Previously, the Dungeon Knights visited the hidden tomb of the infamous goblin lord Waerlan Ghel. There they found information leading to the lost temple and the purpose of the mysterious keys. After that, the heroes set off to recover several other keys across the known world: from the dark Gnarlewood Forest, in the Vaanak Sea, to the decadent Gemóre, in the Stenchwood Moors, under the dark city Sakkal, to the old capital Uruk, and to the Royal trade routes. They now return to the town of Chulon and the office of their current patron, the merchant Kelwyn.
The sunlight beams through the windows of the merchant’s office. A man of medium girth and fine clothing sits drinking a cup of tea. He reads his financial ledger, making notes and corrections with his quill pen. The bell atop the door rings. “I’ll be right with you. A moment, please?”
A familiar voice responds, “Kelwyn, take your time. We need the rest anyways.”
The merchant Kelwyn stands up suddenly, setting his teacup down clumsily. The cup tips over and spills out onto the ledger. He straightens his shirt and rushes out to the front room. “Chalándril? Is that you?”
“Yes. We have returned with the last of the keys.”
“While you were gone, I was able to compile a better map to the temple. By cross-referencing notes, other maps, and a few legends, I have something you could actually follow.” Kelwyn continues, “Well, we now have all nine keys, the location of the temple, and supplies for the trek. Take some time off to rest. Then you’ll set off for the mysterious door.”
“I have a bad feeling about this” laments Bandric.
-
Meanwhile, Ithayek and Lagoch, a powerful goblin lord, discuss matters with a purveyor of extra-planar beings. Their original diabolic specimen died. It has taken nearly a decade for them to locate and potentially free another willing specimen.
Ithayek says, “I require another subject for our project.”
A masked figure, known as the Devil Master to the goblins, asks, “What happened with the previous specimen?”
“The primary breeder expired during the birthing process.” Lagoch responds, “It seems her body couldn’t take the strain we put her through.”
“That is unfortunate” answers the Devil Master. “And how is our back up plan with specimen B going?”
Lagoch straightens up, “We still can’t extricate him from his new prison.”
“New prison?” barks the Devil Master. “What happened this time?”
Ithayek adds, “Surprise guests interrupted our project. During the conflict, a human mage pushed specimen B into a rift before dying. Over the years since that time, we’ve relied on the abilities of specimen A, until she expired recently.”
Devil Master thinks for a moment, “Obviously, this will cost you more.”
-
On a skiff poling through a brackish swamp, Gûltar grumbles, “This Kelwyn fellow has us traveling to all sorts of disgusting places.”
“You should add smelly too” quips Bandric.
In the distance, large dots approach. Merimonwë’s ears perk up as she senses danger. Her eyes narrow and her ears fold back. “They look like insects.”
“Hmm,” murmurs Tolok. “That may prove very annoying.” He pulls out a wand from his satchel and points in the direction of the insects. A few magic words are spoken and then a spout of fire roasts the insects as they fly towards the boat. Their burnt husks sizzle when they hit the water. “There,” says Tolok proudly, “that should take care of them until we apply a bug repellant solution I purchased at the last town.”
“Bug repellant?”
“Why yes,” continues Tolok, “it is made of various herbs and leaves. The smell is rather foul but it should keep the tiny insects off our skin.”
“You weren’t lying about the smell—that’s awful.” cries Merimonwë.
“I was worried that the enemy might see us, now I’m worried they might smell us first!” adds Gûltar.
The first night, large flies and tiny mosquitoes plague the Knights. Luckily Tolok’s repellant actually works. On the third day, however, Tolok tells the Dungeon Knights some bad news. “I miscalculated the amount of repellant we need to traverse this seemingly endless swamp. I am out of the goo repellant.”
During their trek through the muddy swamp, the large flies and tiny mosquitoes begin to arrive in larger numbers and in larger forms. Bandric slaps his neck and pulls away a large mass of insect innards, “There’s so many of them. Why isn’t there some sort of bug-eating creature living in this area? They’d be as fat as a Gemórean merchant.”
