The evil machinations of the goblin lords have led to the release of the dreaded Yuughathroth Nefkar. Against all odds, the fiend has submitted to their will and joined the ranks of the wolf rider army. But this is not a simple army of hungry goblins and snarling wolves. Somehow, the goblins and their wolves have become more powerful and hateful, full of malice. (Part Five of the Kelwyn’s Keys series)
A few weeks later, the Dungeon Knights are enjoying a night of culture in the fair town of Thanhal. A rich patron graciously gave the Knights tickets to the Thanhal Theatre, renown for its unique stories and talented band. The fact that they needed to clean up and wear fancy clothes didn’t sit well with the gruff Gûltar. Merimonwë even braided his beard so he’d look nice. Now, the Dungeon Knights stand in a two-block-long line for the play.
An unkempt scruffy lad is wandering aimlessly near the line to the local theatre. Another lad approaches and they start pushing and shoving. Half a block up ahead, a theater hand steps out and scolds the youngsters, “You there. Stop your roughhousing and get back in line!”
The two boys acknowledge the worker with a sarcastic tip of their hats. Then the chubbier one pushes the thin one right into the line. “He said back in line, ya twerp!”
The thin boy slams into Gûltar with an “oomph.” Gûltar pushes the boy back. “Watch it, lad. You’re likely to get yourself hurt playing like that.”
The fully cloaked Kotyka jump up, kicks off the wall in an acrobatic spin landing behind the boy with her knife at his throat. “You picked the wrong person to steal from. Now it’s time to decide between thy neck and thy illicit gains.”
The boy drops Gûltar’s coin purse. Alarmed, Chalándril puts her hand on Kotyka’s shoulder. “Have compassion Kotyka. These are just children much like you when you were their age. Perhaps this event shall serve as a learning experience.”
Kotyka whispers to herself, “Oh gods! What have I done? What have I become?”
Kotyka releases the boy, puts her knife away and pulls her veil higher. Kotyka slips back in line behind the others seeking the safety of the shadows. Her eyes tear up.
The line erupts in a wave of chatter and finger-pointing. Whistles begin to sound and the theater staff points wildly down towards you. Soon, four large watchmen hustle down the road to the heroes’ position. The first two watchmen have their swords drawn, while one in the rear pulls out stern looking manacles.
“What’s going on here?” The watch sergeant Argarano looks down at the street punks, “I know you. So, lightening the load of honest folk again, eh? Not this time you street vermin.”
Chalándril and Merimonwë attempt to explain what happened. Other people from the line add their opinions and recollection of the attempted robbery. “All right! I’ve heard enough, time to bring you two to the station.”
The sergeant nods and the other watchmen handcuff the cutpurses. Turning back to Gûltar, he continues, “You’ll need to come to the station with us…filling out paperwork and taking statements. You know the usual. Oh, I forgot to mention that’s not an option. It’s required of all our good folk here.”
Gûltar sighs, “Well, at least I don’t have to sit through the play. Lead on Sergeant.”
-
As Gûltar arrives at the station, the watchmen let him into their office. Even with hair clogged ears, Gûltar hears the screaming and ranting of a man in another room. The far door bursts open and two watchmen carry out another man. The loud man is struggling against their grip, trying to break free. His eyes are wide and bloodshot. The man’s hair is disheveled and he looks manic, almost crazy. He constantly pulls at the guards’ grip, hoping to escape their tight hold.
What’s striking is he looks vaguely familiar to Gûltar. The detainee screams, “We have to kill him! A devil is loose in the Barony. You don’t understand, I have money! I can hire people to kill that thing. The Baron can send soldiers to kill it. Let me go for the love of the gods, I have business with the Baron! Ow! That hurts. Don’t grab me so hard. Just let me go and I’ll explain everything. Don’t you know who I am? I’m a rich merchant from Chulon. I know your boss. He won’t …” A watchman punches Kelwyn across the face.
“That should shut him up for a bit until we get him in his cell.” The other nods approvingly.
Kelwyn looks a bit bedraggled, obviously from his resistance to the arrest and further scuffles with the watchmen. He wears fine clothes that are ruffled and dirty from his stint here at the station. The guards begin to bring him to a nearby cell. “We’ll let this one cool off for a few hours and see if his manners return.”
Gûltar scratches his beard. He says softly to himself, “Oh forge fires.” Then he says loudly, “Hold, I know that man. He’s a former employer and he’s not crazy. May I speak with him?”
The watchmen look at him, “You want to talk to this drunk? Sure, if you want to waste your time, go ahead. But he stays in his cell. You can talk to him through the bars.”
“What did he do?” asks Gûltar.
“He was at the tavern looking to hire mercenaries or something. Then he got furious over something foolish and started ranting. When the barkeep tried to calm him down, this chap got angry and started trashing the place. That’s when we got called in.”
“What did he get angry about? What set him off on his outburst?”
“Don’t know. Some of the tavern’s patrons reported him saying something about the lousy quality of adventurers in these parts…or something about the lack of bravery and honor. He offended a lot of locals and we don’t take kindly to that around here.” The burly watchman shoves Kelwyn’s limp body into the cell.
A younger watchman throws a bucket of cold water on Kelwyn through the bars. He wakes up sputtering. Kelwyn looks around and spots his friend Gûltar.
“Thank you so much for listening to me. It’s good to see a friend again. These people don’t understand the danger we’re all in. I found the location of Yuughathroth Nefkar – the fiend that slew my father. I want him dead. Did you hear me, I WANT HIM DEAD!”
