The Harbinger was stopped but its defeat only revealed a strange mystery. Who is organizing the goblin hordes? The trouble caused by these wolf riders uncovered an old, dark secret near Chulon. The Dungeon Knights are tasked with uncovering the mystery. Will this secret provide a clue to why the goblins sought the Harbinger or will it unlock a darker danger? (Part Two of the Kelwyn's Keys series)
Leaning forward, Bandric declares, “In the window, there, a little girl! We need to help her!”
Gûltar squints, “By the forge’s fire, how do you see that?”
“Help me please!” screams the little girl.
Bandric pulls Gûltar by the arm. “Hurry!”
“Stop yer yanking, Bandric.” scolds Gûltar, “I’m already running. I don’t have long legs like you.” Gûltar lowers his shoulders and busts through the front door. The inside of the home is already warm. Bandric and Chalándril bound past the dwarf making their way to the staircase. Gûltar bangs on the doors and walls, “Get yer flabby butts out of here. There’s a fire upstairs. Now get!”
Outside, Kotyka and Merimonwë begin organizing the town people into a bucket brigade so they can start putting out the fire. It takes a Merimonwë a moment to capture everyone’s attention with a flare of magical sparks. Then she orders someone to find buckets.
Inside, Chalándril and Bandric continue to sprint up the stairs until they reach the third floor. There they see the hearth is ablaze. “Bandric, I’ll try to put the fire out. That door may lead to the girl. Open it and get her out of here.”
Bandric nods and kicks open the door. More smoke flows into the room. There near the window is a small girl. He runs over to her and picks her up. “You’ll be alright now, little one.” The girl smiles beneath her soot and tear-stained cheeks. She hugs his neck. Bandric gasps, “That’s a tad too tight.”
He looks back out into the hallway. The flames are bigger. He can’t see Chalándril. “Damn,” he thinks. “Hold on tight, sweetie. We’re going to climb down.”
Bandric crawls out of the window. He reaches into his haversack and pulls out a small grappling hook and rope. With a flick of his wrist, he secures the hook in the window and adjusts the rope to rappel down. “Don’t look down. Thou art safe with me.” In a few bounds, he slides down the wall to the street below.
Chalándril’s eyes water in the sooty smoke. “Great Mother, grant me the power to create water. By your grace and power: Create Water.” Her hands rise as a torrent of water spews forth from her hands. She directs the water onto the base of the fire, snuffing out the blaze in several smoke-filled seconds.
Several people leave the burning building. The townsfolk who went to fetch water buckets return to the scene with their buckets in hand. They start to pour water on the smoldering embers. One of the residents remarks, “Look, the fire is mostly out. We saved the building!”
From the dark doorway emerges an ash-stained priestess. Chalándril wipes her eyes. “Is the girl safe?”
“Gerta!” screams a woman from behind the crowd.
“Momma!” answers the girl from Bandric’s arms. Bandric hands over the girl to the crying mother.
“Yes, Chalándril. She is safe.”
Another figure emerges from the doorway. Black with soot and smoke, Gûltar carries a limp body in his arms. ‟I couldn’t find anyone else in the house.”
Gûltar walks over to a safe area and lays the unconscious woman down. Chalándril begins to use her healing skills to help the woman recover from the smoke and flames. A few minutes later, the woman wakes up groggy and disoriented.
A familiar man steps up to Bandric and Chalándril, “Such heroics, nothing less than I expect from my very good friends.”
“Kelwyn? What are you doing here?”
The man smirks. “My office is but a few buildings down. Besides, I was going to look for you soon. Please drop by my office for drinks and a short discussion.” He bows courteously and walks back into the town square.
Gûltar burps. “I sure hope he means ale and not some sissy drink like tea.”
-
Later, in a merchant’s office, Kelwyn says, “It’s very nice to see you again. The gods have truly blessed my path to have trusted friends heed my call. Once again, I seek your expertise to unravel mysteries.” He offers them a seat near him, next to a tray of fine tea, dwarven ale, and elven wine. Gûltar taps his stomach and licks his lips. Tolok eyes the tea and smiles.
