The party more or less began to follow Menka’s insect path in reverse. We reached the wall we had previously taken down with Gonchar’s hammer and, passing through, headed north. The tunnel was supported in makeshift fashion with hastily erected wooden beams. Ahead, in the distance we heard a loud, barking scream. A cross between a human and an animal.

We found ourselves in a large room we had been in before. Shelves laden with kegs and barrels lined the walls. A large, dead monster now occupied the room as well. The river ran through, east to west.

A sloped passage lead north, while the western wall held a door. Flint listened at the door ^{[Using *Hear Bullshit* at 25%]} . He couldn’t hear anything but the river rushing by a few feet away. The door appeared to be slightly swollen with age. It also swung toward us and seemed to be free of traps. Cathal was unable to open the door, but some member of the party made their check, and the door swung inward.

It opened into a damp room which once served as an office. Wet, musty records on rotting shelves. A few dusty bottles but one noticably emph{not}, probably consumed by Uther. Doors stood in the north and south walls.

We tried the north door, only the druid was man enough to open it. In any event, open it did. Stairs beyond lead upward in a cobweb festooned, damp hallway. There was a rush of damp air when we opened the door.

Flint listened at a door at the top of the stairs and heard a dance party in progress, but nothing else of interest. Cathal was able to grapple the large, swollen, member wrestle the door open, knocking some rocks over on the otherside in the process. They fell harmlessly into the next room. We continued to hear water in the distance. Louder, as we moved forward. It was time to get the hell out of here.

Check, please.#

He stepped into the next room. The raw materials of a cooper were scattered about, and a long-dead humanoid in rusted chain mail lay on the floor. The eastern wall in this room had collapsed, making passage in that direction impossible. A large chest sat along the western wall, though.

Flint checked the trap for chests and became stuck to it. An arm appeared out of the side of the chest and clubbed him for 10 points of damage. Cathal immediately set up on the living chest with his sword, when the creature said “hold!”. In its strange, gutteral common it said “you give me food, I let him go.” Gonchar, Menka and Lycovyne agreed to backtrack a bit and hack up some tentacled delight for the mimic.

Having sliced and dice, we returned to the immobilized dwarf and his friend. On the way back, the 3 heroes were attacked by a wandering tentacled tree!

• initiative win?
• Lycovyne zapped it with a Cone of Cold for 26 points.
• Menka cast stumble upon the creature.
• Gonchar nailed it for 16 points of damage
• It attacked Gonchar but missed, stumbling, praise Thoth!
• It did not miss Menka, clobbering him for 30 points of damage and wrapping him in a tentacle.
• Gonchar nailed it again for 15 points.
• initiative tie
• Menka took 4 more points of contriction damage
• Lycovyne hit it with a magic missile
• Gonchar missed, then got hit for 16 points, though it missed Lycovyne
• Gonchar hit it for 17, killing it
• dark young, 78 hp?

Black ichor that smelled of an open grave oozed from the creature’s hacked corpse. Menka stealthily avoided it when he dropped to the floor. Cathal applied first aid to Menka’s wounds, getting him back 3 points. A further 15 came from a cure serious wounds getting him to (42/54).

Gonchar, Menka and Lycovyne then dragged some sushi-grade tentacle back to the mimic, which it ingested with relish. The beast set Flint free and tucked in to its meal.

A collapsed hallway lead north, barely 4’ of vertical space to get through. Gonchar explored ahead. It looked like a large, large creature had burrowed past our position, leaving U-shaped grooves in the living stone in its wake. The creature must have been roughly 30’ around. We followed its path east into a huge cavern that stunk of spoiled wine an open graves. The creature’s path then turned north.

To the north, the large creature’s path terminated in a collapsed wall. To the south a 30’ corridor lead down. We followed the river, south, across the cavern. In the distance above us we heard large wings flapping, and realized we were out in the open and probably lit up like Christmas trees to the creatures. The river was 15-30’ across.

Cathal jumped across, acting as bait. Not drawing any fire, he beckoned to the party to follow him. Menka, Lycovyne and Gonchar crossed the river on the Carpet. Or not. The carpet peeps and the druid (who had hung back) all rolled initiative.