Kelwyn regains his composure. “May the gods calm my spirit. I can’t seem to contain this rage in me. I need revenge on my father’s murderer. You were able to slay Yuughathroth Nefkar’s shadow. But, now I figured out where he is. He’s in a goblin village trapped in some sort of shrine or temple. It’s in the wild lands…somewhere in the Goblin Hills. Some criminal took my notes. It’s all there. Damn the treacherous thieves of this town.”
Gûltar looks askance with his eyes, “Is that what set you off in the tavern?”
“Yes, some crook lifted my notes right in the middle of a transaction. That should be illegal. Did that thief get arrested? No, I did.” Kelwyn breathes to calm himself. “Anyway, I think that’s where my father’s group cornered the devil and forced him to stay. I don’t know how they did it – that stuff is beyond my understanding. However, I need someone to go there and kill that devil once and for all. Permanently.”
Kelwyn grows serious. “You can help me, can’t you? I’ll pay well for this vendetta to restore my father’s honor. Please accept this job, I beg you. You’re my only hope.” Kelwyn looks at Gûltar expectantly. Not as a merchant in a commercial deal, nor as a helpless person seeking heroes. No, his look is that of someone seeking street justice. He wants his anger satisfied with the blood of his father’s killer.
The dwarf stands and says, “Fine. We’ll do it. I’ll convince the others to help. We could use the money and besides, I’d really like to kill Yuughathroth again, for good.”
-
Gûltar meets his friends outside the theater just as they exit the show. Merimonwë says, “That was a wonderful play. I really enjoyed it.”
“What? I missed it?”
Chalándril consoles the dwarf. “Gûltar you were gone for a very long time.”
“You did miss the best part,” adds Bandric. “There was a busty maiden in the next row. What a beauty!” Merimonwë elbows Bandric in the ribs. He lets out an “umph”.
“Let’s get back to our room at the inn.” As the heroes enter the inn for a quick meal, the innkeeper hustles over. “I’m so glad you returned. There’s someone here to meet with you. He seems very important, or at least he keeps talking with big words that sound important. I’m so glad you returned because he won’t stop talking. It’s maddening. Please speak with him right away so he’ll leave me alone. Please.”
The innkeeper leads the Dungeon Knights to a private room with several chairs and a table. Already at the table, the tall man’s eyes light up. The man wears a fine jacket with patches on the elbows. Glasses sit on his nose atop well-worn marks on his skin. “Oh, it is so good to see you again. When I found out that they wanted to hire my saviors, I offered to talk to you myself. Please sit down, we have much to discuss.”
Tol continues. “Last year, an organization loyal to the Baron contacted me on official business. It seems news of my abilities with translating various dialects of goblins has gotten around. They needed my expertise in this field to help with some translations and to help track recent goblin activity.”
Tol Muskegum takes out a series of notes and other official-looking papers. “I was brought into the organization after raids and attacks in the region known as the Goblin Hills increased. Some agents have discovered, through an informant, information regarding Ithayek, a foul yet learned goblin who fancies himself a breeding expert. We intercepted some documents relating him to a local goblin lord Lagoch and to the goblin were-wolf – who you slew previously. According to the notes, this goblin village,” he points to a map, “is a breeding compound. The village is built around a Shrine to the Wolf Mother.”
The professor looks around expectantly. When no one gets the connection of facts, Tol continues, “Intelligence reports claim it is, in fact, a breeding and training compound for fiendish goblins, strong wolves, and fiendish wolves. The Duke does not want this type of facility nor a goblin army within his borders. Therefore, my noble employers wish to hire you. You will serve as a tactical strike team. Your mission is to enter the village, stop the breeding program and slay or capture the leaders. We believe these leaders to be Ithayek and Lagoch.”
Bandric looks at the map and then at Tol Muskegum. “There are going to be a lot of goblins in there. I don’t own that many arrows, even if I could shoot them all.”
“Don’t worry about a village full of goblin warriors. The baron’s army is supplying a large strike force to lure the goblin forces away from their base for a full field engagement. Once the goblins have taken the bait, you go in and complete your mission. Will you serve the Baron and help the local villagers? Will you accept this mission?” Professor Muskegum pushes his glasses back on atop his nose and drinks his warm cup of tea. “Hmmm? The people need you.”
Chalándril breaks the silence, “Yes, we’ll take the mission.”
“Excellent! We believe the devil Yuughathroth Nefkar is with the goblin leaders in the village, but we can’t seem to pinpoint his location. If he is there, he’s probably being used in the breeding program, so you’ll have to stop him too. Use the power of the Blood-infused Crystal Heart to defeat him. Once he is slain, smash the crystal to permanently destroy Yuughathroth.”
“Remember, the leaders of the goblin horde and the breeding program must be killed or captured. They can not be allowed to escape and restart their program again.” Tol Muskegum hands over the Crystal Heart Blood Amulet and map. Tol adds, “Remember, once he is dead, smash this amulet. It must be done within one cycle of Chana after both his forms are slain; otherwise, both his shadow and material body will reform. That may seem like a lot of time, but the amulet has a nasty habit of teleporting away once his body is dead. You may only have a few minutes, or less before that happens.”
“Well, it’s time we head out to the goblin army’s main camp.
Gûltar leans over to Bandric, ‟Lad, I think we’re getting double pay for this mission. Don’t let the professor here know. Kelwyn offered us money for the same thing.”
Bandric smiles, ‟About time we earn some real money for our work. Good job, my bearded friend.”