The heroes start swatting at the bugs with great regularity. “This is getting out of hand!” cries Merimonwë. “I do not like bugs.”
A mosquito the size of a tiny dog bites Kotyka on the neck. Bandric stabs the insect, killing it. “I’m not sure mosquitoes are supposed to be that big.”
He turns around to see another giant mosquito next to his face. It lands on his shoulder and bites his neck. Bandric tries to pull off the mosquito but fails to dislodge the barbed feeding tube from his neck. Chalándril, Gûltar, Merimonwë, and Kotyka (again) are also bitten with their own giant blood-sucking insect on their necks. Somehow, only small Tolok escapes the onslaught of hungry mosquitos.
“Tolok! Get these things off us!”
“These seem much bigger than the ones I burnt a few days ago.”
Gûltar cries hoarsely. “Fireball! Ground zero!”
“I do not advise…” Tolok looks around to see his companions falling to the ground. They are getting pale while the mosquitoes grow in size. “Then again…” Tolok backs up onto a fallen log and unleashes a huge, searing fireball. Kaboom! As the steamy smoke clears, burnt husks of giant mosquitoes litter the area. “Are you all alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I think the constant level of moisture in my clothes helped keep me from bursting into flames with your spell,” responds Bandric. “As long as you got them all.”
“I think I did.”
Chalándril commands, ‟Everyone, gather around. Let me heal your burns and other injuries. Tolok’s magic was potent as usual.”
Several more days of the muddy, squishy torment pass. Merimonwë looks more miserable than normal – if that was possible. “Our food smells like the swamp. Our feet have blisters and mold. I have rashes in places I didn’t know could get rashes.”
“At least we’re finding more solid soil. We should be out of it soon,” answers Bandric. Within an hour, Bandric locates firmer footing. He helps the others up the fallen tree logged island. He points over to the thickly floral area. “This must be the place.”
Another hundred yards (filled with thick vegetation) later, the Dungeon Knights climb a small hill rising out of the swamp. Tree roots and branches writhe and twist around the vine-choked stone. Mud completely covers the stonework except in the most exposed areas. Thick roots create bastions of dry land and sure footing. In the nooks and alcoves created by the enormous roots are statues – some broken and lying on the ground. A few others sit waist deep in the last remaining pools of swamp water. Several look like goblins and wolves. Others look like human explorers or swamp people.
“Let me scout it out first. Remain quiet.” Bandric begins sulking in the trees.
On the largest stone building are three hooded figures. One obviously looks male with his strong, stout build. The other two figures moves have a more slender build and move with grace. The women’s hoods undulate ever so slightly. Bandric notices they are looking over the walls for the source of the noise. He leans in to get a better look. Bandric sees the glowing eyes of the woman beneath the hood. His clothes and body become stone, stuck in a tree.
“Fek! We have a situation here. Don’t look at their eyes or you’ll become a giant doorstop.” Orders Gûltar, “Can someone lob big magic over there? ‘Cause I’m not carrying you all home if you all turn into rocks.”
Both the gnome and elf says, “Will do!” and cast spells.
“What’s going on?” asks Chalándril. Kotyka looks at the dwarf worriedly.
“Apparently, Bandric spotted a Medusa over there on the ruin. These monsters can turn ya to stone if they get a look at you. So don’t look them in the eyes.”
Astral badgers show up on the temple walls as a fireball explodes upon the three hooded figures. The smoke and flames quickly clear. All of the figures pull down their hoods exposing heads of writhing snakes. Two of the badgers turn to stone. The large male called Temek walks over to the remaining badger. He grabs and crushes the badger in his large powerful hand. Vambeunik and Ipai, the female Medusas, and Temek, a medusa lord, look around for other intruders.
