Watchfires & Thrones Session #45

After an almost four month recess, the players gathered around the table to explore the depths of Stonehell Dungeon once again, but first there was some old business to attend to.

Aieglos and Anwar had completed their training and were looking to occupy the time until the rest of the party returned from their trip upriver to destroy the last vestiges of the Hobgoblin armies. Having been gone just over a week, their absence was not yet cause for alarm. However, Templeton Naz, the proprietor of the Mad Manor was beginning to hint rather strongly that someone needed to take care of the putrefying corpse of Rondo Fleagle that remained in the boarding house’s cold storage space. As the party had sworn to return the dead dwarf to his former home of Dro-baan Khaz, Aieglos and Anwar arranged to join a caravan heading towards the heart of the dwarven kingdom. After three days of travel and a few minor encounters (boulder-hurling apes in the mountain passes and a giant gar that ate one of the caravan’s mounts as they crossed a river), the duo arrived in the subterranean mountain city of Dro-baan Khaz.

Upon their arrival, they sought assistance in what to do with Rondo’s body and were put into contact with one of the dwarven heralds to ascertain what Vein the slain mercenary belonged to. That’s when difficulties arose. Fleagle is not a dwarven name and there was no record of lineage existing for him. It was only when the coffin was open and the herald glimpsed the rotting face within that the reality of the situation became apparent. A look of shock burst upon the herald’s face and Aieglos and Anwar found themselves ushered into an out of the way chamber while a great commotion occurred outside. Several hours passed and there was still no sign of the clamor dying down. Finally, the two were sent for and a quartet of dour-faced dwarven soldiers escorted them out of the room and deep into the inner halls of the dwarven city. As they traveled, they noticed the same sad faces and black mourning bands strapped across shields. It was only when they found themselves escorted before King Tobben of the Underhalls that they learned the truth of what had occurred.

“Rondo Fleagle” was actually Randle Flowstone, the king’s second son. Years ago, an argument between the two led to Randle being declared a “mortdwerg” which effectively made him dead in the eyes of his father. Randle left the city, assumed another name, and sought to prove to his stubborn father that the surface races were worthy of the trust of the dwarves and that without dealings with them, the dwarves of the Kinan-M’Nath would continue to stagnate and die. Randle was a well-liked prince and his ostracism was a great travesty to most of the residents of the city. With his body returned and now no hope of reconciliation with his father, the entire city of Dro-baan Khaz was in mourning.

Once appraised of the situation, Anwar and Aieglos had a quick pow-wow and produced the resurrection ruby they had claimed weeks ago. Informing the king of its power, the duo summoned the great dwarven clerics and proceeded to place the gem upon Randle’s dead chest. Moments later, the magic of the gem came to life, the stone shattered, and Randle Flowstone was once again amongst the living.

Rejoicing at the return of their prince, the two found themselves honored guests of Dro-baan Khaz and feted for several days. They had earned a place of respect amongst the dwarves and were welcome to return at any time. Randle announced he would remain with his people to try and open their eyes as to what their role in the future of the Kinan-M’Nath would be and to reacquaint himself with his position and with his father. As a gesture of thanks for returning his son to a stubborn old king, the two were gifted the Ring of the Hastanes, a magical ring entrusted to the dwarves when the Hastane line vanished 500 years ago. Its powers were unknown since no wizards existed amongst the dwarves, but clerical magic had determined that it bore a powerful magical aura. Taking the ring, the two returned to Blackpool to see if their comrades had returned from their mission upriver.

Back in Blackpool, they were dismayed to learn their friends were overdue. Reports from the Warden Rangers confirmed that the hobgoblin and goblin forces had been routed and were slinking back to their caves. Kaldar had returned and told of the rest of the party entering a crumbling monastery on the western bank of the river while he kept watch on a prisoner outside. When two days had passed and the river boat, the Otter, was due back at Fort Wolf’s Head, Kaldar returned to the river and caught the ship back to Blackpool to report. Anwar and Aieglos decided that if no word was heard in the next week, a rescue mission would be arranged and they would head upriver to discover what happened to their allies.

In the meantime, their coffers would need replenishing and they turned their sights back on Stonehell. With many of their numbers training or missing, the two decided to recruit some fresh members and hire on more mercenaries. Two new candidates for membership were found in the Mad Manor: a dwarf named Helgsvar Dragonsbane and a human cleric with the unlikely name of Chuck of Amencia. With stalwarts Dirk Sodbuster and Rolf Sheepminder once again on the payroll, the group headed back to Stonehell intent on exploring the southeastern portion of the uppermost level. It was not to be.


Entering the dungeon without incident, they unrolled their map and ventured off towards the route that would take them around the pit trap that had annoyed them for so many weeks. Almost immediately they discovered that changes had occurred to the dungeon in their absence. The “voice room”—the chamber where a ghostly voice and a rush of wind calls out strange portents—had acquired a short flight of stairs that ended in a pillar of fire. The flames seemed real, cooking rations thrown into it, and leaving the party uncertain as to what this mysterious new addition meant. Deciding to leave it alone for the time being, they headed to the west, passing the fountain room and the catacombs that lead to the skull shrine.

Arriving in a room where they once battled centipedes, they discovered a door in the west wall where none had stood before. Also, the southern corridor out of the chamber had acquired a mysterious western turn. Deciding against venturing into new territory before they got their bearings, the band headed north.

The corridor headed straight as far as even infravision could see, but at least two doors and a side passage were visible along its length. Venturing down it, the party bypassed the side corridor (but noticed a door on its north wall), and pressed on towards where Helgsvar’s infravision had detected a series of niches in the wall just past a door on the eastern wall. Helgsvar forged ahead to investigate the cavities, and after finding them empty, called the rest of the party forward.

As they did so, a secret passage opened in the eastern wall and three of Stonehell’s berserk deviants poured at to attack the party. Two charged poor Dirk and Rolf while the third advanced on Chuck. Simultaneously, another seven emerged from the door in the side passage to attack the party from the rear. Chuck and his pet dog were slain moments after the ambush began, but Rolf and Dirk held their ground long enough for Aieglos’ arrows and Anwar’s sleep spell to cripple the berserkers and allow the party to carry the day.

The threat neutralized, they party entered the secret chamber to the east and found a guard room and pantry. Several fresh humanoid corpses hung from the ceiling, and one was found to be extremely fresh—still alive! They cut down the meal-to-be and met Felix Fartouch, a human archer that had been destined for the stewpot until the adventurers came along. They welcomed Felix to their ranks and scooped up a dozen copper trinkets they discovered under a pile of cleaned skulls.

Deciding that south might prove better than the north did, the party stopped to see what the room the rest of the berserkers had emerged from contained and found it to be a general quarters. A chest inside the room contained several hundred silver coins, but also a needle trap that Helgsvar barely avoided.


Back in the southern chamber, they entered the mysterious new door to discover a room filled with empty old barrels. Helgsvar entered and began pounding on barrels, stirring up a quartet of centipedes as he did so. He fled from the room, but Anwar smelled treasure and the party cautiously reentered some minutes later. They searched the room, defeated the centipedes, and Aieglos’ elven eyes discovered a loose flagstone that held three ruined leather sacks holding one hundred gold coins apiece! A mighty haul, indeed.

Feeling better about the changes to the dungeon, the party took the southern passage and found it almost immediately debouched into a bare room. Only a layer of purple powder covered the floor, and this was highly suspect. Sure enough, Helgsvar prodded the dust with a 10’ pole and it erupted into a gaseous cloud that he barely avoided. Poison was the likeliest result from breathing it. Anwar decided to try and burn the dust with torches, but his attempts to throw them around the bend in the corridor produced laughable results. The party was just about to attempt to wet the powder down when Aieglos noticed a glow coming down the hall from the fountain room.

A wandering fire beetle was out scavenging for food and with memories of the carnage the beasts had caused them in the Quiet Halls, the party wasted no time in attacking. Unfortunately, their assault did little to penetrate the carapace of the beetle and it was soon upon them. Helgsvar took a grievous wound and Rolf and Dirk exhibited great battle acumen before the beetle was finally slain.

The party decided that enough was enough and they’d go back across the damned pit again to get south. When they reached the corridor on the far side of the pit, however, they discovered that the corridor no longer ran south. Frustrated, they speculated that the catacombs and skull shrine might now contain a southern route, but headed to the Wheel of Fortune first. The door to the Wheel room was unusually stubborn, and when Helgsvar yanked hard on the door, a pit opened beneath them, dropping Felix and Helgsvar (Aieglos played an avoid taps card to escape the pit) into a 10’ shaft. Injured, but not slain, the party recovered their own and took a wine break.

With their wounds bandaged and their spirits restored, the party returned to the catacombs and stood before the massive stone double doors…and found them locked. Suddenly recalling that they had picked the lock the last time they explored this section of the dungeon, Anwar produced a magical scroll. Reading it aloud, the words ignited a blue fire that limned the portals. With a groan, they swung open and the party entered cautiously. All the crypt doors along the corridor were closed, so the band moved swiftly to the door at the far end that would lead them to the skull chapel. Passing through, they found the shrine empty and left Rolf and Dirk to watch the doors as they began searching for secret egresses.

Their hard work discovered a secret panel in the eastern wall, but it unfortunately did not lead deeper into the dungeon and instead concealed a small cavity that held old clerical robes and a large coffer. The party hemmed and hawed over the coffer until Felix lost his patience and opened the container with a flick of the wrist—and promptly died from the poison needle that protected it. The rest of the party found several thousand silver, some small pieces of jewelry, and two potions.