-
The Dungeon Knights watch from the road as the final battalion of the baronial army disappears in the distance. It is now their job to travel around the other direction to meet up at the goblin village. The trip is uneventful as the rolling hills and nearly deserted villages pass by. The farmers and villagers who remain in the hostile area eye the heroes warily, often running into their homes for safety. The increasing raids by the goblins have made them all fearful and edgy. The forested area seems to lack sufficient wildlife—as if the land is over hunted. In the distance, Bandric spots the lingering smoke from a village’s chimneys.
He observes the village from a distance. Only a handful of goblins remain and most look relatively harmless. The wide trail of the goblin horde’s route to meet the human army is clearly visible. Tolok mentions, “Obviously, the goblin’s main force has taken the bait.”
Bandric cautions, “Regardless, let’s move in carefully. I don’t want to get surprised by a rear guard or some other security measure. These goblins are not of your average variety. They seem smarter and more organized.”
During the Dungeon Knight’s progress through the village, they spot a wandering goblin patrol. With guile and superior skill, they kill the unsuspecting goblins quickly. These goblin warriors seem easy to kill and lacked good martial skill. The Knights enter into the first building of several goblin-made buildings. The Knights see several rooms arranged for a variety of functions. There is a special room for infant goblins and their wet nurses. The motherly goblins cower in fear and attempt to shield the babies from attack. Fortunately, the heroes move on to explore other parts of the facility. Two other rooms house young and very young goblins. These little urchins are not the typical scraggly goblin. Some have leathery wings, others curved horns atop their brow, and still, others have cloven hooves for feet. They all have cruel red eyes and malicious grins. The largest room houses the older goblin children including a perch and loft for the flying variety. This barracks is filled with nice bunks and expertly crafted furniture.
In the hallway, Chalándril speaks quietly, “These are just children. This whole building is a nursery.”
“We should kill them.” voices Gûltar. “A goblin is a goblin and these will only grow up to be naughty. We’re just saving time and effort by doing it now.”
“No,” commands Chalándril. “We’ll discuss this later. They seem harmless enough right now. Let’s explore the rest of the village for our actual targets.”
“I agree,” responds Bandric. As they exit the building and walk towards the next structure, they are met in the wide alley by a pair of fiendish-looking-wolf riding goblins. One rises in his saddle and announces, “Mia nomo estas Errko Fen. Preparas mortiĝi.”
The other goblin lifts up his helmet and speaks, “Mia nomo estas Sharuuk Fen. Viaj mortoj estos rapide!”
Merimonwë says, “I don’t have time for this. Glitter dust!”
Sparkling, glittery dust rains down upon the goblins and their mounts. Errko Fen spurs his mount forward and charges at Gûltar.
Gultar says quietly to himself, “Wait for it, wait for it.”
Just as the lance gets in range, Gûltar steps to the side and swings at the shaft of the lance. Before his ax finds purchase on the weapon, Errko pulls it back and re-thrusts piercing Gûltar in the shoulder. “Ĉu vi ne vidis tiun, enano”
Sharuuk Fen spurs his mount forward and bears down on Gûltar too. Bandric fires a rapid block of arrows into the mount. The fiendish wolf stumbles and falls to the ground, launching its master into the air. With great agility, Sharuuk tumbles and lands with his lance in hand. Seizing the opportunity, Sharuuk instead attacks Tolok. The surprise move disrupts Tolok’s spell casting.
Kotyka scurries over to the far side of Errko Fen, allowing Gûltar a tactical advantage. She stabs the little goblin. His blood begins to blanket the fur of his evil wolf. Gûltar takes this opportunity to swing again, lopping off Errko’s shield arm. “Damn! I was aiming for the other one.”
Chalándril summons a phantasmal knife and sends it forth to attack Errko. Caught too close to melee combat, Tolok steps back and sends his magical cane flying towards Sharuuk. The small, wooden staff hits the goblin across the face before returning to its master. Sharuuk shakes off the hit and approaches the gnome. Bandric unloads another volley of arrows into the warrior goblin’s back. Sharuuk falls down and moans.
Merimonwë shoots her magical missiles into Sharuuk, hoping to finish him off. The goblin twitches one last time and becomes limp. Errko drops his lance, dismounts and draws a wicked looking blade. His mount turns and pounces upon Kotyka. Hot breath and saliva pour out of the snarling wolf’s mouth. It growls deeply scratching at the agile half-orc. The wolf proves to be too strong and heavy for Kotyka to escape.
Gûltar, on the other hand, engages Errko in a sword and ax battle. With blood pouring out of his severed arm, Errko begins to slow down. This allows Gûltar to swing a final blow, slicing the goblin warrior’s head clean off. Gûltar looks over at Kotyka, her bloody arm is held fast by the teeth of the fiendish wolf. Chalándril’s mystical dagger slashes at the wolf, opening a deep wound. The elven priestess steps up and focuses her holy energy upon the wolf. Under the intense goodness, the wolf releases Kotyka’s arm and slumps to the ground. Gûltar provides the ax’s pick point to the wolf’s skull for good measure. “Don’t mess with our burglar.”
Kotyka smiles. The black skin provides a stark contrast to her eyes and teeth. “Thank you Gûltar.”
“No problem, kid.”
-
A square building sits at the center of the tiny village (because goblins are small creatures). A large, carved edifice of a lying wolf adorns the northern face of the building. Its forelegs mold into the wall forming an awning for the ornate door. The carved forepaws flank the entranceway. The Dungeon Knights enter a dark room. A large statue of a fierce wolf growling lies at the far end. Flanking it on either side are offering altars and other religious tools. At the base of the statue, written in goblin, is “Wolf Mother.”
