps, looking at the second level and the minotaurs blocking the way, I remembered what the Toxic Men had said, after Hector had sung so beautifully.

I stepped up to the Minotaurs and slowly pronounced "Titubation". The well sculpted, muscular bullheaded men sprang to motion and climbed atop of each other, embracing, interlocking and merging to form a crude stairway toward the next terrace. Huh. That worked.

The next level were sculptures of maddened dwarfs and Elf-sized fire salamanders with spiked spears. I moved behind Skarsnik, just to be safe. We had found two more words in the dungeon, one in the observatory, and the other somewhere else. I can’t really remember. We had no way to know which one would be effective, nor what would happen if we offered a faulty keyword. "Ascultation" I offered. A gamble. The dwarves and reptiles moved and contorted in a horrible scene of interlocking creatures, onstructing another makeshift stairway.

The guardians of the last step were four tall robed figures with almond shaped eyes. Hands with long bony fingers ending in pointed sharp nails. Their heads were smooth with mouths hidden behind long horrible tentacles. I’ve seen a living version of one of these creatures once before. It tore a companion’s mind asunder before consuming her brains. I remember running away at that sight. That particular expedition was ruined after encountering one of these monsters. I would not want to fight four of these things if they were to animate.

We had one unused keyword left, but decided to move back down the steps, to the other side of the hallway, where the first level of statues still stood unbroken. We offered them the word that was left, but they would not have it. The Female ancient and her paramours animated and were promptly destroyed by Hector and Skarsnik, who were standing next to the statues, ready to decapitate the leader.

We moved back to the four tentacle-faced monster statues and offered them “Insolation”. The things contorted into an abominable stairway, tentacles swirling everywhere as we moved on it.

We encountered the middle management office. There was nothing of value here, and the only things of interest were a few controls for some of the mechanisms we encountered below. Also, useless sets of keys to open the moon bronze doors below. I’ve brought my own set, thank you, all encountered doors were already opened by my skillful hands. It was clear that we needed to be on the other side of the steps to find our treasure.

A few well-placed keywords later we stood above the terraced steps on the other side. A tremendously large adamantium snakehead was blocking the only way to whatever was guarded here. Although it remained motionless, its wide maw was ready to crush any who came too close. I had the feeling that it was set up here to be offered a prize in return for passage.

If this was a puzzle, we would not like the solve.

[Tiamat]

Beste Allen,

Jelte heeft een auto kunnen regelen. Hij vertrekt tussen 7 en 7.30 bij hem thuis. Dat betekent dat jullie met hem heen en/of terug zouden kunnen rijden. We zullen dan tussen 7.30 en 8 beginnen.

Zouden jullie me zsm kunnen laten weten of bij mij spelen voor jullie haalbaar is?

Groet,

[voh]

Haalbaar.

[SageGenesis]

Ik kan morgen pas inzien wanneer ik terug in Hilversum ben.

[Tiamat]

(03-09-2017 19:29:25)voh Wrote:  Haalbaar.

Duidelijk

(03-09-2017 19:36:53)SageGenesis Wrote:  Ik kan morgen pas inzien wanneer ik terug in Hilversum ben.

Ok. laat maar weten.

[(me) Melchior]

Okido ik rij graag mee.

[voh]

Dammit, okay, so I'm going to have to ride in the car as well, because I'll need to swing by home.

[JLT*]

Bij mij verzamelen om 7 klinkt heel leuk, maar is voor mij niet echt haalbaar.. mischien ergens anders verzamelen, dat ik jullie oppik zodra ik wegkan? Anders zit iedereen hier zo..

Bij Arik zou ideaal zijn, mocht hij kunnen?

[SageGenesis]

7 ben ik waarschijnlijk nog net niet thuis, 7:15 op z'n vroegst denk ik.

[Tiamat]

PS. Wie wil, is level 7.

[JLT*]

Ik weet niet of ik de journal voor vanavond nog online krijg. Laatste stuk wordt lastig.. Een na laatste stuk is hier.

---

A Sacrifice

We tried various plans and schemes, but we knew it would not work. I completed the mechanical conundrum device I mentioned earlier, giving understanding and some control over reality and its perception. I perceived that there would be great treasure behind this monstrous maw. I knew that the only way to gain passage was to offer it a living sacrifice. Damn these horrible people. These Ancients were not a great nation. They were evil savages.

The fleeting mastery of reality gave me another insight. The Crows were coming. The three remaining Crows and a pack of undead, raised by their mage, including that Dwarf. (We’ll kill him again, that’s for sure). Our old enemies were entering the Pit above and would be here in a few hours.