Temek yells, “Invaduloj, vi profanis nian domon. Kapitulacu al nin aŭ vi mortiĝos.” He has his arms out to protect the women. Turning his head, he says to the women, “Vambeunik, Ipai, restu ĉi tien. Ne lasu ilin ĉirkaŭi vin. Mi enmetos ilin en embuskon.”
“Temek, singarda estu.” Vambeunik responds.
“Estos, mia amulino.” Temek closes his eyes and melts into the stone floor.
Chalándril rushes to the tree. “I’ll take care of Bandric. You focus on killing those creatures.”
Gûltar moves forward and begins to climb the steps. Temek rises up behind him, emerging from the stone stairs as if it is water. Gûltar stops his climb and senses something. “This is bad, isn’t it?”
Temek smashes the dwarf with his powerful fist. “Enano, hodiaŭ ci mortiĝos.”
Two fireballs explode over the medusas on the temple roof. They appear staggered by the onslaught of magical fire. Gûltar hops over the wall and scrambles into a fighting stance. He blocks a powerful fist of Temek. Gûltar strikes and hits Temek with his ax. “Damn, I should have used the pick end.”
Chalándril casts a spell on Bandric, the rock in the tree. Kotyka hops off the tree root onto the temple roof, tumbling into position with her sword. “Am I near them?”
Two medusas with arrows sticking out of their heads fall to the ground next to the half-orc girl. “Yes, they’re on your left,” replies Bandric. “Chalándril thank you for restoring me to my squishy form.”
“No problem.”
Gûltar barks, “I could still use some help over here. This guy is much tougher than he looks.” Temek’s mighty fist misses Gûltar and lands on the stone roof. It leaves a large cracked dent in the stonework. Temek turns to see who is coming to the dwarf’s aid. Gûltar spins his ax to the pick side and lands a powerful strike into the back of Temek. The pick digs deep into the medusa lord’s body, causing his skin to crack. He crumbles in pieces to the floor. “Never mind, I got it.”
-
Beneath the huge gnarled tree that sits upon the temple, between its sprawling roots, the Dungeon Knights find a short tunnel-like passage. The cramped space is overgrown with weeds and roots. Inside, they find the stout stone doors of the temple. This must be the entrance to this fabled place. Kotyka clears away the mud and years of grime from the face of the doors. Ornate designs of strange beings are etched along the edges. In the center of the two doors is a solid piece of hexagonal shaped stone. It appears to be a lock, holding the two doors shut. Nine hexagonal slots are on this centerpiece. They are the exact size of the keys Kelwyn provided.
Kotyka places them into the slots. “This is the arrangement Tolok gave me.”
Tolok adds, “It should be correct. I am rarely wrong. Research at the Grand Library revealed several possible solutions. I used all of them to deduce the arrangement of key configurations. Interestingly, they all provided a similar distribution of...”
The others give him a glance of disbelief and roll their eyes. The doors begin to open up with a stone-on-stone grind. Musty air rushes past as the doors slide open. The doorway exposes a dark hallway. Fine stonework leads in and then begins to descend in a flight of stairs. The stillness and silence of the temple seem ominous.
Merimonwë shines the lantern down into the dark stairs. The rays of light seem to wound the darkness. “Shall we move on? We didn’t come all this way to open the doors and leave…right?”
The Dungeon Knights arrange themselves in marching line and head into the darkness. The light from the lantern struggles to maintain its weak radiance. The stairs end, but the hallway continues a few more feet before opening into a dark chamber. Merimonwë shines a directed ray of light forward. Though more focused, the darkness eats away at the dimming light. A statue centered upon the far wall is draped on either side by purple curtains. The statue is a large man-like being with his face obscured.
In the corner sit three ghoulish skeletons. The creatures look like tattooed, rotten remains of a human or something similarly sized. Its eyes are such a deep shade of inky black that they stand out against the shriveled remains. Unfortunately, the creatures stand up. The lead ghoul speaks as glowing energy whips emerge from his hands. “Teosile enkwas sanktaom dewdemom. Sun teosiso malsanktaosia, teosile mortet!”