The room has two doors; one on the left wall and one around a corner to the right. The left one has all sorts of strange runes and square boxes carved into it. The other is a normal door. This room houses two fine beds, two tables, and a pile of notes, books, and scrolls. Spilling out of the other room is strange egg-shaped objects with strange color and texture. Aside from the plush accommodations, there are three goblins here. One is a wizened old goblin with a scraggly, white beard. The second is a cloaked figure with strange horns on his brow. The third is a thin, weasel-like goblin. All look quite annoyed at the intrusion.
Lagoch, the goblin with a white beard, says, “Ithayek, these must be the tomb raiders you hired. Obviously, they are more annoying than you let on.”
Ithayek replies, “Yes brother, I haven’t been able to track their movements since they killed my seer. But I don’t need a fortuneteller to predict their death today. Shachten Mar, kill!”
Shachten Mar, the third figure, growls and turns into a hybrid wolf-goblin. Snarling, he leaps into the fray landing next to Gûltar. He slashes at Gûltar with is powerful claws. The dwarf’s armor protects him from the lycanthropic claws. “Time to learn some manners, dog!”
Tolok takes the opportunity to turn invisible while no one is watching him.
Lagoch casts a spell at Chalándril and she stops preparing for battle. The spark of intelligence in her eyes fades. Kotyka grabs her arm and shakes. “Chal, are you all right?”
Ithayek casts a spell making Shachten Mar’s muscles bulge. The goblin wizard’s glow red with delight. The wolf-goblin Shachten snarls with new strength and continues to claw at Gûltar’s flesh. “By the maker’s beard! Get off me!” shouts Gûltar.
A ball of fire explodes around Ithayek and Lagoch. Merimonwë begins to cheer when Ithayek emerges from the dissipating smoke. He grins from beneath his cloak. “Fools, your fire magics do not trouble me.” He looks over at Bandric. “You’ll do nicely.”
With a wave of his hand and a long litany of arcane words, brave Bandric shrinks in size. Now the same height at Tolok and Gûltar, Bandric scoffs, “Great. Now all the men in this group are small.”
“You evil wizard types are getting on my bad side.” Bandric takes aim at Ithayek. “Let me return the favor.” In rapid succession, Bandric launches three small arrows towards the fiendish goblin. By the time they strike Ithayek, the arrows return to normal size. “Well now, things are looking up.”
Three very angry badgers appear. Tolok’s intangible voice directs them to attack the werewolf. With determination, the three animals rush towards the were-goblin and savagely bite various limbs. The wolf-man howls in pain. Shachten Mar yanks a badger of his body using his powerful jaws. Crack! The badger's bone breaks and falls limp in Shachten’s mouth. The were-wolf goblin allows the body to fall out of his mouth. His teeth drip with blood. He raises his clawed hand and points at Gûltar.
Merimonwë looks over to Gûltar, “Since you’re doing all the heavy hitting, it’s time for you to grow into your role!”
The dwarf begins to grow in size. “Enlarge! That’s better.” Gûltar hits the werewolf Shachten Mar. “Damn his skin is tough,” Gûltar exclaims.
Merimonwë says, “I believe you need silver to bypass his magical defenses.”
Kotyka replies, “Like this?” She draws her silver dagger and stabs Ithayek in the kidney. The goblin wizard slumps to the floor.
“No, the other one. Wait! I think it’ll work on him too.”
Lagoch grabs Ithayek’s body and declares, “You have not seen the last of us!” In a puff of smoke, the two figures vanish.
Abandoned by his leader, Shachten Mar looks at the wafting smoke. Gûltar takes this opportunity to power attack, sending his sharp ax blade deep into the wolf-goblin’s body. Shachten’s lifeless body falls to the floor. A pool of blood expands from his furry flesh.
Merimonwë and Kotyka attempt to shake Chalándril from her enchanted condition. Bandric looks around the shrine. “This doesn’t look good. They seem to be some sort of eggs.”
Gûltar taps one with his ax. “You’re the nature boy, what kind of critter hatches from this.”
“Well, these things weren’t mentioned in Ranger school. Maybe some sort of lizard or aquatic type”
Gûltar swings his ax, cracking an egg in half. “Or this.”
“Oh gods, that’s not right!” shouts Bandric. A miniature worm-like creature wiggles and writhes on the floor. Gûltar stomps it with his food. The gooey flesh sticks to his boot. Bandric continues, “They’re eggs of the Harbinger. These goblins are growing Harbingers of Doom.”
Bandric and Gûltar look at each other and back to the room filled with eggs. They begin to smash the eggs with aggressive, thorough efficiency. Soon their boots are covered in the egg innards and monstrous blood of the unborn creatures.
Merimonwë comes over and starts to yell, “You guys are making a huge mess. Stop play…” The elf sees the baby creatures. “Eew, never mind.”
Chalándril awakens from her magical stupor. Kotyka walks Chalándril back to the group where they find Tolok newly visible. The gnome begins to study the mysterious portal on a wall. After a few minutes trying to determine the best way to open the mysterious door, a strange apparition appears. The ghostly form rises from the floor. Its eyes are sunken and its intangible clothes rotted. A low moan drones out of its mouth.
“What is with all the ghosts? Are we ghost magnets?” asks Bandric.
Chalándril prepares to unleash her undead destroying powers, but Tolok cautions her with an upheld hand. “Please wait.”