As they began to pack the treasure, a light appeared behind them and they turned to meet a human dressed in leather armor. Introducing himself as Gustaf Bickers, he claimed to be a “procurement specialist” that had been planning on breaking into these catacombs for weeks, only to find them open after he bought a skeleton key from a shifty character to bypass the lock. The party apologized and offered him a position with them since they now had an opening. Gustaf accepted.

Still unable to head south, the band decided to check every crypt along the entrance to see if a new door had appeared in them or if they held a secret portal they had missed. One by one, the party threw open the doors to find many of the crypts empty. One held four skeletons that the party quickly dispatched, finding a potion of flying for their troubles; another held a swarm of giant rats that almost overwhelmed the party. In the end, the rats were slain and a scroll of magic missiles was found in their nest, but not before poor Gustav was bitten and contracted the Sumatran Flu. Taking this as an omen, the party left Stonehell to return another day.

Watchfires & Thrones Session #44

[Cue flashback music]

On the late morning of the 25th of The Bloom, a few short days after the stalwart members of the Society of Plane-Walkers departed Blackpool to confront and defeat the hobgoblin menace, a party of would-be adventurers arrived at the end of the Last Hard Road and entered the frontier town. This cadre of fortune hunters had journeyed to the Kinan-M’Nath from the quiet horse town of Shy Kimoor, some few days’ travel to the east. Drawn by the legends of Stonehell, the party was a most unusual mix of men and not-men.

Amongst the unnamed group’s ranks were Clausius Clapeyron, a dwarf and former brewer’s assistant renowned for his constant state of intoxication; Lordarain Brigmore, a cleric of Father Moon and former merchant; Sir Octo Puss III, a disowned octopus noble fallen on hard times; Ronald Crump, entrepreneur and magic-user; Tarfuhl, a Hurg and former military officer; and Trevor, outlaw magic-user. Having heard of the fantastic wealth that lay inside the former prison for the taking, the six had come in search of their own share of treasure. But first, they decided that stout men-at-arms were needed to help ensure their survival in the dungeon’s depths.

Directions from the local constabulary led them to the Dead Dragon Inn, the sole traveler’s rest house in town. Inside the common room, the group encountered a quartet of idle caravan guards and a much-maimed and cantankerous former dungeon delver. The latter was an abusive, if not completely unhelpful advisor and the former became hired hands in the party’s first foray into the dungeon. With little time to waste and plans to come back rich by sundown, the group, now assisted by Ivan, Merk, Chogah, and Lou (the men-at-arms), set off for the famous death trap.

The group arrived without incident, pausing to decipher some of the faded graffiti scrawled on the crumbling gatehouse wall. One phrase spoke of gold nuggets the size of apples beyond the Living Caves, and it was upon this obscure clue that the band set their sights. The party, throwing caution to the wind, strode brazenly through the gatehouse’s underpass, but Ronald Crump halted the back two ranks of the company in mid-stride to see if fatalities befell the rest of the group as they passed the murder holes and arrow slits. This action was noticed and unappreciated by those put in harm’s way. Apologies were made and the group continued into the box canyon.

Ignoring the ruins and caves of the canyon, the party followed the largest grouping of tracks directly to the dungeon’s entrance. Lighting torches and assembling with men-at-arms at front and rear, they descended down the long, winding stairs to arrive in the dungeon’s “H Room.” The eastern door proved stubborn to open, so the band made their way through the ogre arch and down the northern passage (after taking the map away from the perpetually drunk and Wisdom of 3 dwarf fighter).

A stout door stood past the archway and the band gathered about it in preparation for their first big score. Pulling the door open, they discovered a sunken floor and an atmosphere stinking of sulfur. In the center of the depression stood an intricately wrought brazier from which a score of 4” long frogs were leaping forth to cavort about the floor. This odd enough phenomenon was made odder still by the fact that each frog (and the brazier itself) burned with purple flames!

Clausius and Sir Octo entered the room. Clausius, without a beat, whirled his flail down on the closet frog, causing it to explode in a blast of fire, killing the animal and setting his own clothes afire. Sir Octo watched as four of the closest frogs turned their attentions on the burning dwarf and launched themselves at the drunken warrior. In seconds, Clausius was dead and burning brightly on the dungeon floor. The campaign had a new record for shortest-lived PC, a title former held by Pip Haggleham. Attempts were made to draw the frogs away from the burning dwarf (so that his gear might be scavenged) with a torch, but the fiery frogs had no interest in normal orange-red flames. The party closed the door and continued north.

Passing a wide corridor with bridge-like overpasses and avoiding a door that sounded of rats, the party reached a T-intersection and proceeded left. They swiftly came across a square chamber adorned with carvings of human faces, their mouths open wide. Attempts to cross the room revealed that the floor was pressure sensitive, firing darts at those who mis-stepped on its cracked surface. After half the party had made it across (and killed a spitting cobra attracted by their hot torches), the rest of the band learned that they could cross unscathed by climbing the carved faces and the room was safely bypassed.

Only a short distance beyond was another square room—this one adorned with large eyes carved in the walls. Sir Octo, using his natural climbing skills, hauled his body up one wall and across the ceiling to scout ahead. The rest of the group crossed with caution and were either extremely lucky or the room was untrapped—there were no injuries this time.

Beyond the eye room, the corridor turned south and was marked by eight small niches, each large enough to hold a decorative bust. The sixth niche seemed to hold one such carving: the head of a human male with oddly-upswept hair and wearing a cape some two-hundred years out of fashion. The party attempted to collect this piece and discovered that it was a hologram. No other signs of secret doors, hidden mirrors, or out of place details could be found. A mystery, indeed. Perhaps it points to other secrets waiting to be found.

The party continued on, forgetting to probe their way with 10’ pole. This meant that both Ivan and Sir Octo blundered into the trap waiting for them. With an explosion of white, glaring light, the duo found themselves adorned with thousands of pieces of glowing glitter, each of which provided ample illumination to nullify any chance of them sneaking about in the dark dungeon. To complicate matters, as the two walked, unearthly music arose from no visible source to accompany their movements:

The two had become walking dinner bells.

Attempts to wash the glitter off with water proved futile, but the band discovered a small storage room not far from the site of the trap. This chamber held the accumulated detritus of a hundred failed adventuring bands, most of which had deteriorated in the dank dungeon environment. The party decided to hole up, search the room, and see if the dinner bell trap would wear off.

The party passed the time digging through the ruined equipment, finding several useful items—bolts and arrows, torches, a ladder, iron spikes, a shovel, a crowbar, and vials of oil. Amongst this mundane gear were two small glass vials holding red and green liquids. The party paused to experiment and learned two things: 1) the glowing glitter was oil-solvable and the two afflicted members were cleansed of their musical decorations, and 2) the red and green liquids were both deadly poisons. Alas, this lesson was learned when Ronald Crump and Sir Octo Pus III sampled from the bottles. Both died in agony.

With half the party dead (and the referee’s sore back causing him much pain), the party exited the dungeon—weighted down with the wealth of their slain comrades—to try their luck another day.

Watchfires & Thrones Session #34

At the end of the last session, the players decided to cut their subterranean explorations short because a missing player was supposed to return the following session and leaving the dungeon early would make things easier for all of us. So, when that player had to miss this week’s session, I “rewound the clock,” waved away my previous statement that the party returned to Blackpool unharmed, and picked things up with the PCs still in Stonehell examining the “Murphy Room” (named after the bed, not the law).

Having decided that the flip-top floor and furniture of this strange room looked suspicious, the band headed back to the massive portal they discovered in the room they believe led down to the fourth level of Stonehell Dungeon. Lighting fresh torches, the party passed through the cube and pool room (“The Lobby”), before reaching the high-ceiling chamber whose upper reaches were festooned with webbing. As they crossed the room, Hoover’s half-elven ears caught the sound of small humanoid footsteps approaching and the party hugged the walls in preparation for an ambush.

Their torches unfortunately ruined any chance of them successfully ambushing the approaching creatures and the sound of footsteps halted before their owners came into view. “Who’s dere?” came the call from the darkness beyond the party’s torch light.

“We are the Society of Plane Walkers, noble adventurers in search of glory and riches!”

“Oh,” came the reply, clearly unimpressed.

The two groups cautiously approached one another until the speaker was revealed: one of a half-score of kobolds holding spears and bulging canvas sacks. The scaly dog-man who spoke the Common tongue introduced himself as Sibik, explaining that he and his comrades were on their way from the lower levels en route to the Kobold Market with a bounty of goobachuk. This was revealed to be a dried fungus that many of the residents of the dungeon found edible (although the kobolds themselves disliked the stuff).

Thus began a pleasant conversation between the two diverse groups. The party learned much about the denizens of the third level, which seemed strangely small according to their map. The chambers they had explored were the main thoroughfare between the 2nd and 4th levels of the dungeon, inhabited only by “The Lady” and her “two big sons.” Some monsters occasionally prowled the halls, but it was mostly a traffic corridor for Stonehell’s residents. On the level below them were “caves, da big bridge over da fog with no bottom, and the Gentlemen dat cook dinners.”