Bandric asks, “Did anyone understand that?”
The other sigil-etched ghoul says, “Kameosi egedat. Krewospai edein e perekaia animospai poiein. Kormat sun kameospaiso vipospai!”
“I’m guessing,” says Bandric, “that wasn’t a compliment or an invitation to a party.”
The sigil-etched ghouls snap their arms out to the sides. Glowing threads of light grow out of their hands, creating sizzling, incandescent whips.
The third ghoul moves quickly and uses his whips to choke Merimonwë. She starts to slump and chokes, “Uhhhhh Kuuhhh!”
The ghoul grins as only undead can grin, “Taip!” The entropic whips make an audible hum, “Zzzzzzhhh”
The second ghoul uses his whip to snatch Bandric’s bow from his hands. Bandric exclaims, “Oh that’s not nice at all!”
The leader snaps his whip and wraps it around Gûltar. The whip hums and pulsates. Gûltar winces and spits, “Fiku vin! The whips are doing something to me. It hurts. It drains!”
The priestess Chalándril races over to Merimonwë’s opponent. She touches it with her glowing hand. The flash of light turns the ghoul to dust. The second one hits Chalándril with the whip, leaving a bleeding gash across her midsection. “Zzzzzzhhh”
The leader releases Gûltar and turns to face Chalándril. It uses its whips to entangle the priestess and begins to feed on her soul. The ghoul speaks, “Kameos welat teoso animom.”
Merimonwë shoots magical missiles at them but they hit a shield. “Damn! They have Shield up!”
A flying shield hits the second ghoul in the head. Gûltar taunts, “Try this shield.”
Gûltar swings his ax with both hands. With momentum on his side, he turns and swings again at the last ghoul feeding on Chalándril. Two skull pieces hit the ground and roll to the side. Gûltar kicks one of the skulls fragments, “Don’t mess with our priestess.”
Kotyka and Bandric begin searching the room for possible treasure and secret doors. In a lone footlocker in one of the corners, Kotyka discovers rotted ceremonial robes and a strange, cold animal horn. Tolok examines the horn using the limited lantern light. “It has similar markings to the tattooed undead and etchings on the walls. Some sort of ancient script I gather. For what purpose I do not know.”
Bandric says, “Let’s pack it and move on.”
-
Chalándril says, “There’s got to be more of the temple here—somewhere. This small chapel seems out of place with the size of the structure outside. There must be more rooms or hidden doors.”
Kotyka takes a very long time to thoroughly search the walls, floors, and ceiling of the tiny room. “There’re no secret doors or false walls in this room.”
Tolok add, “Since the room lacks an egress point, perhaps we should think outside the room. Check the staircase and the hallway.” The Dungeon Knights move to the staircase and the previous hallway. Within a few minutes, Kotyka finds a hidden door on the first landing.
“Here! I found a secret door.” She smiles with a toothy grin. “I was beginning to doubt my skills for a moment.”
Kotyka, Bandric, and Gûltar stick their heads into the previously hidden, narrow hallway. It leads to another set of stairs going much deeper into the structure. The torchlight does not reach the end of the descent. Bandric quips, “I have a bad feeling about this.”
-
The Dungeon Knights travel down deeper into the bowels of the temple. They find all sorts of rooms for a small community such as sleeping barracks, lavatory, cooking area, and a supply room. One of the other rooms appears to be some sort of library or study room. Inside one, Bandric spots a translucent man dressed in priestly robes mumbling. His hunched form and occasional sobs are interrupted by spurts of curses and yelling.
As the others begin to take notice, the fuzzy form of the man sits up straight. His head turns towards the heroes. His form flickers for a moment becoming a bit more incorporeal. A thin smile emerges on his ghostly face.