Hector, brave though he is, would not offer himself willingly to the Snake. Skarsnik would not either. We did not come all this way too leave now. We summoned our retinue: Wit Tamdoun and the others. None were willing to be sacrificed. I really don’t understand these Humans. Their lives are so very short, but they are not willing to sacrifice the insignificant amount of years they have left in this world to serve the greater good. I offered treasure and wealth for their families, beyond their wildest imaginings. Not one volunteered.

Skarsnik and Hector were quietly discussing appointing a volunteer, but I had some reservations. Even humans should have some autonomy over their own measly lives. Skarsnik looked each human deep in the eyes and eventually slowly pointed at Emet, a carrier. “I’m sorry, it will have to be you.” He said menacingly. I was going to object, but I saw the look in Skarsnik’s eyes and I remained silent.

Hector was ready to grab the man, but Emet the carrier fell to his knees and pleaded for mercy. He regretted stealing form our supplies and food, to pay for his debts. Wait, what? He stole food from the expedition? Putting us all in mortal peril for the threat of starvation? My calculations were very precise, in the amount of food needed and the amount of food that we were able to transport. I am still worried how we are going to make it back. We rationalised that the carrier’s crimes were great enough to warrant to be sacrificed to an evil constructed snake’s maw alive. Forward! To the Treasure!

[JLT*]

The Inner Sanctum

The snake coiled out of the way revealing a long walkway. This walkway was greatly adorned and ended in a throne room. An audience hall with in its centre a terrifyingly grand black throne. Upon the throne were the Ancient King’s regalia: a crown and a mace.

Skarsnik briefly, slyly, looked at us, and placed the crown upon his head. He held the mighty mace in his hand, sat on the Throne and raised his arms. The awe. The magnificence. We shuddered in amazement. The orc Grimgor that I had met in Parsa, so many weeks ago, had transformed into Skarsnik the Terrible, King of the underworld, Monarch of the Ages, Lord of the Overworld, Ruler of all. We wept and grovelled before the glory that was the Immortal King.

We got a bit better when good old Skarnik took the crown off his head again. Took him some effort, though. I can imagine this kind of power can be addictive. I have the feeling that nothing but great misery and hardship can come from this terrible relic. That a great amount of mayhem shall befall the world if, nay when, this Crown falls into the wrong hands. I say we sell it quickly to a wealthy foreign merchant.

The Mace surged with power as well. Skarsnik said the force was tangible. He could crush many Crow heads with this Relic. The thing looks extremely valuable. Skarsnik is going to be very sad when he will have to part with it, per our contractual agreement, for I will not expect the worth of this item is easily represented by multitudes of other wealth we might recover here. No other option than to liquefy this asset. I’ll have to carefully consider my methods of breaking this to him. .. I really hope he doesn’t have alternative plans here.

There were more rooms in this Inner Sanctum behind the Maw. The King’s quarters had masterful paintings and art objects. Two ever-living servants were here, ready to do as they were told. Good. You can pack up these art objects and paintings for easy transport.

One of de paintings depicted a horrible but heroic scene of great individuals battling an ancient Elder God from the Sea over a decrepit old town, with the image of a great green dragon watching over the onslaught. My two remaining compatriots found the imagery somehow familiar, but I am doubtful whether the events depicted are little more than an artist’s fantasy. Although, the half-human on the painting, the one that was being consumed by the elder thing, was slightly reminiscent of Hakim. Or Fema.. Or perhaps Walker?

Then there was the Vault. I unlocked the doors to reveal the Wealth of the Ancient King. Jewels, precious metals, more art, and coins. The coins were many and strange. Foreign, not from any kingdom I have ever been. Some were clearly from the Hells, others from even more terrible places. But their great worth was undeniable.

I discovered a small vial here, with a bright liquid inside. It was labelled to be a tear of Time. Perhaps to undo past events? That seems unwise, to meddle with the flow of time. But sometimes we need to meddle a bit to come out on top. I keep the vial close for now. We might be needing this before the week is out.

This was it. This is what we sacrificed so much for to reach. What is left now is to prepare, to make sure we can bring this wonderful, life-changing treasure back home. We will live like kings. The name Htep will once again inspire awe and respect. We shall destroy any and all who will attempt to steal this from us.