“Recently, I acquired several copies of goblin literature, sundry letters, and interrogation notes. Professor Muskegum was kind enough to help translate these documents. This allowed me to connect pieces of local lore and goblin culture to find a secret crypt.” Kelwyn takes a sip of tea from his cup then continues. “There is a local pond in the forest. Years ago, it was a popular swimming hole until some of the children mysteriously vanish, often right in front of their friends’ eyes. Now, only the brave or foolish go there to swim. For the most part, the pond is abandoned. Around Chulon, it’s known as the Haunted Pond.”
Kelwyn points to the pile of notes on his desk. “On a related note, the goblin documents contain a requiem to Waerlan Ghel, the goblin lord that ruled these parts decades ago. A goblin requiem is often sung at funerals for powerful warlords. This one refers to burying Waerlan Ghel beneath the Tears of Zangoyek. Zangoyek is the goblin god of unity and peace – well, a goblin’s concept of peace anyway.”
A smile emerges on his face. “It seems that this Haunted Pond is called the Tears of Zangoyek in the goblin tongue. We gained this bit of information from the town watch’s interrogation of a goblin thief caught within the walls. Therefore, I’d like you to go to this Haunted Pond and find the hidden crypt. Of course, once you find the crypt, enter it and obtain its treasures and lost lore. A map of the crypt and notes about its contents are greatly appreciated. There’s a potential that the tomb has another key. If not, it should have sufficient treasure to fund further research and your expeditionary supplies.”
Kelwyn sits back in his chair and takes another sip of tea. “Will you accept my little mission to this dungeon? You are, after all, the Dungeon Knights.”
-
In a small clearing, a glistening pool of water feeds the water lilies and a family of small frogs. Several human-sized rocks are all that is left of a stone ring surrounding the pool. Now the overgrown weeds, wildflowers, and tree trunks guard this once sacred, haunted place. The ranger steps over to investigate the rocks. “These look like the names of some locals scratched onto the stone. The goblins probably don’t use this place anymore.”
Upon closer inspection of the largest rock facing the pool, Kotyka notices a strange, crude carving. It looks like some sort goblin or hobgoblin crying. “Hmm, this is interesting.”
“So why did we agree to do this job?” Gûltar asks.
Bandric stands up. “Because it’s a paying job. We get paid whether or not we find loot. It’s easy money.”
“That’s what we thought last time.” pipes in Kotyka.
“Not much up here. Just a bunch of old rocks and wildflowers.” Bandric gets out his rope. “Gûltar, it’s time for a little swim.”
“Beh, with my luck, there won’t be anything to kill down there.”
-
As Gûltar descends into the murky, cold darkness of the deep pool, he sees the faint glimmer of light near the bottom edge. The farther he swims down, the more he notices crafted portions of this natural pool. The lower edge of the pool is a carved tunnel and the glow emits from the tunnel. At the bottom of the pool, many dead, bloated, humanoid bodies lie entwined by the roots and debris.
The rope snakes behind the dwarf, he continues to swim closer to the carved tunnel. The eyes of several bloated goblin bodies start to glow with necrotic energies. They float to an upright position and stagger towards the dwarf. The closest one grabs Gûltar’s boot with his skeletal, clawed hand. A burst of bubbles pours out of Gûltar’s mouth. His screams silenced by the water.
-
Bandric and Chalándril are holding the slack rope in their hands. “What were the signals again?”
“One tug, pull me up. Two tugs, pull me up faster. Otherwise, give him slack.” replies Chalándril.
He nods. “That’s what I thought. Sometimes his dwarven accent confuses me.” The line pulls taunt in two sharp tugs. “I think he wants more slack.”
“No, he wants up. Quickly pull him up. Everyone, help us.”
Both Bandric and Chalándril start pulling in the rope. The others jump up to the rope to assist. “That guy has got to lose some weight.” Suddenly, the rope begins to move more quickly. A balding head breaks the surface of the water. The dwarf gasps for air. He’s about to speak when a bloated arm reaches up and pulls him back beneath the surface. Gûltar rises up again but this time with his hand poised to punch the zombie. He dives back down into the water. The churning and waves begin to settle. Bandric asks, “Should we go in to help him?”