“Visitors? I see that Shumhanrhu isn’t with you. Why, he wouldn’t travel with a motley crew such as you. Ah, but visitors you are. Please come in. I am Parvis Auswyn, acting High Priest of this temple.” Parvis stands up and floats away from his chair. He floats in the air non-aggressively and beckons to enter the adjoining room.
“Please come in.”
Inside the room are an old bed, a chest, a wardrobe, and a small, personal latrine. A couch sits on the other side of the room and is garnished with worn pillows. Parvis continues, “From your appearance, I gather you’re here seeking evil to smite under your do-gooder blades. You seem like nice folk. I’ll provide some information to help you defend against the fiend.”
“How is it you speak our language? The other beings here did not.”
“Most likely I do not. However, in my present form, I seem to have unusual abilities—one of which appears to speak to you.” He holds up his nearly transparent hand. “Please let me continue. I have vital information for you regarding the other inhabitant of this temple.”
“Yuughathroth Nefkar was bound here by my teacher Shumhanrhu. Binding an evil outsider strengthened the unholy darkness and thus magic of this place. As you would expect, the bearded devil did not like the arrangement. He has fought his forced captivity from the beginning. My teacher proved much more skilled and held Nefkar with powerful magics. Shumhanrhu left on official business centuries ago. He still hasn’t returned. Since that time, Yuughathroth has looked for a way out of his captivity by using this library. The binding magic is strong, but he is quite clever and persistent.”
Tolok takes out some paper and begins writing notes. “Eventually he found a solution, a loophole that even my brilliant teacher overlooked. Yuughathroth Nekfar torn off his shadow allowing him to be bound yet unbound. He was able to use his natural ability to teleported out. Only his shadow remains. And I with it, the obligation to guard this temple until the High Priest returns.”
Tolok strokes his beard. “Can you tell us more about how the devil’s binding is increasing the power here?”
The ghost nods, “Shumhanrhu was able to tap into the Plane of Shadows using the bound devil and the Dark Vault as anchor points. This allowed him to bridge the metaphysical distance between this temple and Falestrin’s dark domain, thus increasing his access to more powerful spells and blessings from the Dark One. You may know the Dark One as An, the deep dark void, parent of the Sovereign Twelve. Extra-planar creatures have a natural transplanar essence that can be tapped for such conduits to divine beings. This enhancement allows the priest access to more divine power and the temple more boons. I’m sure Shumhanrhu gained Falestrin’s favor in building such a complex temple, even if it is small compared to more traditional temples of the time. Through intense study in the library here, Nekfar eventually discovered a way to split his shadow from his normal form using an ancient incantation. Since his shadow form is also Yuughathroth Nefkar and was there at the time of his binding, the binding magic keeping him here is satisfied. This semantic loophole allowed him to circumvent the conditions of his binding. Apparently, the magic Shumhanrhu used is a binary conditional statement to test the state of the containment. It wasn’t sophisticated enough to deal with altered states of being.”
“You have provided much information and we are grateful,” Chalándril says. “Is there anything we can do to help you stop being a ghost and pass on to the service of your god?”
“No, I am content with the conditions of my confinement. I took an oath to remain here until my teacher’s return. It has been so long. I was cruel in my youth. Countless hours of reflection has unwound my anger, my righteous indignation, and my pride. This state is much better than where I am destined to go. Your offer to help me is appreciated but not required.” The ghost bows respectfully. “Now go. Be wary of Yuughathroth. He may sense your presence already.”
-
The Dungeon Knights continue to explore the remainder of the subterranean temple, dispatching the dark, dead inhabitants in their centuries-long captivity. After hours of exploration, they reach the last junction. The final dark-stone hallway extends down for several yards. The Knights hear the gentle sound of pouring liquid echo in the stark hall. The rhythmic plop of water dropping into a pool does echo. Drip drip drip.