After acquiring this intelligence, attempts were made to gauge the kobolds’ relationship with their potentate, Trustee Sniv. The party has vowed to get their vengeance on the fez-sporting, fur coat-wearing kobold boss ever since he shook them down for 100 gold marks and banned them from the community of Barkruf-Yip-Yip. Sibik explained that he had no feelings toward Sniv one way or the other—he was an independent goobachuk merchant who profited on the kobold market’s general neutrality.

Speaking of that oddly named fungus, the party purchased a bag of the stuff from Sibik, forking over 30 gold marks for the honor. After slipping the kobold a few more gold coins for his time and information, the party and the kobolds went their separate ways.

Continuing west, the party returned to the massive portal in the northern wall of the stairs room. Efforts to pry the doors open were magically rebuffed as a field of invisible force prevented them from gaining purchase with their crowbars. Believing a magical lock upon the valves, the party made plans to return with Anwar and his knock spell.

A corridor exited the stairs room to the west, but it was discovered that this corridor was blocked by an unknown amount of fallen stone, evidence of a cave-in. Another set of doors stood in the southern wall of the corridor, but these too displayed signs of being magically sealed. What to do now?

After some discussion and a little dissention, it was decided that a brief sojourn down to the fourth level of the dungeon was in order. “Just one room,” Mars Markus begged, his parchment and ink held ready to map the unexplored depths. With a sigh of acquiescence, the party descended the stairs, passing not one, not two, but three separate landings as they went—a distance never before encountered in between levels. Were they actually headed to the fourth level or someplace deeper?

The stairs terminated in a large chamber with a sandy floor. Several stone pillars carved in the shapes of tree trunks vanished into the gloom above and a low stone wall formed a barrier near the center of the room. The party edged their way into the chamber, stopping suddenly when Hoover’s ears detected the sound of skittering feet on the sand.

From out of the darkness advanced a single, dun-colored scorpion of gigantic size. More clicking in the gloom indicated that the beast was not alone. It charged at the party, moving much faster than they expected a creature of that size to advance, and lashed out at poor Mock with its claws and stinging barb. The half-orc dodged the blows, but when another two giant scorpions skittered into view and attacked from the sides, a general call for retreat back up the stairs was announced.

As the party fled, barely avoiding grasping claws and stinging tails as they dodged around pillars and sacrificed shields to save their lives, they discovered that there was no way they could out-run the insectile menaces. Their only hope was to battle on the stairs so that they could face a single creature at a time. Hoover and Mock formed a shield wall across the flight of steps, as Lyrax fired arrows from behind them. Mars and Waren stood at ready to heal those injured in battle. Krunk fled for his life, leaving his comrades to perish alone on the stairs.

The fight was pitched as the party battled for their lives. A single misstep could kill them, as the scorpions’ poison cared not how resilient one was in battle. Hoover take a nasty wound from one of the beast’s gripping claws, collapsing into unconsciousness from his wounds. Mars dragged the fallen ranger to safety as Waren strode forth to seal the breach. Mock and Lyrax downed one of the creatures with sword and arrow, but another took its place.

With the fighting desperately continuing before them, Mars called upon the power of Mog to heal Hoover’s injuries, restoring just enough health to awaken the ranger and allow him to unlimber his bow and begin launching arrows at the remaining creatures.

The second scorpion fell, and with two of its slain brethren blocking the stairs, the last great arachnid was slowed in its advance, allowing the party to launch another volley at the beast, weakening it as it came. Krunk, deciding that the reduction in screaming from below indicated the party was winning, decided to return to the battle just as the rest of party, blooded and blistered from the creatures’ venom, overcame the last of the scorpion threats.

It was decided that the exploration of the fourth level of Stonehell could wait for another date far, far in the future.

The party, suffering from its wounds, decided to make their way back to the first level of the dungeon in order to either return to town or explore the crypts to the east. They achieved the stair room on the first level without incident, but decided to pause there to bind their wounds and quaff some wine. Why, I really couldn’t say…

As they kept an eye out for wandering creatures, a voice spoke out of the darkness to the south. “What have we here?” it inquired. “Bold adventurers, perhaps?” The party stared into the darkness but no form was visible. “Who are you? Show yourself!” Lyrax challenged.

The voice came closer, but its owner remained hidden. “You look like you’ve had some trouble. Is there anything I could do for you?”

Thus began the party’s first meeting with Ichabod, an imp who made his home in the dungeon depths. The minor devil was very forthcoming with his purpose: He was more than willing to help out the adventurers if they needed some assistance, asking nothing but an oath that they had sought his aid by their own free will. The imp, who revealed himself to be a 2’ tall, blue-skinned and bat-winged humanoid, explained that he was working his way up the ranks of Hell and providing assistance to the brave and goodly-hearted benefited his standing amongst devils. So, if there was anything the party needed (“The location of a large treasure hoard? The resting place of a magical blade, perhaps? Maybe even the location of the backdoor to the kobold king’s chambers?”), he’d be willing to do his best to make it happen.

Despite Ichabod’s best efforts to convince them otherwise, the party refused to ask his assistance. The imp shrugged and predicted they’d regret it at some point, but should they ever change their minds, they should shout out his name and he might—just might—hear them and come see them. With a snap of his talons, the imp vanished. The party largely agreed to keep the imp and his offer a secret from Anwar.

The party, now rested if not recouped, headed back towards the H Room. As they reached a crossroad they regularly bypassed, Mars proposed that they try the adjacent corridors to see where they led. The Pit of Constant Annoyance and a method to avoid it had been on the party’s collective mind since they first encountered the hazard, and Mars was most vocal in mapping a route around it. Feeling a little bolder now that they were closer to the surface, the party agreed and headed to the east. Not far down that corridor, they discovered a chamber bearing two 8’ tall stone statues pointing at one another accusingly, an exit on the far wall between them. Their distrust of this set-up was well founded, as poking the floor with their pole caused a blast of electricity to flash in between the statues. More prodding revealed that this hazard seemed to be endless in power.

Their explorations, however, attracted the attention of another group of Stonehell’s residents. From out of the darkness across the room, a trio of humanoid creatures edged cautiously. Chalk-white ,with eyes as large as saucers, poor clothing, and stringy hair, the men-like beings told the party to go away and leave them in peace. The party offered assistance to the strange creatures, asking if they could use anything from the surface world, as they passed this way quite regularly. After a shared wineskin demonstrated their good intentions, the Society learned that these strange, nameless creatures were escaped slaves. They had fled their masters, a race they called “the Vrilya,” who dwelled deep in the dungeon in order to seek sanctuary on the upper levels. Now they simply wished to be left alone, but wouldn’t mind wine and weapons of iron and steel. Other than learning that these creatures preferred a wine made from “fishy eggs” found deep underground, these being remained an enigma to the party, but they agreed to maybe stop in with trade goods from time to time. Leaving the pallid creatures to their own devices, the party headed back the way they came and explored the western passage.

They encountered no danger down that corridor, but did find a cistern, a set of stairs leading down, an odd idol, and a pair of unopened doors. They also learned that the passage eventually connected with the room bearing the poisonous fountain and therefore the H Room. A passage that avoided the Pit had at last been found! Huzzah!

To celebrate this navigation victory, a spin of the Wheel of Fortune was in order. Waren benefited well, finding that his strength was increased permanently. Mock suffered a slowness of action, resulting in him acting last in any combat for a short time. Krunk was unable to spin the Wheel at all, leaving the party to believe there might be a daily limit on the Wheel’s function. And so the party went home.

With but a single day remaining before their river trip, the party decided to make one last excursion into the dungeon in order to explore the crypts. Leaving Hoover, Krunk, Mock, and Waren back in town to train, a new party comprised of Baragkus, Grumble, Korlack, Lyrax, Mars, and Raijek descended into the dungeon to face its challenges.

They swiftly reached the crypts without incident, breaching the danse macabre-decorated doors and entering the antechamber where they had battled fire beetles and zombies once before. Grumble, recalling his demise in that battle, shuddered. The plan was to find the route that Korlack had taken through the crypts when he and his former companions had been attacked here weeks ago. This route led to the back door to Barkruf-Yip-Yip. I sense a reckoning is on the horizon.

Passing through the antechamber, the party soon found a south-bound passage that lay roughly in the direction of Korlack’s flight. This corridor passed through an archway into the first of a series of 20’ square crypts that formed a hive-like maze. The crypt was bare aside from several piles of skulls. When these proved to cover no treasure, the party moved south to one of two doors exiting the crypt.

As Baragkus and Raijek attempted to open the door, a vaguely humanoid thing composed of ragged pieces of shroud, yellowing bones, shadows, and dust emerged from the door behind the party, ready to strike at the living that disturbed its rest. Mars brought up his arachnid symbol and sent the thing fleeing under the baleful power of Mog. But, as the party’s attentions were turned in that direction, the door they had been struggling to open suddenly swung aside to reveal a band of six zombies that shuffled forth to surprise the front ranks. Mog sent two of the creatures fleeing, and the rest fell after a short melee.

Breathing a sigh of relief (and looting a silver brooch off of one of the slain zombies), the party glimpsed another door leading out of the room to the south. Beyond this lay a short corridor, one they suspected to be trapped, but proved safe. A door beckoned at the end of the hall, revealing another 20’ square mausoleum beyond it.

This crypt was different. A noticeable chill hung in the air and great piles of yellowed bones filled the space. A thin slime clung to some of the bones, but the room seemed unoccupied. With another door in the south wall calling them, the party crossed the chamber.