[Tiamat]

(05-09-2017 13:19:11)JLT* Wrote:  One of de paintings depicted a horrible but heroic scene of great individuals battling an ancient Elder God from the Sea over a decrepit old town, with the image of a great green dragon watching over the onslaught. My two remaining compatriots found the imagery somehow familiar, but I am doubtful whether the events depicted are little more than an artist’s fantasy. Although, the half-human on the painting, the one that was being consumed by the elder thing, was slightly reminiscent of Hakim. Or Fema.. Or perhaps Walker?

[Tiamat]

de pdf van de adventure is online in de dropbox. Ik heb getracht binnen de intentie van de adventure te blijven, maar wel passend bij de resources van een party van zes 5e characters. Heb de witch en golem dorpjes verwisseld vanwege pacing.

[JLT*]

We still have a few journal updates before this is good and well finished! .. Too bad it's really hard to find the time to write them up..

---

Tactics

We needed a plan. Something brilliant to ambush the Crows and destroy them in seconds. Skarsnik came up with the best tactic: use the newly uncovered King's Mace to beat the crows into a drooping goo. Works for me. He’s such a clever one, that orc.

I spent the time we had left before our nemeses would descent into the dungeon with one of the remaining three mechanical conundrum devices. These puzzles give understanding of reality for some fleeting moments, and the effect would be beneficial in our upcoming battle. Solving it, I learned how I would be able to move as swift as a ray of the sun. No great improvement then, but every little advantage would help.

While we rested in the Throne room a bipedal reptile in robes suddenly stepped into view. I almost had three arrow loosed in tis direction, when it asked what we were doing here, and why half the stalactite had plunged into the deep. It was quite eloquent and told us its name was Reptilican the Chronosaur. For some reason I have no difficulties remembering his name, his kind has a tendency to linger. The Chonosaur had a healthy disdain for humans, but was not too keen on other mammals either. As children of the Moon, I don’t think elves qualify for his disdain, but you never know with these kinds of bigots.

This terrible Lizard had traveled to our dimension from a time beyond time, the place that is left after time has passed it. We read something about this earlier in a translation Owain had made, but that was mostly just confusing. All very complicated. An aunt had told me once that when time and everything in it had passed, giant floating spheres with moving saw-like teeth clean up what is left and leave trails of black nothingness in their wake. Turns out my aunt was wrong. After time has passed, there’s lizards.

Apparently that part of the dungeon that broke off and fell into the void was/is/ will be meant to be some kind of offspring dump for his people. We told him an evil giant caused the collapse. Technically not a lie. We told him there were humans coming, and that we needed his help to defeat them.

The reptile claimed to have great sorcerous power and he would set the humans ablaze with Arcane fire. We could easily convince the lizard to join the upcoming battle on our side, as the Crows would be bringing walking dead down with them; an affront to the natural order according to the Lizardman’s religion.

Skarnik’s plan was adjusted slightly: use the newly uncovered King's Mace to beat the crows into a drooping goo, then have the Chronosaur set them ablaze with arcane fire.

[Tiamat]

[JLT*]

A murder of Crows

Our battle location was chosen by Skarsnik as well: At the stairs where the Crows would enter the complex. Nice and simple. We used the Terraced Steps to be on higher ground, so Hector, the Chronosaur and I would have a good vantage point to shoot various missiles from.

The battle commenced with zombies dropping down the stairs (including that rotten Dwarf), and then a huge monstrous terrible lizard thing, more jaw than anything else, tumbled down onto the hallway and was among us. It charged at hector and clamped down its jaws. Hector was instantly greatly injured and could barely escape with all his limbs attached. I looked at Reptillican the Chronosaur for an instant and saw him aghast and disgusted. Later he mentioned that the terrible thing had looked uncannily like his infallible Tyrant King, but acting like a naked enraged animal. The sight must have been disturbing for him.

The Assassin woman, the leader of the pack, appeared as from no-where and shot a few well-placed bolts at Skarsnik, who groaned and cursed as the bolts found their mark. He, in turn, moved to execute our plan. Swiftly he charged toward her, bellowing a great war-cry, and brought the King’s Mace down toward her skull. The mace hummed with power, perhaps pleasure, as it broke through her cheekbone and part of her jaw. The Orc raised the Mace once more, this time the mace glanced off her other cheek and splintered the assassin’s shoulder. Huh. This tactic seemed to be working.

I jumped off the terrace, moved at the speed of light past the Assassin, slicing at her spleen, then jumped to the other side of the hall. I vaulted up the steps toward my dear Hector, who needed some help against the Monstrous lizard. While Hector retreated to even higher ground to bind some of his wounds, I distracted some of the zombies that tried to climb up to our position.