The ghostly form writhes for a moment, then speaks. “My name is Kralis, a member of the Righteous Defenders. I wish to help you if you are willing to trust me. I know the secret of this door. Not the clues to open but the knowledge that it can only be opened from this side. Once you cross into the other side, I will use your solution to open the door again. This will allow you to pass through back to this world. It is the least I can do if you slay my hated enemy Yuughathroth Nefkar.”
Bandric says, “We already killed him.”
Kralis responds, “No, he still lives behind this wall.”
“Where have you been?”
“I was trapped on the other side in the prison dimension with Yuughathroth Nefkar. My friends and I were slain…years ago I assume. Only I survive in this undead form to complete my mission.” replies Kralis.
Merimonwë thinks. Her eyes widen. “Righteous Defenders? Are you related to Kelwyn?”
“Kelwyn? You know my little son. Yes, I am his father. He lives in Chulon with his mother. He must be a young man by now, growing his first beard.”
Merimonwë rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath, “Or smelly and fat.”
Chalándril asks, “How do you know that it is one way?”
“I’ve been stuck on the other side for years. Yuughathroth Nefkar has tried unsuccessfully to exit the prison. Recently, a goblin spellcaster was able to enter the prison. He quickly turned around and exited through the arch, but not before I made my way through too. Another goblin was helping him activate and deactivate the door. That’s how I learned the door must remain active for transit both in and out.”
Bandric interrupts, “Yuughathroth Nefkar gets stuck in prisons a lot, huh?”
“Yes, it seems to be his lot in life – to constantly be trapped by the forces of evil. Evil beings use other evil beings in cruel activities. So, they must also control and contain their evil subjects, lest they fall to betrayal. Once you slay him, he will no longer be a prisoner here, rather his soul will be trapped in the Accursed Realm.”
Chalándril tries to get the conversation back on topic. “Where will you go once you let us out?”
“I will go nowhere. Once Yuughathroth Nefkar is dead, my mission, my purpose in this unlife is complete. I will avenge the death of my friends and fulfill our mission to stop evil – especially devils. I will most likely cease to exist.”
Tolok asks, “Do you have any clues or information regarding the code? It would be most helpful.”
Kralis sighs, “Alas, I know nothing about the code. It deactivated before I could observe anything useful.”
Tolok looks over the puzzle. He consults a few of his small notebooks. “This is a wonderfully clever puzzle. See here, this will provide the solution.” The wall begins to fade exposing a swirling ripple of color. “Ah, the portal is active. Who shall be the first?”
Gûltar draws his ax and steps into the portal, followed by the rest of his companions.
After a few seconds, the swirling colors finally stop spinning. The Dungeon Knights find themselves on a large square slab of stone floating in the air. They can see other large, floating platforms of stone floating in the air to the side, above, and below their own slab. All the slabs are arranged in perfect lines. Around the Knights is a large archway that is 15 ft wide and 15 ft high.
Once the last of the Dungeon Knights arrive at the platform, the swirling colors fade. Bandric asks, “If we can’t communicate with him, how will he know when to open the portal. Or that we survived? What if he lets out Nefkar?”
Looking at the two corners near their position, Merimonwë sees two strange sigils engraved on the stone floor. The sigils are glowing in a strange bright orange color. The whole space is filled with a pale ambient light, neither too bright nor too dark. The far corners also contain glowing sigils. All the platform are other floating in a perfect grid pattern. Each platform is roughly square in shape, 55 ft. on a side.
Black smoke suddenly appears on the platform, and then instantly into a tall bearded man. The smell of brimstone drifts over to the Dungeon Knights. The man is a dark, muscular individual leaning against a wicked looking glaive. He cracks his neck to the side and deftly spins the glaive into his hands. His voice sends chills down your spine as he says, “So, you’ve come to play with poor Yuughathroth Nefkar, eh? Pity no one told you it’s a one-way trip to this accursed prison. Oh dear. Where are my manners?” His teeth shine as a cruel smile emerges from his face. “Please stay a while. I’d love to have my new guests…for dinner.”
The devilish man whirls his saw-toothed bladed glaive around as he charges forward. With seasoned skill, the glaive swings towards Gûltar. Using all his strength, Gûltar blocks the series of strikes with difficulty. “This guy knows what he’s doing with a glaive. I’m gonna need some help here.”
Bandric shoots arrows at the fiend. Yuughathroth swats them out of the air. “Your aim is off, fresh meat.”
Chalándril moves towards Gûltar but is nipped by Yuughathroth’s blade. Using her skills as a combat caster, she casts a blessing on Gûltar’s ax. “This should aid you against his natural fiendish defenses.”
“Aye, now this is gonna be a fight.” Gûltar steps in on the devil, launching his own series of attacks. One finds purchase opening a large wound. “This is going much better than last time.”
Merimonwë casts her own spell but the magic fizzles upon the devil body. Yuughathroth heckles, “Perhaps your spells are too weak to harm me, kitten. I’ll enjoy feasting on your lovely ears.”
Yuughathroth teleports next to Merimonwë and Bandric. Using a large circular motion, he trips both with his glaive. Quickly he attempts to follow up with a beheading of Bandric. Luckily the wily ranger is quick and dodges the nearly fatal blow.
Pop! Three large badgers appear surrounding the bearded devil. They attack with their enchanted claws and jaws nipping and cutting the devil. “You’ll have to do better than that. I am the almighty Yuughathroth Nefkar!”
As one of the badgers leaps to land a final bite, Yuughathroth slices it in half. The bloody pieces land on the platform. Yuughathroth continues to attack the other badgers and a stab at the approaching Gûltar. Kotyka continues to move around for a clear shot with her sword. She tumbles in and lunches for Nefkar’s back. The clever devil blocks her advance. “It’s getting crowded here. I need more space!”