With a loud cracking sound and the cacophony of a dead man’s bed collapsing, the party witnessed a horrible, asymmetrical humanoid shape assemble itself from the discarded bones. With three fists of splintering bones as it weapons, this undead thing began assaulting the party. Mars was able to repel the beast, forcing it into the corner of the chamber. Sensing this thing would continue to pose a threat to the party, Raijek, Grumble, and Baragkus charged at the creature, breaking the cleric’s command over it. The three earned splintering bones to the face for their efforts.

Despite the fearsome aspect of the thing, the combined efforts of the party’s fighters were sufficient to tumble the creature back into its composite parts, leaving a heap of slime-drenched bones on the crypt floor. As the last of the bones fell inert, the band glimpsed the gleam of precious metals mixed amongst the remains. Shuffling the bones aside, the party found a small fortune in copper burial trinkets, several thousand silver guilders, and three pieces of golden jewelry. Loading up their sacks and thanking Chance for her blessings, the party turned back the way they came and returned to Blackpool to prepare for their morning voyage…

Watchfires & Thrones Session #33

Every now and then, especially in long campaigns, there comes a meeting when paperwork simply needs to be done. With the massive haul from last session now burning a hole in the PCs’ pouches, we spent the first half of this session re-equipping, cashing in jewelry, arranging for letters of credit, and scheduling training for the party. Finally, with two hours left in our scheduled session, we got down to dungeoneering.

After attending to business, the party headed to the keep to report the success of their mission to Say’skel the Mottled. The magic-wielding seneschal was pleased to learn that the hobgoblin menace of Stonehell had been eradicated (although the question of whether reinforcements are on their way remains unanswered for the moment) and awarded each of the party the agreed upon 100 gold marks.

The magic-user produced an almanac from his library and was quickly able to convert the date listed in the captured missives to that of the common calendar. The 18th day of Bile and Horn, the date of the meeting with the human traitor, “J”, and the hobgoblin warlord, corresponds to the 25th day of The Bloom, which was only five days away. If the party wanted to arrive at the Citadel of Iron Might and Furious Devotion in time to strike down the hobgoblin command and capture the traitor, a boat ride was in order. Luckily, the Mottled Mage had the resources to arrange such a journey and informed the group that their ship would be leaving in two days.

With some time to kill (and a generous offer from yours truly to reduce training times if they were brave enough to risk their lives one last time before leveling), the party decided to take a day trip back to Stonehell and see if they could expand their map of the place. After Krunk’s suggestion to ransack the Quiet Halls was outvoted, the party decided to travel to the third level of the massive delve, leaving the berserker to sulk in the rear ranks of the party—he wasn’t willing to risk his life on point if he didn’t get his way.

The party reached the dungeon without incident, although the angry chittering of rats was heard when they paused to hide their ladder in their usual disused room. Looking to test their steel against more challenging foes, the party ignored the rodents and headed towards the one staircase they knew reached deeper into the dungeon. This would put them back in the halls so firmly held by the kobolds and their hired goons.

But the dungeon had a small surprise for them. The party has become pretty blasé about their route to and from the lower levels, expecting it to remain the same outside of the occasional wandering monster. Imagine their surprise when they discovered that the portcullis chamber through which they so often pass now showed the signs of others busy at work in the dungeon.
In the middle of the room, an iron spike had been driven into the floor and a 5’ length of rope attached to it. The line ran toward the south exit, a passage which was known to contain a covered pit. The rope looked as if it had been cut, but there were no other signs of violence or activity. Is there some other group at large in the dungeon, one whom the Society has not yet met, or is this the work of the denizens of Stonehell?

Putting this conundrum behind them, the party moved towards the stairs again, their eyes and ears straining for danger—and sure enough, they found it. As they approached the guard room by the stairs, they discovered that the bugbears had been replaced by a hulking brute with a massive club in his enormous fist. An ogre!

“Hi! What’cho want?” it inquired.

“Get ready to die,” said Krunk from the safety of the rear ranks. The ogre scowled and charged.

Before it could close upon the characters, Mars Markus produced his holy symbol and the creature found itself bound in the celestial web of Mog, held fast where it stood. With the threat now neutralized, Krunk decided it was safe to attack the brute and strode into the room…only to discover the ogre had pet!

From out of the gloomy corner of the room came a long, sticky tongue that wrapped itself around the berserker and began dragging Krunk to the waiting mouth of a giant toad. The rest of the party, unaware of the lurking danger, charged towards the ogre and began to hack away at its unmoving mass.

Back in the corner, Krunk tried to step away from the warty amphibian, straining against the pull of its adhesive tongue so that he might better employ the pole-arm he bore. With immense effort, he resisted the pull of the tongue, but was much displeased to learn that he had only succeeded in pulling the toad towards him.

Meanwhile, the rest of the band had dispatched the poor defenseless ogre who had only wanted to make some new friends.

As the rest of the party rushed to the barbarian’s aid, the ogre’s pet toad was unable to breach the berserker’s armor and, after a few more moments of battle, Krunk brought down the head of his Bohemian Ear Spoon onto the creature to dispatch it. The party stood triumphant in the shadowy dungeon room. When a quick search of the ogre’s body turned up nothing of value, they pressed on toward the lower levels.

Nothing stood baring their passage on the second level, so it was an easy enough matter to descend the second set of steps to reach the third and completely unexplored level. After some debate over whether the party had indeed discovered the third level and not the fourth (thanks to a small error by the referee), the band began to explore the area in earnest.

The stairs had terminated in a 50’ square chamber with exits in the north, east, and south walls. A pool of dirty, dank water stood in the center of the room. At the middle of the pool, situated atop a low platform, was a 10’ cube that stood on one corner. Ignoring this piece of window dressing, the party scouted each exit. To the north, the corridor opened into a small chamber, one that seemed to bear several statues. To the east, the corridor turned both north and south after a small distance. To the south, the passage abruptly headed west.

Choosing the southern route, the party quickly came across a high-ceilinged room whose upper reaches were shrouded in old webbing. Ancient debris lay scattered across the floor, but the room was otherwise empty. After several tests seemed to indicate that the ceiling webs were empty of arachnid occupants, Mock and Hoover were sent ahead with a 10’ pole to explore the room and the passage which exited through the far wall. Their probing found no traps or treasure and the corridor beyond ran to the extent of their infravision before seeming to open into a larger space. Regrouping, the party pushed on.

At the corridor’s end, they found a roughly wedge-shaped room that bore numerous pillars, a staircase leading deeper into the dungeon, and a pair of imposing looking double-doors. Hoover’s eyes were able to detect the signs of regular traffic to and from these stairs, leaving the party to suspect they had found a major traffic thoroughfare between dungeon levels. Mock placed an ear carefully against the door but detected nothing. Not willing to try the door or risk the stairs (and possibly the fourth level), the party gave the room a quick going over before returning back to the entrance room of the current level.

Returning there, the party now headed east to discover that the southern turn in the passage ended in a door, while the northern bend lead to an oval room that contained another of those strange obelisks covered in arcane writing. As with the one they had found on the second level, the air here was much fresher and the floor was bare of any dust or dirt. Careful searching found nothing of interest so the band returned to the door they had passed.

Passing through the valve, the party discovered a 30’ square room, one completely bare of decoration or contents. Suspicious, Mock cautiously probed the floor with his pole, edging his way around the walls. Suddenly, his pole depressed a loose stone and the party watched in amazement as an entire 20’ square section of floor flipped over to reveal a trio of bunks, a table and chairs, and an empty fire pit all affixed to the underside of the room’s floor. Whether the purpose of these inviting, yet secret furnishings was provide comfort or danger was unknown, so the party gave them a wide berth…for now.

Since we had run out of time for the session, and an absent player would be returning the following week, the party decided to beat feet back to Blackpool and allow those party members who had acquired the needed experience to rise in level to train. Next week will either see another quick trip back to the dungeon before they head upriver to battle the hobgoblins in their own home or witness the party heading directly to the docks to set sail. Let me know what’s more likely so that I can put my limited prep time to its best use.

Watchfires & Thrones Session #32

The party paused to bind their wounds and catch their breaths after their victory over Commander Kura and his elite hobgoblin guardsmen. The pair of keys they liberated from the commander’s belt indicated that something lay behind locks somewhere in the Redoubt and treasure was the most likely candidate for needing security. The party exited the now-bloodstained mess hall to further explore the lair.

A clean but barren infirmary was found, allowing the adventurers to stock up on mundane healing supplies as well as a hobgoblin “medicine stick” (an item which initial experimentation deemed non-magical). Moving west they encountered an empty guard post that seemed to contain the much-sought after back door to the Redoubt, followed by a bare prison cell further south. Near the gaol, the passage made an abrupt turn to end at a blank wall. Their suspicions raised, the party began to search for hidden doors.

Mock discovered that the wall did indeed pivot and opened the secret door cautiously. Beyond was a disused bedchamber, its hundred-plus years-old furniture rickety and dust-laden. Faded broadsheets advertising pit fights and the brutal warriors who earned their living on the sands adorned the walls. A chest stood near the secret entrance, and it was to this container that Krunk turned his attentions (and 10’ pole).

As the berserker prodded and pushed at the chest’s lid, the rest of the party watched in horror as two gloomy forms stepped from the flickering shadows to attack. These creatures were black as pitch and devoid of features, looking like horrible silhouettes with evil intentions. The pair converged on Krunk, but he was able to retreat without injury. Waren and Aieglos brought up their holy symbols and attempted to drive the creature away from the party, but their efforts had no effect. Had their gods abandoned them in their time of need?