Gûltar’s head emerges again. ‟Yer bloated bastard!” The dwarf is pulled back down under the water.
Gûltar comes to the surface again and swims towards the pool’s side. “Well, I know what happened to the human children…and the goblins.” He gets ashore and begins putting on his armor. Kotyka offers him a towel to dry off. “No thanks. Besides, I think we’re all going to get wet soon. Those creatures are some kind of waterlogged undead goblins I reckon. There’s a glowing cave at the far end. It could be the entrance to the crypt. I’m going to need more help to slay the undead and reach the cave.”
The heroes jump into the water after Gûltar. Streams of the air bubbles streak up to the surface as the Dungeon Knights swim further down. Gûltar and Bandric slowly poke their blades, hacking at the bloated undead. Soon the water is filled with black ichor and fleshy bits. The heroes make for the light before they run out of air. The tunnel leads to a larger chamber. The light comes from above. Half of the room has carved stair dais leading up to the surface. With measured steps, Gûltar and Bandric rise out of the cold water into a large chamber. The ceiling of the cavern is filled with green glowing fungi. The eerie phosphorescent fungus sheds enough light for the two warriors to spot the last of the rotting zombies.
As Gûltar rushes to engage, he slips on the wet stone floor. Showing off, Bandric slides on the slick surface to reach the zombies first. With a strong swing of his sword, he lops off the head of the bloated goblin. Gûltar regains his footing and dispatches the other goblin zombie. Behind the dead bodies are double doors with a large lock. The carved relief of goblin gods and goblin heroes adorn each door’s face.
The other Knights emerge from the water. Shaking water off his face, Tolok asks, “What is it? It is so large.” Bandric looks down at the gnome and dwarf, then back at the top of the door—right at head level.
“Like most dungeons, this is a locked door.”
Kotyka flexes her fingers and hands. “It looks like I’m up.”
“While Kotyka plies her trade, let me take a look at that text carved into the door frame. Bandric, if you would be so kind.” The human hoists the little gnome up the carving. “It reads, ‘Here lies Waerlan Ghel. May the Great One protect his soul and slay his enemies.’ And it seems a hasty addition was made ‘…and may he feast upon the souls of his tomb robbers.’ Oh my!”
Impatiently, Gûltar hefts his ax and swings at the door, slicing the lock in two. “No need to worry about any traps or locks. Let’s get moving.”
Through her goggled eyes, Kotyka yells, “Would you mind warning me before you chop my hands off?”
The air in this hallway is musty and dank. The mold and fungus that was in the previous chamber is more pronounced here. This undergrowth makes the floor and walls slippery. Patches of phosphorescent fungus illuminate the hallway like an eerie torch.
“Well, at least we won’t need lanterns or torches in here. This slimy fungus is providing plenty of light.” Kotyka and Gûltar look at each other with eyebrows raised. Bandric continues, “I know you two can see in the dark. I was referring to the rest of us.”
Suddenly, a large patch of green slime drops from the ceiling onto Kotyka and Gûltar. “See in the dark yes. See, above you, no.”
“Aaaaaaaaahhhh! Help me!” screams Kotyka.
Gûltar grunts, “Fek! It’s burning my skin. Somebody get it off me.”
“Agh! Now it’s on my hands! Hurry, it’s eating me.” Kotyka adds.
Chalándril moves to the front of the line. “Get out of those clothes before it does any more damage. You others, get out your wineskins. We’ll need it wash off the slime. Plain water won’t work.” She looks at Gûltar. “I think dwarven ale will work, perhaps.”
‟Not my ale!”
Moments later, Kotyka is standing in the hall completely naked, drenched in wine and ale. She covers her chest and crotch shyly. Bandric and Tolok begin washing Gûltar off with the rest of the wine and ale. Merimonwë puts a blanket around Kotyka.
“It’s not very warm. In fact, we’re all wet right now.” Kotyka nods.
Chalándril takes out some ointment. “Here, this will help sooth the burn. We’ll continue once you both are ready.”