The hallway widens mid-way down. In the center of the enlarged hall is a pillar-like fountain. The front and rear are solid pillars while the middle section is open to the sides. Ornately carved figures descend from the ceiling, forming a font. Black water pours out from this font.
The water pours out into the bottom structure, a carved pool. The figures on the whole piece are strange fish-like humanoids and other sea creatures. Some have octopodal appendages, while other figures have crustacean-like appendages. Other carved figures are completely unfamiliar and distorted. To the Dungeon Knights, the whole garish statuary is both strange and alien in appearance.
Bandric touches the stonework with his bow. He taps it gently. “I wonder what this is. Seems out of place and a little bizarre.”
“The water looks refreshing and cool.” Kotyka says quietly, “I wonder if it’s fresh water?”
Bandric puts out his hand as a warning. “Kotyka, that’s a bad idea.” His warning is much to slow for the quick reflexes of Kotyka. She cups her hand and draws a drink from the font. Her skin becomes completely black with a purple sigil on her forehead.
“Wow, that was very clean water.” Kotyka looks at the others. Their shocked expressions confuse her. “What’s everyone looking at?”
Bandric half-smiles, “Well, she’s not green anymore.”
“What do you mean I’m not green?”
Chalándril touches her shoulder warmly. “Your skin has turned ebony black.”
“What?”
Tolok adds cheerily, “This will improve your roguish abilities to sulk around. That is a bonus, no?”
Kotyka begins crying. “Can you fix me Chalándril?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps tomorrow. I’ll need to commune with the Great Mother for a possible cure.”
At the end of the hallway, the Dungeon Knights find an ornately carved door.
Tolok says, “It seems our fate to continually find closed doors, eh?”
Kotyka’s goggles are filling up with tears. “At least it isn’t locked or trapped. What’s behind here should be too bad.” She empties her goggles of tears and sniffles.
The door opens to a shadowy room. The heroes fight the hard to see anything. The lantern’s light shrivels and shrinks to half its former strength. Merimonwë shivers. “It’s really cold in here.”
A devil-shaped shadow emerges from the dark. Yuughathroth Nefkar announces, “Saluton kretenoj. Ĉu vi comprendas min, nen? How about this? You understand now? That’s a nice beard, dwarf, but mine is better.”
His beard reaches out and strikes Gûltar. The dwarf winces in pain, blood pouring from the jagged wound. “I can only assume you are here to slay me. You can assume that I am here to slay you. Together we shall have a grand battle. Do me a favor, do not die quickly. Let me savor the conflict. I have been bored for countless years. This will give me fond memories for countless more years.”
Gûltar steps forward to attack. Yuughathroth whips his glaive around hitting Gûltar multiple times. “You are a pitifully slow dwarf.”
Chalándril touches Gûltar, attempting to heal his wounds. “The wounds won’t heal.”
The devil spears Chalándril with his dark glaive. “A healer! So you’re the one I should kill first. Excellent!”
Merimonwë casts her magical missiles at the devil. The missile fizzles once they hit. “My spells can’t overcome his resistance.”
Bandric shoots some arrows. Yuughathroth snaps a few with his glaive, but the others sail by. “You could become a nuisance boy. I shall save you for seconds, once I carve up the pretty healer.”
Desperate, Bandric says. “It’s too dark to get a clear shot.”
Badgers appear in bright pops. Tolok says encouragingly, “Keep shooting! Reinforcements have arrived.”
Gûltar tries to move in to help the badgers. They nip and claw at the shadowy devil, opening up a wound. A bloodied Yuughathroth sweeps around with his glaive at the astral badgers killing them. Gûltar swings and lands a deep cut into the shadowy form. Yuughathroth slashes Gûltar across the belly, causing blood to drip from the wound. The dwarf slumps to the ground.
A puff of glittering dust fills the area around Yuughathroth. The mystical sparkles fall off the shadowy form. Merimonwë curses, “Damn. I can’t get the spells to stick. His resistances are strong.”