Mock strode to the front of the line, wielding Froghammer in his grasp. With a grunt, he shredded the first shadow to ethereal ribbons with the enchanted blade, sundering its incorporeal form and sending it back to whatever foulness birthed it. The rest of the band’s attacks proved to be less effective against the remaining shadow, passing through its form without effect.

As the party retreated back through the secret door, the shadow touched Mock and the half-orc barbarian felt his strength begin to desert him as a chill settled into his bones. Krunk slammed the portal shut in the creature’s featureless ebony face and Anwar read quickly from a prepared scroll, sealing the door with his magicks to prevent the creature from opening it and following the party’s retreat. As the enchantment limned the door, the party breathed a collective sigh of relief.

That’s when the shadow stepped THROUGH the sealed door and continued it attacks!

Mock took another blow, weakening him yet again, but despite the chill, he has able to bring his sword up before him. As the rest of the party moved further away from the melee, Mock slashed twice. Like a mist before the wind, the shadow’s form flickered and dissipated. The party was victorious!

But they had locked themselves out of the room for an hour and a half.

Vowing to return, the party head back to the east, tentatively making their way through the “discotheque” and heading south through an empty guard post. The corridor before them contained a trio of doors, each of which they carefully breached. One was an armory, another a storeroom, while the third was Commander Kura’s own quarters.

The commander’s chamber held a table littered with maps, battle plans, and communiqués. Amongst these was a pair of letters. One was from the hobgoblin warlord and would-be emperor Zoka, who regretfully told the commander of Stonehell’s hobgoblins that the promised reinforcements would not be arriving do to unforeseen circumstances. Apparently, the hobgoblins’ weapon supplier, an unnamed human, has allowed the latest shipment to fall into the hands of raiders. Zoka had summoned the human agent to the “Citadel of Iron Might and Furious Devotion” on the “18th day of Bile and Horn” to explain himself and to discuss how to correct this situation. Zoka hinted that the human would survive his audience, but that Kura should explore the feasibility of removing human agents from the hobgoblins’ supply chain and replacing them with more trustworthy (a.k.a. hobgoblin) allies.

The second letter was from the aforementioned human agent, identified solely as “J”, explaining that the weapon shipment had been lost when an outside factor raided the agents who were responsible for delivering the arms to the hobgoblins. The weapons were deemed unrecoverable, as they were now likely in the possession of either these unnamed raider or their superiors. “J” revealed he would be meeting with Warlord Zoka to improve security and indicated that he would meet with Commander Kura on their “usual neutral ground” in the days after the audience. The dates in this letter again referred to the month of Bile and Horn.

Aieglos, with his command of the hobgoblin tongue was able to deduce that the month of Blood and Horn was a period on the goblin calendar that roughly coincided with the current month of The Bloom. The day numerations were not identical, so there was some uncertainty as to when the 18th day fell, but the party suspects with some careful planning, they may be able to assault the hobgoblin fortress on Hob’s Hill so as to catch the human traitor as well. More research would have to be undertaken when the returned to town. The party laid claim to their first map of the northeastern region of the Kinan-M’Nath from amongst the commander’s paper as well—a resource that will assist them greatly in the weeks to come.

All this intelligence paled in comparison to the contents of the strongbox that was found beneath the commander’s large campaign bed. With a twist of one of the looted keys, the party laid eyes on a sizeable sum of treasure—six thousand gold marks and a few pieces of jewelry to be exact. Triumphant and gleeful, the party laden themselves with booty and headed out of the room.

A brief peek to the south revealed the elite hobgoblins’ barracks and an east-bound passage that showed signs of someone or something breaking through the corridor’s stone walls. A cursory glance was all the party had time for, as their calculations indicated that Anwar’s hold portal spell was about to expire. The party hurried back the way they came, returning to the secret door just as the magic faded away.

In the pit fighter’s room, the chest that Krunk had been examining when the shadows attacked proved to be a disappointment, but a dusty tapestry occluded richer fare. In niches hidden behind the hanging fabric lay three massive chests. After nearly falling victim to one of the chest’s traps, the party was astounded to find more coinage than they had ever seen in their lives. Mixed amongst the silver, electrum, and gold were a few glass vials and ornamental pieces of jewelry. The party began unloading every spare piece of equipment they carried so as to be able to haul the treasure up to the surface. It took some doing, but, much like the old “fox, chicken, and chicken feed” conundrum, with some effort and calculations, the party could get every last coin out of the dungeon. Of course, only Warren and Aieglos would have a weapon in hand and the party’s progress would be at a snail’s pace, but it could be done.

The party left the Redoubt, straining under the great weight but joyous, and headed towards the surface. As they reached the landing between the second and first levels, they paused to plan. They knew that there had been a group of bugbears lounging just outside the scene of the party-induced kobold massacre for some time. Each foray down to the second level, the bugbears let them pass without incident, merely smiling a little too much and snickering whenever the party left with another dead companion. The adventurers suspected that they wouldn’t get past the bugbears so easily this time, not with such an obvious fortune in their hands. The party began debating on how to approach this problem, sending Krunk with torch up to the first level to see if the bugbears were still at their posts. The barbarian poked his head up over the stairs, his torch burning brightly in the dungeon gloom, and saw two bugbears eyeing him with interest from the room beyond. The berserker quickly turned and descended back down the stairs.

The party began to debate—loudly—amongst themselves as to the best course of action. It was finally decided that they would send three of the fighters ahead without treasure to try and launch a surprise attack on the bugbears, hoping to dispatch them quickly before gathering up the treasure and limping quickly to the surface. Aieglos, Mock, and Hoover ascended the stairs…but found that the bugbears had vanished. Shit.

The trio returned and the party decided to risk running (crawling, actually) the gauntlet. With sacks in hand and backpacks near leaking, the party reached the first level and made a beeline for the surface, expecting an attack at any time. They had made good progress when they reached the portcullis they needed to bypass before having a straight shot back to the H Room.

“Well, well, well,” a gruff voice chuckled from the darkness as the party reached the lowered gate blocking their way. “What have we here?”

Stepping out of the gloom behind them was a quartet of bugbears backed up by five kobolds bearing javelins. It was an obvious stick-up job so the party discarded parley after a brief attempt and drew their weapons. The bugbears and kobolds launched themselves at the party.

As the two forces locked in combat, one of the bugbears and the kobolds ran south down the T-intersection near the portcullis. It was obvious that they intended to cut off the party’s retreat to the surface. And although this division of forces left the party facing only three bugbears, the giant goblinoids’ first attack struck down Hoover, sending the ranger into unconsciousness and rapidly approaching death. Krunk, Waren, and Mock ran to the back of the party to hold off the bugbears, leaving scrawny Anwar to handle lifting the portcullis. Aieglos sent arrows flying at the bugbear in the rear rank. The party honestly believed that they had met their doom in Stonehell.

The fighters and bugbears clashed at the rear, with wounds taken on both side. Anwar struggled to raise the gate, failing once before his feeble body, strengthened by adrenaline and fear, lifted the iron bars above his head. He stood there, his legs trembling under the weight, and gave serious thought to abandoning his comrades to their fate. Aieglos began shoving bags of treasure under the gate as quickly as he could.

At the rear of the party, the adventurers slowly began to gain the upper hand. Finally, thanks to the “Chop While They Drop” rule and really lousy bugbear hit points, the party dispatched the last of their assailants and quickly gathered up their belongings. A healing potion was poured down Hoover’s throat to get him ambulatory. As they dashed through the portcullis and turned north, a flurry of javelins came flying out of the gloom to their south. The kobolds had flanked them and now stood on the far side of a pit trap hurling their tiny missiles. A few struck home, but thanks to the scaly dog-men’s abysmal strength, only minor damage was inflicted. The party threw all caution to the wind and ran blindly towards where they secreted their ladder, hoping to get out of the dungeon before a wandering monster check indicated they met something on their flight to safety.

Finding their ladder where they left it, the party finally reached the Pit of Sheer Annoyance and began to slowly cross it. From the heavens above, some not-quite-benign deity started laughing maniacally and reached into his celestial miniatures case.

Mock and Waren had reached the far side of the pit when the sound of moaning and the stench of rotting flesh assailed them. Mock’s infravision detected nothing and the party’s lantern was on the far side of the pit, leaving the duo in darkness. When the party finally got a torch lit and handed it across the covered trap, the barbarian and cleric found themselves about to be over-shambled by seven zombies!

Waren was able to send three of the loathsome things fleeing before his god’s might, leaving Mock to dispatch the remainder with the help of Krunk, who had dashed across the pit. All the while, the rest of the party continued hauling loaded sacks across their increasingly-worn ladder. As the last zombie fell, the party struggled up the stairs and into the fresh air and fading light of late afternoon. Wearily and slowly, they headed back to town, cringing each time a die was rolled to check for wandering monsters. But Chance was with them and they reached the town of Blackpool after sundown on the 19th day of The Bloom.

Thus ended the first game session of 2011. I sense a spending spree on the horizon…

The Haul

This is for my players.

So that you’re aware of what you pulled out of the dungeon on this last delve, here is the breakdown after taking the time back at the Mad Manor to sort through it all:

11,000 silver guilders
5,000 electrum suns
13,000 gold marks
1 silver nose ring
1 silver & platinum necklace
1 gold necklace with onyx stones
1 gold pinkie ring
1 gold & silver bracer
3 gold & silver pectorals
1 gaudy helmet
1 vial of purple & silver liquid
1 vial of clear oil
1 vial of brown liquid
1 jar of milky white leaves
1 scroll of ward against undead
1 magic-user scroll containing two spells
1 detailed map of the northeastern lands of the Kinan-M’Nath

Not bad for a day’s work.