The Dungeon Knights continue exploring the narrow, low halls of this goblin crypt. The dwarven warrior squirms in his armor. “Gods, with my undergarments gone this armor is really going to chafe.”
Kotyka puts her hands up. “Sh, I hear water dripping.”
“We all hear water dripping. It’s from our clothes.”
“No, up ahead.”
The narrow hall opens out into a long, rectangular chamber. The chamber is wider and deeper than the tunnel the Dungeon Knights emerge from. The path forms a stone bridge over still water. The bridge is slick with moisture, mold, and fungus. Small droplets of water drip off the bridge into the waters ten feet below. On the far walls are murals of water creatures and water spirits intricately woven into finely carved knot-work. Much of the artwork is covered in mold and moss, extending from both hallways out of this chamber.
“Now this looks dangerous,” remarks Bandric. “Best we let the dwarf go first.”
Gûltar gives Bandric a dirty look. “Aye, is that how it’s going to be?”
“If it’s a trap, you are the most likely to survive.”
“A trap?” Gûltar grumbles. “Kotyka didn’t detect any traps!”
The half-orc girl looks around. “I can find traps on doors, on walls, or hidden in the floor. I don’t where to look for a trap if the whole room is a trap. Maybe we should use some rope to tie us together?”
Chalándril says, “That’s a great idea. Then if anyone slips, the rest can pull him out.”
“Him?”
“Or if he’s heavy, then he could pull everyone else in,” adds Merimonwë.
“Alright, here’s the rope. Let’s get moving.” The six members inch their way carefully across the slippery stone bridge. Just as Kotyka reaches the midpoint of the bridge, the water begins to swirl.
Bandric exclaims, “Why is it doing that?”
Water begins to slosh upon the bridge. The waves below begin to coalesce into a watery serpent. The water wyrm’s neck rises from the lowering water. It swims its way towards the bridge. The mouth opens and the sound of bubbling gurgles nearly deafens the group.
“I think it said ‘None shall pass’ in the water language.” Tolok mentions.
His companions look back at him. Bandric snarks, “You speak water gurgle?”
“Why yes. I speak several elemental languages. Many are necessary for the arcane arts. What shall we tell it?”
Chalándril thinks, “Ask politely if we can pass. Unless you can think of another way?”
“I have another way!” shouts Merimonwë, “Fireball!”
The water wyrm explodes in a ball of fire and steam. The headless, water-stump weaves back and forth, trying to get its bearings. Then it stops. Water pours into the vacant head shape recreating the serpents head. It roars again with a gurgling scream.
“Oh, that’s not good.”
Gûltar pulls out his ax and Kotyka draws her sword. Tolok remarks, “I do not think those will be effective against this magical, planar creature. You will need more powerful weapons!”
The water wyrm lunges forward with its jaws wide-open as if to engulf the dwarf and half-orc in one gulp. Just before its maw reaches the hapless two, Tolok casts a mighty spell. The water wyrm’s body evaporates into a fine warm mist. And then it is gone.
“What happened?”
Tolok begins to lecture, “Merimonwë had a good idea, but her magic is not strong enough to defeat the creature herself. Nor is mine. But together, combining our magic, we can overcome its existence on this plane.”
“So you blew it up.”
“Well, in a manner of speaking, yes. We blew it up.”
The Dungeon Knights continue moving across the ledge into the next hallway. There they untie themselves and move deeper into the crypt. The distant drip of water still echoes in the next chamber. The ever-present patches of the fungus are much lighter here than in the previous sections of the crypt. It is much darker here than near the phosphorescent fungi beyond the water wyrm.
Along the walls on either side of the passageway are carved images and strange symbols. These images and symbols appear to tell a story. The predominant figure is a well-armored goblin standing much larger than the other figures. He rides a vicious looking wolf with fiery eyes and bony protrusions along its dorsal side.