Before the devil can teleport away, Gûltar lands another serious blow.
Tolok says, “The summoned badger should have returned from whence it came.”
“It’s a prison bub. I told you it’s a one-way trip. Now your little fairy rats have paid the ultimate price for answering your summons.” The bearded devil laughs as he teleports to the far panel.
‟You girl.” The devil points at Kotyka. ‟I know that skin color and sigil anywhere. Where you naughty and visited my last prison of Shumhanrhu. Boy, you kids get around. Hate to end your trips, but I do love killing things.”
Chalanril blesses Bandric’s bow with her spell. “Quickly, we need to defeat him before the portal opens.”
The devil snaps his head at the words, ‟Did you say the portal is open.”
Bandric rapidly fires a round of arrows at Yuughathroth. Several of the strikes land. Gûltar spins and charges. Yuughathroath lands a slice across Gûltar arm. The tough dwarf ignores the pain and attacks with focused fury. His ax hits the devil, opening a terrible wound. Kotyka tumbles to Gûltar’s flank and stabs the devil in the back.
Tolok places the Heart shaped Blood Amulet in the pool of blood by the devil. The final streams of blood leave the devil’s body, the Blood Amulet flashes with a pulsating rhythm. The smell of brimstone smolders from the amulet. Both his shadow and his physical form have been slain, only the amulet remains.
The pulsating amulet begins to flash faster. Gûltar lays the amulet on the ground and smashes it with his mighty ax. “There, that should do it.”
Kotyka learns by accident that the corner sigils act as teleportation pads. Each sigil corresponds to the matching sigil on the other platforms. Just thinking about which platform to visit determines which platform she arrives at.
After a brief reconnoiter of the other platforms, the heroes find four bodies of long-dead adventurers slumped over on a far platform. Investigating their bodies, Kotyka finds that one of them matches the likeness of Kralis. With Gûltar and Bandric’s help, they carry the bodies to the only platform with a portal archway. The colors begin to swirl, a hopeful sign that the portal is open. The Dungeon Knights and the bodies they found go through the arch.
The intangible form of the ghost Kralis appears. “You have found my body and the body of my companions. Oh, my good friends Aron Thul, Beromand, and Tythis Truthteller. I don’t know what happened to Fyodor. We fought well together. I do not have the right to ask you for another favor, but I will. Please bring our bodies back to civilized lands and bury them for me.” The ghost sighs. “And if you wouldn’t mind, tell my son I love him and I’m sorry. Thank you all.” His image fades.
After stowing all the loot and preparing the bodies for travel, the Dungeon Knights prepare to leave the little goblin village. Several horsemen ride into the village atop sweaty horses. They wear the armor of the Baron’s army. “Hail adventurers. I bring you good news. The Baron’s forces have broken the goblin line. They are routed and fleeing. We are here to prevent them from regrouping or finding solace at their camp.”
Bandric speaks, “All of the rear guards have been defeated. All that remains are the women and children. These children are unusual; they are full of malice and evil. Slaying them will be more difficult than usual.”
“Child or not, all evil must perish.” His forces enter the nursery and the sounds of screaming and battle begin.
“They are slaying the children. Time for us to leave.” announces Chalándril.
The trip back to Thanhal is uneventful other than the occasional minor skirmish with fleeing, wounded goblin warriors. At the stables by the inn, the heroes notice a familiar face, a haggard merchant Kelwyn. His eyes are tear-filled and his face red with emotion. He sees the wrapped bodies on the horses. “You have my undying gratitude. You have redeemed my father’s name and brought his body back from gods know where. Most importantly, you have slain my father’s murderer and given me the satisfaction of vengeance. My family is in your debt.” He bows low and begins to sob.
Bandric pats the crying man on the back gently. “Is this a bad time to ask about our pay?”
-
Meanwhile back at the Keep in the fortified center of Thanhal, the Baroness is crying. Her husband the Baron consoles her. The Baron looks up and addresses the robed man. “What is it? Why can’t you heal it?”
“I don’t know Baron. We’ve tried everything. It subsides for a few days and then returns anew.”
A little hand with green sores reaches out of the bed. “Mommy?”
The parents recoil in fear. The Baroness buries her head in the comforting arms of the Baron.
“Cough…cough” The girl’s face is covered with puffy green spots. Dark circles around her eyes and the clammy condition of her skin are obvious signs of her illness.
The healer bows his head and says, “Baron, you’re daughter has the incurable Green Spot Fever.”
What will the Baron do now? How will the Baron’s healers stop the disease from spreading throughout Thanhal? Find out in the next issue.
=======================================================================
Location: Outside the Thanhal Theatre
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 7)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 7)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 7)
Kotyka (Half-orc Rogue 7)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 7)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 7)
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“These kids are creepy looking.”– Bandric
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This the final adventure of the series that I wrote for the RPGA Living Greyhawk campaign, set in Nyrond. Here is it readapted to my home campaign in the Riverlands.