Watchfires & Thrones Session #31

And so we gathered for the last session of 2010. It was nice to end the year on a triumphant note and I think we’re all waiting to see what the next half of the campaign has in store for us.

The party lifted Rondo’s body from off the flagstones and headed for the surface. Their healing spells were exhausted, their bodies wounded, and a comrade had been slain. Enough was enough. They reached the H room without incident, but, as they’ve demonstrated in the past, the lure of the Wheel of Fortune proved too difficult to resist. They headed south; passing through a room marred by bloodstains and scorched flooring. A mystic voice had spoken to them in this chamber once before and it did so again. This time, an angry tone declared, “The Crucible lies behind the door that cannot be reached! There it shall stay until Xograti admits defeat!” Hmm, what could that mean?

The party reached the Wheel of Fortune without further incident and it was Anwar who chose to tempt Chance’s Whims. As a result, he found himself slightly better protected against the attacks of his enemies—for a day, that it. No one else felt up to risking their lives and the party returned to Blackpool.

Arriving back at the Mad Manor, the staff showed concern over the death of Rondo. The Manor’s proprietor, Templeton Naz, produced a letter written by the dead dwarf that had been entrusted into his care. The missive stated that, in the event of his death, almost all of Rondo’s worldly possessions would go to whomever returned his body to his family’s crypt in the dwarven city of Dro-Baan Khaz, located some days’ travel in the heart of the Mossback Mountains. The party tentatively agreed to do this after the hobgoblin menace had been addressed and so a sadden Big Bull, the Manor’s bouncer and handyman, took the slain dwarf down to the boarding house’s cold storage room.

The party spent the rest of the day reorganizing. Grumble had achieved enough renown to train and would be attending the War College for the next six day. The hobbit, Kubik, departed to see if he could find if and where his light-fingered brethren might reside in Blackpool. Baragkus headed into town to speak with Doran the Wondersmith, who had been working on adapting the strange crossbow that the fighter had wrested from the weird roachmen of the Black Gut back on the world of the Rotted Moon. Dorran was delighted to see the warrior and proposed a business agreement: in exchange for 250 gold marks and a lifetime supply of the serrated disks the weapon launched (“Dorran’s Death Disks”™), he would buy both the weapon and permission to manufacture more of these exotic arbalests. He’d even make a new and improved weapon especially for the fighter’s personal stature for free! Baragkus heartily agreed and decided to forego the next day’s journey to the dungeon for a well-earned debauch in town.

The following morning saw a party consisting of Aieglos, Anwar, Hoover, Krunk, a now fully revitalized Mock, and Waren departing for the dungeon. Their plan was to stop the hobgoblin threat once and for all. They would risk the portcullis and the mysterious “spout” to attack the lair head-on since their attempts to find a rear entrance into the redoubt had failed. The party reached the dungeon without incident, passed through the Speaking Room again to see if it would impart more nuggets of wisdom (it did: “Oh my bones! They gnarl like roots! I should have never spun that Wheel!”), and ultimately reached the second level safely.

On the lower level, they found the entrance chamber to be empty of sentries or ambushing patrols—a first for them. This lack of sentries bold emboldened and unnerved the party. Had they slain so many hobgoblins that they were now cowering in their den or were they lying in wait somewhere else?

The party proceeded directly towards their chosen portcullis to assault the lair only to hear it grind open as they approached. A hobgoblin squad had been dispatched to, err, dispatch the intruders and the party made easy targets with their torches. After suffering through a hail of missiles, the band closed with the hobgoblins and battle commenced. Unfortunately, they found themselves assaulted on two fronts as hobgoblin spearmen attacked from a side corridor, leaving Mock to face several foes at once. Luckily, Anwar’s sleep spell managed to drop all but one of the goblinoid enemies and the last was quickly slain. During the battle, however, the portcullis from which the squad had emerged ratcheted closed, leaving Mock and Krunk to wrest it open again.

Behind the gate was an odd chamber. Two 20’ deep, spiked pits were separated by a narrow walkway. On the far side of the pits stood three hobgoblin bowmen, their bows drawn back with arrows nocked. A fourth stood behind a strange metal framework covered by armored plating. The circular mouth of a pipe-like object protruded towards the party. This must be “the spout.” Arrows began whizzing through the air at Mock and Krunk as the rest of the party scrambled into position. The assault on the Hobgoblin Redoubt had begun at last!

As Mock suffered several arrows hits, Aieglos and Hoover returned fire at the hobgoblins, dropping one of them. Anwar cloaked himself in invisibility and moved into the chamber to get all the bowmen in his sight. Once in position, he put the remaining three hobgoblins to sleep and the party charged across the narrow bridge to dispatch the sleeping guards.

Arriving on the far side of the pits, they had no time to slit the throats of their sleeping enemies because reinforcements were charging down the hall to meet them. A cursory look at “the spout” revealed that it couldn’t be turned around to point inside the Redoubt so battle commenced in the honored way of face-to-face fighting. In the battle, Krunk’s growing rage finally got the best of him and the berserker unleashed a slew of attacks upon the new hobgoblin arrivals. Assisted ably by his comrades, the reinforcements quickly joined their sleeping comrades on the floor and the battle ended in victory for the party.

The band took the time to bind their wounds , slay the sleeping, and quaff some wine. The spout was examined and it was revealed that the pipe-like object was in truth an urn of curious design. Words written on the base of the ewer danced like flames, indicating that they were magical in origin. The urn was bolted into place but could be removed with some effort, but the party was largely for destroying the object. In the end, it was decided to “destroy it on the way out.” The party moved down the hall from which the reinforcements had come, seeing at least one door down that passage. From the map they had gotten based on the interrogation of the hobgoblin prisoner, they knew that door to be a barracks and approached with caution.

As they reached the door, however, a hobgoblin voiced cried out from the darkness further down the hallway, “Romulus and Remus: Kill!” From out of the gloom sprang two war mountain lions, their necks encircled with spiked collars, their bodies clad in light barding. The feline duo leapt upon Mock and Hoover with the intent of ripping the two to Fancy Feast. Despite the threat the two war cats presented, luck was with the party and their claws only inflicted incidental damage before feline threats were put down by sword and spear.

An arrow sang out of the dark, nicking poor Mock. This enticed the majority of the party to run into the darkness to confront the hidden archer, Mock and Waren remaining behind to heal the bloodied half-orc. The party emerged into a 30’ square room with three doors along the south wall. A sole hobgoblin stood at the far end of the chamber, short bow in hand. The distance was not enough to close in a single round, so the band found themselves in the middle of the room when six hobgoblins poured out of two of the southern doors for more battle!

This was one of those “uh oh” moments for the players, one that found them thinking that perhaps they had bitten off more than they were prepared to swallow. At an earlier point in the campaign, an encounter like this would have likely resulted in half the party dying before the other half retreated, but they’ve learned well from earlier failures. They broke into groups to hold back the hobgoblins and were able to turn back the assault without too much overall damage. When the battle ended, they explored each of the three doors to find that they led to the “killing field” entrance to the Redoubt, meaning that the party had a clear line of retreat back to the stairs now should things go against them.

The party discovered another door that seemed to mirror the barracks’ door they had been interrupted in opening so they proceeded to spend the next several turns exploring these areas. Although both barracks were empty of hobgoblins and treasure, they did find a mysterious pink potion in the footlocker of one of the sub-leaders of the Redoubt. Pocketing it for later, they moved deeper into the lair after tending to their growing number of wounds.

An empty guard room awaited them further down the hall. Consulting their map, they determined that there was a medic’s quarters to the north and elite barracks to the south. An unknown corridor extended to the east. Deciding to see if medical aid could be liberated from the infirmary, they ventured north.

At the end of the north passage they found a bizarre chamber. The floor was lined in 1’ square white tiles and a pair of pillars stood in niches in along one wall. Each pillar was adorned with numerous crystal lenses. Hoover’s eyes detected a faint trail that led along the room’s eastern and northern walls and it was by this path that the party cautiously advanced. They reached the exit of the chamber without incident, but Krunk decided to poke the tiles to see if a response could be evoked from the pillars. His first attempt produced a beam of light that struck him with no visible effect. His second effort caused him to be burned by a heat beam for minor damage. Deciding that he had enough, the party moved on to investigate what was marked as a dining hall on their map.

The dining hall and attached kitchen were both empty, but their search of the pantry discovered a piece of crystal hanging inside a small iron cage. The crystal produced a field of cold air that kept the contents of the panty from spoiling. Pocketing the crystal with the intent to sell it, the band rested, ate a quick repast, then headed back to the corridor. Unfortunately for them, as they had engaged in the search of the panty and enjoyed their brief lunch, the elite hobgoblin guard, led by Commander Kura himself, has moved into position in the dining hall and was awaiting their return.

Things looked bad for the party. They were worn down and not expecting this fight, but they had neglected to post a guard while they ate so the hobgoblins had them bottled up tight. The wisdom of barricading themselves in the kitchen was briefly discussed, but discarded (quote of the game out of context: “The hobgoblins have wrenches.”). With nothing left to do but fight, the party charged the elite hobgoblin warriors.