Near the end of this larger goblin’s story are six human-like figures. There appears to be a sudden attack with magic and steel. A strange monstrous figure arrives and pushes back the humans. The last frame shows several goblin pallbearers carrying the dead lord to a dark cave near a pool. There is an interesting section of the wall depicting a trail from a large river to the edge of a swampland. The map also gives details to a strange building deep in the swamp. It depicts various landmarks and locations of settlements. Atop the building is a strange symbol, perhaps a temple. The next section illustrates the goblin king with his ax held high in triumph over the capture of a devil inside the strange temple. A priestly goblin stands next to him. The priest appears he is communing with his deity.
“Now this I can read,” says Bandric. “No need to translate this. Pictures make it easy.”
“Bah!” retorts Gûltar.
The gnome pulls out paper and his charcoal. “No, this is very important. We must record this information. It may provide details for further exploration. Besides, this is part of our agreement with Kelwyn.”
-
Further in the hallway are two doors. The Dungeon Knights decide to open one of them. The square room houses the Waerlan Ghel’s personal guard. Several upright coffins hold small, mummified goblins. Their bodies are adorned in tattered burial wraps with war paint, ceremonial armor, and weapons. A goblin voice echoes off the room walls. Tolok is forced to translate, “For your intrusion, you will find death.” Arcane words follow.
“That last bit sounds like a necromantic spell, but…” He looks over at the mummified goblin zombies approaching. The mummies’ eye glow with necrotic energy. “It seems the magical voice activated the undead guards.”
“What’s with all the undead in this place?” Gûltar bemoans.
Merimonwë answers, “It is a crypt. Dead things live in crypts.”
Bandric adds, ‟Dead things should be dead in the crypts, not walking around bothering looters.”
Chalándril steps forward. “By the mighty light of the Great Mother, be gone aberrations of life!” A wave of brilliant light spreads out from her body. The light seems to eat away at the goblin undead, their wrappings and rotted flesh turning to white ash. By the time the light fades, all that is left are piles of ash on the ground with an assortment of old weapons and armor.
“Well, that was quick,” Bandric says wryly. “Time for the next room?”
‟The door is locked, possibly trapped,” Kotyka says. ‟Give me a few moments to check and unlock the door.”
Very few things bring happiness to the eyes of an adventurer, a dungeon delver or a professional burglar. This room is one of those things. The goblin lord’s treasure room is neatly stacked with urns, chests of copper and silver coins, rotting rugs and other fineries. The mummified remains of a big wolf lie in the corner, adorned with canine jewelry and other baubles. Kotyka’s eyes are wide open, “Now this is my kind of room. We can stop exploring now, right?”
“No, Kotyka. We’ll save this for later. Let’s push on and see what else is down here.” Kotyka grabs a handful of coins and baubles before she leaves.
-
The final large chamber appears to be the main crypt. Four small archways extend out of this room into small alcoves. The walls are decorated with carved reliefs of goblin warriors wearing different styles of armor and carrying different weapons. Each of the four alcoves contains a statue. Three statues are goblins in armor while the fourth is a large wolf. In the center of the room is a large sarcophagus with an ornate lid. A bas-relief on the lid depicts a resting warrior clad in ceremonial armor wielding a battle-ax. Upon the plaque is the name “Waerlan Ghel” written in the goblin language.
Bandric looks at the sarcophagus. “Why is the coffin so big? Goblins are little folks like gnomes and dwarves.” He looks over at Tolok and Gûltar, “No offense, my friends.”
Gûltar the dwarf inspects the stone workmanship of the sarcophagus. “Rather good for such an undisciplined, feral species. This whole place is well built. Not something I expected from goblins. Perhaps they used hobgoblins to do the work.”
Gûltar continues his examination. ‟This sarcophagus doesn’t have a lid.” The dwarf uses his pick ax to crack the faux lid. After a few well-placed hits, the sarcophagus’ side crumbles away. ‟Damn goblins, this sarcophagus is empty.”
The women look around near the statues for anything unusual. Bandric and Gûltar continue to examine the sarcophagus. Tolok, on the other hand, is enthralled by the far wall. “Oh, my! This very interesting yet puzzling device over here on the wall is most remarkable.”
Chalándril and Bandric’s head snap around. She says, “Don’t touch anything Tolok.”
“Oh, this is easy. A basic understanding of goblin mythos and symbology should result in a correct solution thus unlocking this device.”