• The trio on the Carpet were set upon by enormous ropy, black serpents 30-40’ long, with wings. Ropy, black tentacles assailed us as we tried to cross the river.
• Lycovyne was struck for 13 points
• Menka got hit for 8 points and, ensnared, began to rise into the air
• As Menka began to rise Tim hit the creature lifting him fire a fireball
  • it obviously hurt, but our varied continual light effects seemed to hurt it even more - the creature dropped Menka into the river
• Simultaneously, Kyril got hit for 8 points by a second creature of the same make and, captured, began to rise in the air. After being lifted and before getting carried too far, Kyril changed shape into a snake. Slithering out of the grip of the creature, the “snake” was dropped into the river and began swimming toward the group. Kyril went to the far shore near where the party was congregating under their light spells and changed back into his ruggedly handsome self.
• Gonchar managed to nail it with is hammer as it lifted off for 17 points of damage

Cathal jumped out over the water, but was unable to lift the plate mail clad priest out of river. Gonchar managed to grab Menka at the water’s edge and help him scramble onto dry land, praise Thoth!

The reek of the open grave and long-festering wounds filled the area once again, brought on by the wounds sustained by the creatures? Menka cured his more serious wounds, getting himself back to (49/54). Kyril cured Lycovyne’s more serious wounds, getting him back to (41/47).

Cathal joined the party on the shore just as a tentacled tree creature attacked! It did not seem to be bothered by our continual light effects.

• initiative tie?
• Tim zapped the fuck out of it with magic missiles for 42 points!
• Gonchar got whacked for 18 points and the tentacled creature tried to ensare him. The dwarf made his dex and strength checks and wrestled himself free
• Seamus got whacked for 9 points and found himself ensnared!
• Flint got nailed for 16 points but made his str and dex saves and avoided capture
• Lycovyne got nailed as well for 15 points - he swung back, but missed
• Gonchar hit it for 12 points
• The cleric nailed it for 7 more
• The thief snuck in and filleted the creature; it dropped its captives
• dark young, 82 hp

Cathal got his medic wings once again binding everyone’s wounds, and curing spells were called forth. To the north, a spiral staircase, little left but crumbling stone, climbed into the inky blackness above. We were unable to see the creatures flying overhead with infravision.

We ascended the stairs as far as they went, though they had long crumbled down to nothing and did not reach the cavern ceiling, 60’ over our heads. There was no other way to go - we would be exposing ourselves to the creatures mid-air, but they seemed to be avoiding us and our lights. Carpet rides followed, trailing a rope just in case, and the party finally exited the underground cavern!

Another Ruined Temple#

Things went from bad to worse. The surface was indeed the nightmare Menka had seen as an insect. A dead, blackened ruin of a temple, surrounded by sickly trees, hung with grapes like squirming tumors.

We saw Menka’s blacked fountain in the distance and headed in that direction. We sensed (rather than saw) enormous creatures milling about in the forest, and aware of our presence. Those these creatures were probably of enormous experience point value, we chose not to engage them, and instead, continued our beeline toward the fountain. Cathal hopped, skipped and jumped his way there, directly.

We saw dark young among the trees, and one arose from the fountain as we approached.

• initiative loss
• Cathal got tentacled for 19 points of damage, but avoided capture
• It missed Seamus
• Flint used his Wand of Wonder and we found ourselves doing battle with a creature out of hellish nightmare on a very nice lawn, indeed. A well manicured putting green, in fact. This arcane landscaping marvel stretched out 160’ in all directions.
• Tim missiled it for 27 points
• Menka nailed it with a thunderstroke for 16 points, praise Thoth!
• Kyril created a ring-shaped Wall of Fire
• Cathal sliced the creature for 19 points
• Gonchar killed it from afar with his hammer
• dark young, 82 hp

Cathal leapt forward and plugged the Elder Sign into the socket embedded in the fountain, just as Menka had seen in his dream. A bright light flared and the knight took one point of damage from the glare. He also took 20 points of damage walking back through Kyril’s Wall of Fire (??????).

As soon as the Elder Sign clicked into place, the sun came out, and life breathed back into the land. The large, immaculate lawn we all bestrode was magnmificent in its singular splendor. The overwhelming sense of evil was dispersed, entirely.

Kyril cured Cathal’s more serious wounds, getting him from 9 hit points back to (31/67). The druid then cast detect magic, to see the fountain shining like a beacon. Cathal filled his consecrated vessel with water from the fountain and tasted it. Good, clean drinking water.

Stunned and relieved, we scanned around and noted an overgrown path heading north.

In Search of a Warm Meal#

The Druid shape-changed to a bird and flew north, along the path which led from the temple. Said path wandered north for a few miles, then, at the top off a long bluff, turned south and west and followed a river, leading to a intermittent farms, surrounding a keep situated on an isle mid-river. A town was visible in the distance beyond the keep. The druid returned to the party and reported the same.

We followed the boulder-strewn trail across open land for 3 miles before we saw a sign of animal life or thriving flora. The area around the ruined temple had no doubt been frozen, but also seemed to have been shunned by nature and was only now, with the cessation of the evil influence, beginning to return to normal.