Our new friend Reptilican moved off-book however, and did not engulf the assassin in Arcane Fire, as we had agreed upon. He magicked her into a human proto-form, a tiny monkey-like creature that tried to clamper back up the stairway. The enraged huge Tyrant Lizard thing got the same treatment and was transformed into a tiny mammal as well. Our new Lizard friend’s magic powers were indeed formidable. “You are not worthy of our form, Human!” the Chronosaur bellowed at the tiny mammal, clearly insulted by the apes.

Skarsnik, mad with his newfound power, smiled and sauntered up toward the tiny mammal that used to be the naked lizard Tyrant thing, and brought down the mace. The fact Reptilican shouted something like “No you stupid sweatmonkey, that breaks the spell!” did not phase the Half-Orc. The Mace came down, humming with delight and with a big splatter and crack of stone, the tiny mammal was gone. In its place had appeared the Human fighter, brother-lover of the assassin woman, now returned to his natural, worthless form holding a pole axe. Skarsnik gave an evil smile and crashed the King’s Mace into the face of the Human, sending teeth and bits of nose flying through the great hall.

Staggering, the Human Warrior did land a few powerful hits on Skarsnik, but he did not stand a whiff of a chance. Hector and I did our part, but it was the Mace that pummeled the once mighty warrior into a drooping goo. All according to plan. The assassin woman appeared in her own form again, shouting and crying after her brother was so brutally killed, and firing more arrows into the half orc. The Chronosaur then engulfed her in a great blast of arcane fire and she fell down into a burning mess. I’ve rarely seen a plan so well executed.

I ran up the stairs at great speed to locate their wizard. I found her flying away in the form of a swift bird. It was not swift enough. I overtook the bird halfway up the stair and shot her down point blank. As she fell she regained her form and crashed down next to the smirking mug of Skarsnik. The Half Orc crushed her skull and killed her in one mighty blow. The fact that the Human mage had just died did not stop the Immortal from bringing the Mace down a few more times for good measure.

The Crows were no more. Nothing was to stop us now from looting this place of every valuable item and returning to Parsa with everything we can carry.

[JLT*]

The journey back

We had taken all the treasure we eight could carry and have made our way back up the stairs, through the counter-weighted gate and up along the sides of the great Pit. We were glad to leave this place behind, but there was a great amount of treasure left that we could not bring by ourselves. The daylight hurt our eyes but the pain was so very welcome. I sometimes forget how much I adore the sun. When our eyes had adjusted to the light, we beheld a sight that could not have been more beautiful.

As it turned out, the Crows had ambushed our friends who stayed with the caravan down below the old Dam. They captured our half-human carriers and had killed and zombified our human guards. What great luck. Our adversaries had forced our drivers to take the oxen and carts along a long way through the mountains, avoiding the Dam entirely. They had planned to use the carts to bring wealth back up from the Ancient’s stronghold.

So there they were. Carts and drivers. Oxen and supplies. Ready for us to bring our treasure up. We could empty the Ancient’s stronghold of every valuable item, tiny or great, and bring it back along to Parsa. And so we did. It took us a few days to get everything up, but there were no more deaths, no more surprises. Just hard work and the promise of great wealth. The Chronosaur helped, although he had no interest in our wealth and imagined himself above those earthly desires. I really like that reptileman. Or woman. I can’t really tell, to be absolutely honest.

As I write this we’re back at the dam. We have just barely managed to avoid a great mercenary group we’d encountered in Cragganmore (see addendum) and now I’m staring at the cut rope from which that horrific dwarf once had swung. My sweet Hector looks happy. I haven’t seen him happy since I had met him. Happiness really suits him, makes his eyes sparkle. The promise of immense wealth is world’s greatest joy. I think. I’m no philosopher. Just filthy rich.

Skarsnik holds the Crown and the Mace close. The artifacts seem to be getting to the Immortal and I have abandoned my hope to get the Mace from him. I can barely imagine the power he must have felt while crushing the Crows. He might agree to part with the Crown, if I play this correctly. Even without it, we should not want for anything, perhaps I should let him keep it. It would be breaking the contract, however, so I would not prefer to let this slide. He did crush a carrier’s skull who had lied about having completed a task. The Orc could not have known the lie, it must have been the Mace clearly asserting its power. Perhaps best to leave well enough alone.

---

Civilisation

We have made our way back through the flooded fields and we have avoided Cragganmore altogether. I am sitting at a desk in my room in an expensive roadside inn and we’re a week away from Parsa. I’m confident in my statement that we’re safely back in civilisation.