This could have easily ended up killed the entire party or at least imprisoning them except for two things: 1) Krunk went berserker again and enjoyed a +2 bonus to his attacks, and 2) Mock drank the mysterious pink potion, which turned out to be a potion of heroism. The now 5th-level fighter with an addition 15 hit points and only needing a “7” to hit the hobgoblins waded into battle. The result was dead hobgoblins everywhere. Even their ability to strike as 4 and 5 HD monsters and above average hit points couldn’t save them. In typical fashion, the party called for Commander Kura to surrender seconds before they killed him. Pausing to catch their breath, they looted a small number of coins from the bodies, but also found that Commander Kura wore a gaudy helmet and owned a potion of purple and silver liquid. He also possessed a set of keys, leading the party to think that somewhere in the Redoubt was a chest brimming with treasure. Krunk put the helmet on his head before rest of the party could warn the berserker of the dangers of putting on strange headgear, and we ended the last session of 2010 there.

After doling out the experience points for this session, everyone but Hoover the Ranger gained a level, (and even the woodsman was only 150 points shy of 3rd level). If we had another hour to explore the Redoubt, we could have put the hobgoblin lair entirely behind us and started 2011 on the next mission in the Hobgoblin War. Nevertheless, after all the initial deaths and becoming acquainted with both the game system and play style, it’s nice to see that the players have finally come into their own and that the lethal levels of 1-2 are safely behind almost every character now. I’m sincerely looking forward to taking the next two weeks off to recoup and prepare for the next nine months of gaming.

Recaps will return after January 9th, 2011. Happy New Year, everyone!

Watchfires & Thrones Session #30

I’ll be honest: I hit the wall about an hour before Sunday’s session wrapped-up and I’m still feeling a little crapped out when it comes to the creative fantasy bit. Let’s get this done, then.

Play resumed with the party standing at the T-intersection and Grumble investigating the sounds of SOMETHING coming down his branch of hallway. His infravision detected nothing; his ears barely heard the sound of trickling liquid coming from the gloom. He wisely rejoined the party and formed ranks just as three ghouls came clamoring into the light of the party’s torches.

Aieglos and Waren both called upon the power of their deities to repulse the unclean things, but failed to turn them away. This left them in the position to take the first of the ghouls’ blows and Waren fell to their paralytic claws. Aieglos suffered minor damage, but his elven blood was immune to the ghoulish pathogen. Despite these early injuries, my ghouls continue to fail miserably as threats and the party’s fighting men quickly dispatched the trio of hungry dead. Grumble threw Waren’s body into a mercenary’s carry and the band headed towards the surface to heal and strategize.

After they crossed the Pit of Inconvenience and before they reached the H Room, Anwar pleaded for the party to examine a closed door that they have passed several times. The desire to find a route that leads deeper into the dungeon and avoids the 10’ deep pit the party always needs to negotiate has been an ongoing concern for the sorcerer—he’s even made inquiries as to how much time and man-power would be required to excavate a passage around the pit.

Opening the door revealed an ancient living quarters. The decrepit bunks were caked with dust and the few footlockers that lay strewn around the floor showed signs of being looted in the dim past—except for one, that is. This suspiciously unopened container drew the party’s interest and Kubik the Thief was shuffled to the party’s front ranks to deal with the situation. A nearly half-hour process then began as the two hit point thief carefully made sure that the route to the box and the chest itself were trap-free. Only after he was sure no mantraps awaited the greedy did he pry open the rotted box. Inside were twenty chapbooks and a vial of dried ink. Although worth some gold to booksellers, one could only be disappointed after all the preliminary antics that led to the books’ discovery. About this time, Waren began to stir. The ghoul tetanus had worn off.

The party left the dungeon and return to Blackpool to find a small celebration was underway in the town square. Tuns of ale had been broached , a boar was turning on a spit, and a small group of minstrels played on a simple platform. The townsfolk were imbibing with relish—a much different atmosphere than had been hanging over the town since the rumors of a Storm Crow agent being discovered. When inquiries were made as to why the town was celebrating, the answer came that Azix Tsam, the local gray-man merchant and one-time patron of the party, had recently fallen into some unexpected money and was spending a portion of his windfall to revive the Blackpoolians’ falling morale. Groans erupted around the table as the players realized that Tsam’s windfall was from the Ghost Beggars’ treasury , the one which they never discovered during their exploration of the bandit lair. Despite this ill-met news, the fighting men of the party availed themselves to the free viands and even heard a drunken tale of a giant turtle devouring boats in the Murkmire Marsh north of town. Super Mario jokes were made and you can bet that this will be the last time I try and slip an adventure seed to you bastards! You’re on your own from here on out…I hope you like Stonehell.

After a round of healing and rest at the Mad Manor, the party reorganized and headed back to the dungeon minus Waren. Aside from a brief, uneventful run-in with a mountain lion watching them from the gate house’s battlements, the party returned to the second level of the dungeon without incident and began their plan to investigate the locked door they encountered and to continue to search for a back entrance to the hobgoblin lair. Tick, tock. Tick, tock…

Finding the entrance chamber to the second level empty of hobgoblin sentries, the party retraced their footsteps only to run into six of the creatures lying in ambush in the south corridor. Armed with spears, swords, and arrows, the hobgoblins were arrayed in such a way as to allow all of them to attack the party. These were no stupid, blood-thirsty orcs. The hobgoblins displayed keen military minds, and had it not been for a well-timed sleep spell, the encounter might have turned bad for the party quickly. The party collected some loot and departed the area with alacrity. The mysterious locked door awaited them nearby.

The locked door proved to be a mixed bag. They knocked the door open, but only to discover the room was a dusty and deserted storeroom. A strangely pink salt lick coated one wall and when Anwar tasted the salt, a horrible sensation wracked his body, leaving him feeling as if something grabbed his soul and twisted. He came out of incident unharmed, but perplexed. Two bags were then filled with the substance, totaling nearly 40 lbs. of the pink crystals. Poisoning a water supply was mentioned as a possible strategy, but let’s leave that aside for now.

The party encountered a quartet of giant toads as they departed the salty storeroom and Rondo was nearly devoured by one of the beasts. If they believed in omens, the party might have turned back then…

After dispatching the toads, the party soon found themselves back at the T-intersection they had started the session at and we called it a day. I kid, but it won’t be the first time I’ve had a group of players start and end a session in the exact same place.

The party pressed on north from there and, after a turn in the corridor, came into a large angled room. A herringbone pattern decorated the floor and the vaulted ceiling rose above them to end in pointed arches. From the darkness ahead, arrows began to rain down upon them. Charging into the gloom, they found another half-dozen hobgoblins waiting for them. Once again they faced an organized group and several wounds were received just getting into position where they could fight their orange-skinned opponents. Anwar’s sleep spell was negated by a hobgoblin arrow and the melee broke out in full. The party won the day and began to pick up on some of their opponents’ tactics. Ranks were rearranged and both arrows and spears were added to the party’s armory.

Past the angled room, the party found a strangely balanced pair of rooms at a crossroads. To the east lay a octagonal room whose sole decoration was a 12’ tall obelisk covered in occult sigils. The air in the room was surprisingly fresh and the floor remarkably clean. Speculation was made that this might form part of the dungeon’s ventilation system.

To the west was another octagonal room, but rather than an obelisk, this room held a 6’ tall metal pole tipped with an flag-like iron arrow. Another passage exited the room to the north. As the room seemed to lead away from where the party expected to find the hobgoblin lair’s back door, the room was left alone for the time being, but further exploration of its mysteries is intended.

A bit further down the corridor, a small, somewhat triangular room was discovered. A carving of a three-lobed eye looked down upon a dusty altar that bore a trio of brass scrolls. Malcolm Reynolds leaned into the corridor to shout, “Trap!”, and the party bypassed the shrine.

Just down the hall, the band caught sight of a low fire burning beyond a large archway in the corridor’s eastern wall. Surrounding the fire were a handful of the crazed human descendants of Stonehell’s original prison population. Knowing these base men to be cannibals, the party charged into action…and found three more of the evil men positioned in places they couldn’t see. Battle began to rage.

From the onset it was clear that Rondo and Baragkus, now at the front of the party, were in for the worst of it. Quickly surrounded, Rondo was being assailed on all sides and his blood rained onto floor in rivulets. With Aieglos’ prayers gone for the day, only scrolls remained to heal the wounded dwarf and the tide of battle was not allowing the elf time to move into position and ready the holy writs. Somewhere, perhaps in the Scrolls of Skelos, it is written that “when the magic-user has to draw a weapon and join in the battle and enemies are fought with a hand-held arrow, things have gone bad.”

The melee continued and the initiative dice continued to thwart the party. In fact, I don’t think they won initiative once during the entire session. Although superior to their enemies, the party had to endure a round of berserker attacks before they could return the favor and Rondo was suffering from this. Just before the last of Stonehell’s grim men fell under the party’s weapons, Rondo was slain and slumped to the cold flagstone floor. Silence fell over the party as they looked down on the body of their longtime comrade-in -arms.

We ended the session there.

Stonehell Actual Play Bonus Footage

Stonehell Dungeon Actual Play Parts 1-3

Watchfires & Thrones Session #29

The party returned to Blackpool, prisoner in tow, and headed straight to the keep to speak with Say’skel the Mottled. After unveiling their surprise guest for the high-browed mage, Say’skel instructed them to return to the Mad Manor as it would take a bit for him to prepare the proper incantations for interrogation.