Showing posts with label Kelwyn's Keys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kelwyn's Keys. Show all posts
Monday, February 5, 2018
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Issue 018: Evil in the Heart
Kelwyn’s expeditions uncovered many nefarious secrets around Thanhal. One such secret is a magical device that can slay diabolical fiends. Does this weapon exist? The infamous Righteous Defenders, who helped in its supposed creation, never used it. Discreet officials wish to acquire that weapon and use it to destroy the last remnants of the rising goblin forces. Do the Dungeon Knights dare to search for this dangerous device? (Part Four of the Kelwyn’s Keys series)
The town of Thanhal looms ahead as the Dungeon Knights travel the long road towards its gates. There’s a brisk breeze in the air and the clouds sail gently across the sky. The final hill gives way to a long gentle descent into the fertile fields around the town. At the town’s gates, there is a winding line of people, sheep, goats and food-laden wagons. Out of the other far gate is a line of dung-filled wagons leaving for distant fields. Getting into town is going to take a few minutes.
Gûltar’s mouth is dry from the dusty road and he longs for the welcome comforts of a tavern. He rushes the others to assume a better position in the line to pass through the front gate’s inspection. The locals know this gate as Wagon Gate, popular with incoming merchants and farmers. “How much longer is this gonna take?” mutters Gûltar.
After several minutes of idle waiting, the heroes are in reach the guard towers bracketing the town’s almost massive gates. A tired looking human in tarnished armor motions to the pair of peasants in front of the heroes. “C’mon you, move ahead.”
As Bandric reaches the front of the line, the guard lifts his writing tablet and quill. With a dreadful sigh, he orders, “What is thy name and business in Thanhal.”
The guardsman sergeant, called Saulo by his friends, waits for Bandric’s answer. “Well? I don’t have all day.”
“I am called Bandric, leader of the Dungeon Knights.” He motions to his friends. Kotyka sinks deeper into her heavy cloak and veil. Then she nuzzles further behind Chalándril. “We’re returning from a short trip across the river and a bit further that way.”
“Why do you have such a big weapon?” Sergeant Saulo asks looking at Gûltar’s weapon and motioning towards Bandric’s bow. “Are you doing any hunting or killing in town? Before you get cocky, the answer better be, no.”
“Well, uh.”
“You, dwarf fellow, why isn’t thine ax peace bonded?” snaps Saulo.
Gûltar’s face snarls. “I didn’t realize thou hast got rid of all thy criminals and…”
“Thou art a smart-ass? We don’t need those here. We’re all full.” He looks askance at his guardsmen. “…even in the watch. Why are you wearing all that armor? You expecting a war? This is a town, not a tournament or some battlefield.”
Chalándril speaks up. “Sir, we are highly trained warriors previously in the service of the Kelwyn Merchant House. Without these weapons, we would not be able to ply our trade nor defeat the monstrous goblins that plague the area.”
Sgt. Saulo rolls his eyes and again sighs. “All right. You’re good…” His sentence is cut short by the alarm horn above. A guard on the tower yells down to Saulo.
“Sergeant Saulo, several mounted units are heading this way. There are a lot of them. We’re under attack!” He continues to sound the alarm. Other horns sound from other towers along the wall. The peasant folk in line begin to panic.
Gûltar elbows Bandric, “And he wonders why I wear my armor.”
The folk in line begin to rush the gate, forcing their way into Thanhal. The guards start pulling people behind the gates. Sergeant Saulo yells, “All you scum! Now listen up. Make an orderly line. Hurry up. Ya’ll be coming in just do it orderly. You there, forget about yer cow. Leave it! Just get in here, now!”
The gates begin to close as the guards hurriedly prepare for combat. Dust from the arriving forces looms close. Indistinct yells and barking get closer and closer.
“By the gods!” Saulo exclaims, “We’re not going to get the gates closed in time. Can anyone help hold the line?” He looks over at Bandric’s well-armed group. “Time to earn another reference and prove you are caravan guards. Stall the riders a bit while we get these people behind the gates. For the good of Thanhal, they need your help.”
Saulo turns away to help the line of panicked commoners and peasants enter the city. “Orderly line! Orderly line! By the gods, are you daft? I said orderly line!”
Arrows from the battlements fly through the air, hitting several of the riders and their mounts as they come into view. Small, leather-armored green and yellow-skinned creatures atop savage looking wolves bolt towards the walls. They continue their advance, running in zig-zag formations to elude the arrows. Still, the arrows put down several riders and mounts.
Now that the invaders are closer, the heroes see the goblins are arranged in small units – spread out over the field. One squad of goblins is headed straight for the Wagon Gate. The largest of three goblins headed towards the gate dismounts and yells from the top of his lungs, “My name is Nashtuk Fen, you humans killed my brother. Prepare to die.”
“Gods how I hate goblins!” yells Gûltar as he drops the backpack and readies his ax. “The whole goblins riding wolves thing is getting really old.”
The goblin cleric Feleru Nhol, an obvious priest to the goblin gods, casts a spell to bless and empower his fellows. Tolok notifies his friends, “I believe that fellow yonder is a priest of some sort. We should disrupt his ability to heal and help our foes.”
With a nod, Tolok throws a fireball centered on Feleru and the other goblin forces. Just as the smoke clears, Merimonwë throws her own fireball onto the crowd of goblins. The charred remains of several goblins and their mounts fall to the ground, smoky steam rising from their ashen remains. However, a wounded Feleru remains standing atop a dead mount. The goblin yells something profane in his language.
About this time, Nashtuk Fen arrives at Gûltar’s position. His lance digs deep into the dwarf’s flesh. Undeterred, Gûltar grabs the lance with his left hand and strikes with his ax from the right. He, in turn, leaves a grave wound on Nashtuk. “This isn’t my first dance with you wolf riders.”