Bandric shoots again. This time, the shots hit home. “Those are starting to hurt, boy.”
Yuughathroth blinks out of existence only to appear next to Bandric. He slices Bandric across the chest. Bandric falls to his knees clutching his bleeding chest. Then he slumps to the floor. The devil’s foot is on Bandric’s body. “Two down and four weaklings to go. This is much too easy.”
Tolok casts an entangle spell. “Lesser Black Tentacles” Tentacles wrapping around Yuughathroth’s body hold the shadow. The devil teleports away.
“Nice try but not good enough!”
“Enough of this!” Merimonwë frowns. Her eyes begin to glow. “It ends now! Empowered Searing Light.”
The thick bolt of light hits the devil and he screams, “Noooooo!”
Yuughathroth’s shadowy form melts away. An amulet falls to the ground with a clunk. Only the cold, dark air remains.
Kotyka retrieves the amulet. Just as they are about to exit the unusual room, Tolok begins to stroke his beard. “This room is unusually cold and dark. It even diminishes our lantern light to a significant degree. What else do we have that is rather cold to the touch?” The others shrug. “The horn we found up top. Maybe there is a connection between this room and that item.”
Taking a deep breath, Bandric blows a note on the horn. A dim light appears on the far wall. The lit form is a large, circular sigil. Within seconds, the symbol begins to fade away. “Sound it again Bandric, this time hold the note longer.”
Bandric blows another, longer note on the horn. Tolok studies the symbol before it fades. “Ah, this can be activated by positive energy. Chalándril, will you do the honors?”
Bandric rubs his cheeks.
Chalándril steps over to the wall and sends forth a wave of positive energy from her gods. The sigil glows stronger and remains. However, the wall behind it fades exposing a small chamber beyond a short hall. Gûltar and Tolok venture into the small chamber and explore a bit. Tolok calls back, “There is a dimensional fork here. This room is some kind of inter-dimensional portal to the Shadow Realm. I suggest we refrain from entering that dimension. There are no other items here. It appears that the proximity of this portal is causing the drop in temperature and the limiting effect on illumination.”
“That’s enough.” declares Chalándril, “We don’t need a whole lecture. Take what you want and let’s get out of here.”
-
The Dungeon Knights return from their swamp expedition after many days. Their friend Kelwyn the Merchant, welcomes them into his office. He listens attentively to Chalándril as she relates the events of their adventure, making notes in his notebook for further reference. Kelwyn gives the Dungeon Knights their fee and collects maps. Then he sits back with a sorrowful face. He sighs and begins his tale.
“I haven’t been completely forthcoming with all the details of your missions. You see, I have more interest in these events and locations than mere greed and curiosity.” He clears his throat. “My father, Kralis, was one of the Righteous Defenders. They were a mercenary band of talented adventurers with a particular fondness for hunting and slaying devils. My father fell trying to kill Yuughathroth Nefkar. His body was never recovered and I swore to my mother and his departed spirit that I would find his body and get revenge on that devil.”
“But as you know, I’m just a merchant, not a fiend-slaying hero like you. So I had to use my money and influence to gain what my sword arm could not. Please don’t be cross with me.” A tear runs from his eye as he looks down. “Alas, even in my enthusiasm to kill my father’s murderer, I have failed. Yuughathroth Nefkar is truly a deceitful foe. How could there be two of him? What are we to do now? There are no more leads to follow or places to find. I am at a dead end.”
Kelwyn composes himself. “Still I am grateful for what you have done so far. I am in your debt.”
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Location: Distant swamp
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 6)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 6)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 6)
Kotyka (half-orc Rogue 6)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 6)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 6)
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“I’m not sure mosquitoes are supposed to be that big.” – Bandric
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This is another of my Living Greyhawk adventures which I wrote for the RPGA. This too is based on my home campaign and continues the story of Kelwyn’s Keys.
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