We reached a fork in the road. To the right, the road lead southeast along a rough track. To the west however the road improved, followed a river, and lead to a keep situated on a small isle in the center of the river. As we approached the keep, an armed group exited the keep and approached us, lead by a severe woman and a much less severe peer of the Hibernians among us. Great. Even more Irish.

He called himself Ninax O’Shaughnessy. One of the men-at-arms with him announced him as the defender of the keep in stilted, formal tones before Ninax shut him down. He spoke easily and congenially with the party, perhaps because some of his kinsmen were among you.

Ninax conversed freely with the party, much to the chagrin of his female companion. She seemed to communicate with him via hand gestures, clearly expressing exasperation, and we did not hear her speak. Ninax warned us of danger and evil in the blackened woods and land around the temple, back the way we had come, and stated that a great evil had overtaken the Temple of the wine-god in years past, and that the people of Markheim (a town beyond the keep, he said) - and Westkeep - had avoided the region since. People who ventured too near disappeared, he said. Strange things roamed in the woods. More recently, an unseasonable cold had descended on the land, and had only recently begun to abate. we explained that the evil force had been thrown down and destroyed. They were skeptical but willing to believe us, intending to send out riders to check.

He offered to put us up in the keep for the night, where we could rest in security and get a warm meal. Over the silent protestations of his female companion, we agreed, entered the keep and made camp for the night. The keep was manned and maintained by a force loyal to Harrold, the Castellan of Markheim. He leads that force, which guards the river-road, and ranges amongst surrounding farms to keep peace.

There was no inn in the river-keep, so we opted to stay around our own fire. Ninax joined us at our fire once we had settled in and attended to camp business. His female companion joined us as well, silent and scowling the whole time.

Ninax spoke at length and in detail about the nearby town of Markheim. Local tribesmen and hill people who had, until the wine-temple went “bad”, lived and worked in that area, had since moved to Markheim and worked the mines for years, enriching Markheim in the process. The hill people and tribesman had fled when the temple fell into darkness. He’s not sure when or if they will ever come back.

He said we would be able to find resources and supplies in the town. There are inns in the outer town which were cheaper, and there was also an inn in the keep (Thuragin’s Traveler’s Rest) but it was remarkably expensive.

He said we were in the Barony of Calandia, east of Westkeep. He also provided us with a list of people and places of interest in Markheim.

• Harrold Marksguard
  • Castellan of Markheim. Runs the town.
• Custalcon
  • Owns a manor in town and has his own militia. Silver mining magnate.
• Diamond Spider Inn
  • A seedy inn run by one Spider Braz, from the Kingdom of Many Isles.
• Ragnar Thiesson
  • Priest of the Temple of Tyr; square dance caller, also teaches fighting.
• Aesil
  • A local wizard, her face and body are covered in the scars of horrible burns.

He tells the party that the road continues west to Markheim. The river (which flows east-west) originated in the mountains beyond Markheim. When we are ready to leave, he offered to send us off with some men-at-arms and horses which need shodding. We can simply take the main road directly to Markheim. The pass through the mountains beyond Markheim is overrun with ogres and gnolls and we may want to find another route. Gonchar and Cathal disagreed, thinking it the perfect route to follow when we leave the town.

We posted guards and rested the night in the keep. In the morning, with the friendly words of Ninax (and under the baleful gaze of his silent companion) we saddled up with three men-at-arms as companions and cantered easily toward Markheim.

The party rode for a half-day, and as we approached Markheim, farms become more plentiful in the surrounding land. The party arrived at Markheim, a medium-sized town with a large, many-towered keep atop a rocky bluff overlooking the town. The river flowed east-west through the town and mountains rose to the west beyond the keep on these borderlands.

We had approached from the east, rolling lowlands dotted with farms, and to the south seems much the same. South of the river is a bustling group of huts, of more recent construction, amongst which move shorter, swarthier folk \emph{similar in build and complexion to the tribesmen we had vanquished in the abandoned Dwarf-keep}. In the land immediately south of these huts are numerous gardens with busy folk tilling the recently-thawed soil, and the Druid recognizes Auntie T amongst these folk, assisting with their efforts.

Farther west, but still south of the river, are buildings of larger construction, including what appears to be a war-temple of the Northern sort. The road crosses the river to the north and splits, one road heading uphill to the keep, with armed guards peering down watchfully from the towers, and folk and wagons passing in and out of the gates to the keep. The road also splits into the lower town north of the river, winds through the town, and continues north of the town into hills which rise beyond. These hills appear dotted with homes and farms, and in the distance a tall tower is visible rising above the hills…

end