Bandric races over to the gnome. “She said don’t touch anything.”
Tolok recites the poem:
“Worship if ye will,
at the feet of Waerlan Ghel.
To rest thy eyes on his noble ear,
Turn these knobs for he to appear.
First is second to the general.
Next is a stately fellow.
Follow by the lord of all,
And his friend in battle and sorrow,
Lest ye not choose right,
Curse ye now, forever blight.”
“Oddly, it does not rhyme in goblin, but it does in our language. Hmm.” Before Tolok can touch one of the four dials on the wall, Bandric pulls him back.
“Don’t touch, you silly gnome. We don’t know what will happen.”
“Yes, you are right. But this puzzle may lead to something interesting and valuable.”
The Dungeon Knights gather at the far end of the room. Tolok creates an ephemeral hand of magic that floats to the puzzle device. With the help of Kotyka’s magical goggles, Tolok turns the dials from a distance. With the final click of the last gear, half of the wall slides away. It exposes a smaller room and the gilded sarcophagus of the goblin hero Waerlan Ghel. There are no lights in this room. “See that was…”
Tolok stops mid-sentence as the group watches a transparent cube of ooze slowly slide forward, right across the dials. “That would have been bad.”
Merimonwë whispers, “What is that thing?”
“Something terrible,” Gûltar responds. “Bandric shoot it. The rest of you start blasting it with your magic. Whatever you do, don’t get close or it’ll suck you in and eat you.” It takes only a minute for the fury of arcane fire, arrows, daggers and other attacks to stop the advancement of the strange cube. It finally melts into a pool of sticky, icky goo.
Inside the small room, they find a small sarcophagus. “This must be the real resting place of Waerlan Ghel.”
“Should we open it?”
“No,” cautions Chalándril. “We’re out of spells and we’re exhausted. We have enough of his treasure. We don’t need to desecrate his sarcophagus right now. We can return later.”
Bandric pats Kotyka on the shoulders. “Now it’s time for that room, girl.”
-
Kelwyn’s eyes are lit with excitement. “This map you copied from the crypt, it is glorious! You have found the approximate location of the forgotten temple. Thank you so very much. I now have some of the keys and the possible location of the door.” His diverts from the group as he begins a mental inventory of what he needs to do. “There is so much more to do. I need to plan an excavation team to go to the temple. They’ll need supplies and information and…and… Oh, you’re still here. Let me sort this new information out and confirm this location with existing maps. I’ll keep in touch if you’re willing to explore the temple.”
Chalándril replies, “We’ll be around. Let us know when you have enough information to begin the trek.”
“Why does he keep calling it forgotten?” Bandric asks, “He seems to remember it exists.”
Merimonwë pats him on the arm, “Theatrics my dear Bandric, it sets the mood.”
The dwarf huffs, “Unless it was so dangerous somebody was trying to forget it.”
Kelwyn turns from his mental distraction. From the far side of his office, he half-mutters, “If you’re going to stay in Chulon, then why don’t we extend our business transaction? I do have a few other missions in mind. They require people with your unique skill sets and talents…and the willingness to travel to remote, dangerous countries.”
Bandric thinks for a moment, “We were going to look for more work, right after we sell of this loot, spend the money and enjoy the spoils.”
“Well,” begins Kelwyn, “I can help with unloading your merchandise if that is what you wish. Go enjoy your well-earned rest. Return here when you wish to venture forth again.”
Gûltar grunts, “Will these missions involved killing things?”
“Assuredly,” Kelwyn responds.
-
Meanwhile back in the crypt, the corner of the true sarcophagus rises slowly from its stone setting. A skeletal, rotten hand emerges and pushes the heavy stone to the side.
What is this attached to the rest of the hand? How can it free itself from its eternal slumber? We may never know. Next issue, the Dungeon Knights tackle a much more dangerous dungeon – one that will make the heroes petrified with fear.
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Location: outside of Chulon
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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“There’s got to be an easier way to find your keys.” – Bandric
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This was the sequel to my Living Greyhawk adventure, based on stories from my original campaign documented here.
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