For those of you playing along at home, Say'skel the Mottled looks a lot like that gentleman over there to the right. I'm a big V.P. fan.

Back at the adventurers’ boarding house, the party met the acquaintance of a new agent of fortune, a hobbit acquirer by the name of Kubik Silverpalm. Kubik recognized the fighting duo of Grumble and Krunk, remembering them from a bout they performed at his home village of Goodearth. After some flattery and negotiations, Kubik became the latest provisional member of the Society of Planewalkers.

The rest of the crew embarked on various side tasks: training, procuring new supplies, and seeing to the refurbishing of looted weapons long forgotten about. Before too much could be accomplished, though, a linkboy arrived at the Manor with word that Say’skel was prepared to meet with the adventurers. He had new intelligence to share.

Back at the keep, the party learned that their captured hobgoblin was but a foot soldier in the 6th Century, 9th Cohort of the Hobgoblin Occupational Army—a unit of roughly three dozen hobgoblins currently occupying part of the second level of Stonehell Dungeon. Led by Commander Kura, the hobgoblins were intent on turning the dungeon into a staging point for raids across the River Ahkyl and into the Principality of Dhrin. The hobgoblins were well-entrenched in the dungeon, having turned their portion of chambers and halls into a defended redoubt. In addition, they were expecting reinforcements that would double their numbers in a week’s time. If the hobgoblin threat of Stonehell was to be addressed, it needed to be done now. Say’skel then presented the party with a rough but expansive map of the hobgoblin fortress taken from the captive’s description of the place.

The party studied the map and decided that the best chance for infiltrating the redoubt was by way of a less guarded back door that lay towards the north end of the lair—although they did not know the route by which to reach this entrance. They speculated that, with a little searching of the surrounding dungeon areas, they may be able to deduce a path there. So, with that goal in mind, Aieglos, Anwar, Baragkus, Grumble, Krunk, Kubik, and Waren, joined once again by their semi-regular hireling, Rondo Fleagle, departed for the dungeon.

The band made their way towards the stairs to the second level, pausing only to engage in not-so-friendly banter with a trio of bugbears that stood watch at the site of the recent kobold massacre. Although Krunk wanted to fight, it was argued that that was a battle which could wait. It was more important to scope out the redoubt and to find a path to the rear entrance. The party headed down the stairs, their numbers and heavily armored members precluding any chance of arriving there unheralded.

They stepped onto the second level to find a seemingly empty room. They headed south to see if their own discoveries would align with their newly received map, but were interrupted by a quartet of hobgoblins springing out from hiding to attack. The melee was quick and the party was victorious, but combat so close to what the party’s map indicated was the entrance to the hobgoblin “killing field” was less than desirable. The party fled into the dungeon without so much as looting their foes (although Kubik did come away with a few stray coins).

The southern corridor led to a series of disused rooms. It was evident that this area had not seen much traffic, and other than various loathsome insects, the rooms were uninhabited. Two rooms of note were found, however. One door bore a recently added padlock, one which was beyond the skills of Kubik to pick. Another room, seemingly a forgotten living quarters, divulged a swarm of flesh-rending beetles when disturbed. In their efforts to stop the swarm, the party set the door to the room and outside floor alight, sending up a volume of black, acrid smoke. This room was close to one of the secondary entrances to the redoubt, leaving the party to wonder if there was any possible way the hobgoblins could have missed the conflagration.

Fleeing from the site of the blaze, the party took shelter in an abandoned sunken bath. Krunk, Baragkus, and Waren, all of whom had found themselves subjected to the biting attentions of the beetle swarm, took the opportunity to strip off their armor and inspect themselves for any still-living beetles or festering bites. Grumble and Kubik searched for hidden passages, while Anwar went to scout ahead, invisible.

As the dwarf probed the walls of the bath, his peripheral vision caught sight of fleeing movement. Turning to face the motion, he discovered a large pool of gray ooze rising to strike at him with a flailing pseudopod. Chaos ensued.

Looking back on this encounter, I see that there was a lot of potential here for more hilarity and certain doom then occurred in actual play. As the ooze struck, I had to reacquaint myself with the special powers of the beast, so I cracked open my copy of Labyrinth Lord. Now, according to LL, the attack of the gray ooze does 2d8 points of damage to unarmored foes. “That’s great!” I thought. “I’ve got three of those standing in the room right now. They even stripped down to their skivvies by their own volition!” If a victim is hit by the gray ooze and he/she’s wearing armor, the creature destroys metal armor in 1 turn, regardless of whether the armor is magical or not. “Hmm,” I thought. That’s more of an equipment demolishing attack than a life-threatening one. It’s like a slow acting rust monster. There’s no way that things going to last ten rounds of combat so it can eat through armor and actually inflict damage.” Still, I decided to roll with that since I’ve seen stranger monster powers and durations in my time.

Getting back to the fight, Grumble swung his weapon at the ooze, but missed, while Aieglos managed to put an arrow in the beastie. I rolled abysmally for the ooze’s hit points and I knew it was going to be a short battle. Krunk tried to get his crossbow into play, but Waren and Baragkus, both still armorless, charged into the fight to back up their recently raised from the dead companion. Kubik got the hell away from the thing. Waren, torch in hand, thrust the burning brand into the ooze. There was a horrible smell, the sound of splashing liquid, and the room went pitch black as the torch was extinguished by the creature’s viscous form. I had the party roll for initiative and state their actions anyway to keep the suspense going on for one more round, but they eventually got another torch lit just in time to see what was left of the ooze’s dead form run down the bath’s drain.

What I missed in my hurried reading of the gray ooze’s description was the part about it being immune to fire-based attacks. Oh well. You can bet I’ll remember next time. Additionally, once I returned home, I double-checked that whole “1 turn” thing in both Moldvay Basic and the Monster Manual. Turns out it should eat through non-magical armor in a single round; only magic armor takes a turn to destroy. I’ll be making that amendment to the Labyrinth Lord description myself…

Anyway, back to the fun.

After binding their wounds, quaffing a draught of wine, and re-armoring themselves, the party exited the baths and continued on down the night-haunted halls of Stonehell Dungeon. Traveling roughly southwest, they discovered a T-intersection. To the south lay a large open area; to the west was a strange 3’ tall post standing in the center of the corridor. It was decided that the post was the more interesting of the two. It also lay in the direction the party believed a route to the backdoor could be found.

The party was approaching the strange item when two arrows (frog-crotched, as we learned in play) rocketed out of the darkness beyond, just missing the party. Krunk and Rondo charged into the blackness, sensing an open chamber at the very edge of the party’s torchlight. As Krunk, forswearing any attack to close the distance, crossed the chamber’s threshold, a hobgoblin slashed at him from the shadows with a wicked naginata, wounding the berserker. Rondo also encountered a hobgoblin in ambush, but was able to fend off his attacker with his war hammer. The rest of the party hustled towards the embattled fighters to support their comrades.

With their torches closer to the melee, the party was able to see that the room beyond the fight was decorated in a martial fashion. Bas-reliefs of armored figures lined the walls and the tiled floor was done in the pattern of a kite shield. Looking down upon their battle was a 20’ tall statue of a figured dressed in battered plate mail. The figure bore a wild beard and a mass of unruly hair. He gripped a two-handed sword and stared down blindly with crazed eyes. In fact, he looked a lot like this guy:
The priests in the band were able to identify the statue as that of Vaughn, the War Lord, God of Battles. As impressive as the statue was, it didn’t distract the party from the pair of hobgoblin archers that fired from cover at the effigy’s base.

The battle with the hobgoblins at the room’s entrance formed a bottle neck, and there was much jostling for position to strike back at the goblinoid soldiers. All the while, a barrage of arrows rained down upon the party…until Anwar was able to send those archers into an enchanted slumber. With the missile fire halted, it was but a short time before the two other hobgoblins were brought down. Grumble and Krunk paused to kneel before the War Lord; the rest of the party rifled the pockets of the dead and uncovered more than a score of gold mark. The speculation, “Do you think they all have this sort of cash on them?” was uttered as the party thought back to the quartet of hobgoblins left unsearched at the entrance to the level. It was resolved to loot slain opponents more carefully from now on.

The party, their foes defeated, carefully inspected the post they had glimpsed in the corridor’s center. This proved to be a long iron spike, atop which was perched an elven skull. Written across its brow, in Hobgoblin, was the phrase, “Patrolled Area Ahead—6th Century, 9th Cohort, Hobgoblin Occupational Army”. By its position, it seemed that the adventurers were leaving the hobgoblin controlled area of Stonehell. Whether this meant they were on the right track to find the elusive rear entrance to the redoubt or not remained to be seen. The party proceeded north from Vaughn’s Hall, deducing that the way to the rear entrance of the redoubt must lay in that direction. Passing by a pair of open archways that led to bare rooms, the party came upon another T-intersection. To the north, the corridor did an abrupt zigzag before continuing on. To the west, a small lump sat in the center of the passage. Some attempt was made to get the hobbit to check it out (unfortunately, no one uttered: “You’re a burglar. Go do your burgling.”), but it was ultimately left to Grumble to step up (yet again) and risk his bearded neck.

Carefully poking the bag, for that was what the lump proved to be, he gingerly opened it and discovered a wheel of hard cheese, a link of salami, and an earthenware flask within. Someone has misplaced their lunch. Then, they heard the noise…

Recaps resume in two weeks.