I had not expected to meet Owain on the flooded plain, near the village where we fought the Wicked Witch of the Water. He was leading a great band of brainwashed humans and the Bard went by the name of Glendaur now. Our former friend was no longer himself. The Witch had clearly fried his brain and personality. Probably for the best. Our former leader greeted Skarksnik like a long lost brother, and the immediately Orc was inclined to leave our expedition. He was fair enough not to demand any of our wealth, though he could have staked a claim and backed it up with the brainwashed manpower available to him. We agreed that he would forgo his claim on the treasure if he could keep the King’s Mace. We wrote an amendment to our contract and left Glendaur and Skarsnik there with their chosen fates.


Reptillican the Chronosaur has said his goodbyes and said he will explore the world of mammalian cuisine. I fear he does not mean food Humans eat, but I should not be concerned too much with technicalities. The great reptile could be an invaluable contact to have in the future. Or past. Or present. He is a confusing individual.


I will bring Hector and this Human boy back to my compound in Parsa. I’m sure the current owner would not mind to vacate the premises in return for slight compensation. I have waited for decades to get my library back. Oh and Dalir, my dear human house slave. Haven’t seen him in 50 years. I forget, do Humans keep for 90 years? I digress. The Boy shall be my apprentice, and the Hashashin my guest, for as long as his wanderlust permits. I can not wait to be home.

[JLT*]

Epilogue

This shall be my final entry in this journal. Our expedition was my greatest venture thus far, and not without peril. The journey has seen me with great reward, but some of the sights I have seen are not easily banned from visualizing in trace. The trip has left me with some good friends and acquaintances. Also, gold. So, so much gold.

Corneak has last been seen leading a powerful mercenary group and is rumoured to have gained powers below the earth. Could have told us about that before he left us. He is making the world a better place, I think, and he’s not too terribly expensive. He is a good contact to have, and I am after all these years still close with his human mother.

King Skarsnik the Terrible and Glendaur, Spiller of Blood and Spinner of Tales, rule a small kingdom north of the Parsa Empire. They hold the entrance to the World Below, and smuggling, fear and murder are common in their lands. It really suits them well. I hope to visit one day.

There are tales of a great Lizard Sorcerer, roaming the Eastern lands, striking fear in the hearts of mammals, wandering from city to city to prepare the coming of the Tyrant King beyond Time. I am so very glad I gave him a map to the Islands of the Rising Sun, rather than show him the way to my fair Parsa.

The Boy Wit Tamdoun is now my apprentice, learning about treasure hunting, disarming traps and opening locks. And though oft forgotten by other practitioners, administration, as that too is an invaluable skill for a treasure hunter. He’ll learn a lot, but as a human he is doomed to perish before he gains true understanding of the art. He also fetches my wine, so that’s good.

I myself have not had this close an Elven friend in many a decade, perhaps a century, and I do hope Hector will keep me company for a while. His ways are not the ways of the sprawling metropolis, though. I fear he will leave me before the century is over. I shall offer to handle his affairs if he lets me, his assets will be in no better hands than mine.

We live here as the great Kings of Old, and with the Parsa Empire crumbling, there might be some behind the scenes role to play for two immensely wealthy, un-ageing Elves.

I still hold the Tear of Time close. Perhaps, someday, in a century or two, when my empire is failing, the boredom returns and the desire for adventure calls, I shall use it. Then we can do this all once more and relive old memories. Rekindle old love, who will by then have surely left. I have been thinking about good old Hakim lately. I do remember him fondly, he had his dear mother’s eyes. Who knows, perhaps we can even keep my Bastard alive next time.



-Fin-

[SageGenesis]

(21-09-2017 20:03:52)JLT* Wrote:  There are tales of a great Lizard Sorcerer, roaming the Eastern lands, striking fear in the hearts of mammals, wandering from city to city to prepare the coming of the Tyrant King beyond Time. I am so very glad I gave him a map to the Islands of the Rising Sun, rather than show him the way to my fair Parsa.

In our tongue, he is named Gojira.

[JLT*]

[Tiamat]

(21-09-2017 20:03:52)JLT* Wrote:  I have been thinking about good old Hakim lately. I do remember him fondly, he had his dear mother’s eyes. Who knows, perhaps we can even keep my Bastard alive next time.

[nar]

Ahh, that was superb ^^ thanks jelte!

[JLT*]

Glad to hear it was a good read. Its been fun to be inside the mind if that cranky old Elf for a while.

[nar]

It was awesome seeing it all unfold