Nashtuk dismounts and draws another weapon. The dwarf and goblin warriors engage in a long melee, exchanging blows. Feleru is able to cast a spell and takes flight into the air. Bandric takes aim and unleashes a volley of arrows upon the goblin cleric. A bit out of her element, Kotyka locates her short bow and fires off a few shots. Finally, Feleru succumbs to the wounds and falls dead.
Chalándril continues to provide cover and protection to the last remaining peasants caught outside the town’s gates. The half-human spots Gûltar engaged with an agile goblin. Before she can render aid, Gûltar drives the pick end deep into the goblin’s skull. The dwarf lets out a rage-fueled scream, his eyes wild with fury.
As Bandric surveys the battlefield outside the town walls, he sees the goblin forces retreating by foot and paw. The skill and luck of the town’s archers won the safety of Thanhal from the marauding goblin horde. And Wagon Gate is well defended by the bravery of the Dungeon Knights. The Far Gate didn’t fare so well. A thick black plume of smoke rises from the burning gatehouse. A team of guards is pouring water and sand on the gate in hopes of dousing the flames.
Several guardsmen from atop the nearby walls cheer the success. “Huzzah! You beat back that goblin general. Thanks for your help adventurers. You stalled the goblins long enough for us to get the innocents to safety.” Sgt. Saulo says, “I owe each of you a drink.”
Gûltar wipes the blood off his ax. ‟Now that’s payment I will enjoy.”
The town gate opens once again. Some guards flood into the field to loot…er…capture any surviving enemy. Several other guards pat the Dungeon Knights on their backs as they walk into Thanhal. “Just tell the Bartender at the Dancing Dog I owe you a drink. He’ll put it on my tab.”
Thanhal’s main road is filled with screaming children and weeping women, the threat of death still looming close in their minds. Many of Thanhal’s citizens wander out of their homes and businesses to learn about the excitement and horn blowing. The side streets and merchant stalls are filled with the frantic murmuring of gossip.
A small gnome wearing black traveling clothes approaches. Standing to his right is a large “man” with an umbrella. The large man patiently holds the umbrella over the smaller man – keeping the sunlight from hitting his dark clothes. Both men are dressed smartly and wear wide-rimmed black hats. The gnome and his giant-like assistant both sport dark glasses. The two sulk up to the Dungeon Knights, looking around nervously for eavesdroppers.
When all appears safe, the small man leans forward pushing the glasses forward on his nose. He looks at Chalandril with a serious glare. “Yah, we saw yah. Real heroic type stuff, yah see. We like that. Don’t we Gurlg?” The gnome elbows the hulking Gurlg in the leg.
“We sure do, Boss. Really heroic stuff they did. Kill a lot’a goblins they did. One, five, two, uh ten. No? Hey Gamalek, what’s after one?”
Gamalek elbows Gurlg’s leg harder. “Never thee mind. Now, back to why we’z here. Yah see, we need someone to perform a dangerous mission. All covert like, yah see. We contacted this sage, yah see, who will explain all the details, see.”
Gamalek motions the heroes towards the Dancing Dog Tavern. They enter the building; the bustling energy of the lively drinks feels like a shockwave to the nervous emotions outside. A large man with disheveled robes and lots of books under his arm approaches. His goatee and mustache show signs of graying, but otherwise, he is in good spirits. “You there. Hello! My very good friends, it’s me, Professor Muskegum, recently transferred to the Guild out of Weirdlingspire.”
Awkwardly balancing his books on one raised knee, he reaches in his robe pocket with his now free hand. Pulling out a bit of jerky, he takes a bite. The books begin to wobble and he jerks to keep them in his arms. “Whew, that was close. Anyway, I am in need of your services. Actually, the Guild is in need of your services.” Tol looks over at Gamalek briefly. “Your reputation and recent gallantry have proved you to be of excellent quality…and resourcefulness.”
“Get to the mission, Professor. Ya see, we’re under a deadline. See.”
“Huh? Oh yes, the mission! My research in the dealings with Kelwyn has uncovered some startling news. It seems those Righteous Defenders, his father was their primary fighter-type, developed some sort of devil slaying weapon – or perhaps a devil debilitating device. The good news—I think it’s here in Thanhal!”
He takes a deep breath, “Their wizard, Fyodor, lived here in a house over in the High Quarter. A nice house and all but I can’t very well enter into a potentially trapped or magically protected building. Oh that wouldn’t do. I am ill prepared to defend myself – against doctrinal thesis yes, against potential magical traps no. The Guild would like to get that device and study it. The Wizards of Weirdlingspire may be able to replicate the device once they study it. That would make fighting fiends a whole lot easier for you adventuring types. Wouldn’t it?”
The professor straightens up. “I’m authorized to reward you 100 guilder pieces each for your efforts in securing this device.”
The little man butts in, “You’ll be saving lots of people, see, hero type stuff and getting paid. The professor forgot to mention, half up front and half upon delivery of the item.”
Chalándril thinks for a moment. “That sounds sufficient. Some way of developing a weapon against extra-planar fiends is good in my book.” The others in her team nod in agreement.
-
Following the directions to Fyodor’s house is no problem. In the nicer part of town, it is easy to find homes in the clean, well laid out blocks. The house is a three-story dwelling with a fine, yet dirty exterior. The windows look as if they haven’t been cleaned in years. A curious paper is posted on his front door. Tolok approaches, “The note is written in the local language. It says:”
“House for Sale. To be auctioned off at Potopinka’s Auction House. Next Moonday at Noon. All proceeds towards back taxes. Inquiries taken at Potopinka’s Auction House.”
The door is locked with a stout lock box. It has the official heraldry of Barony of Thanhal. The note is signed by Musulak Griffinhollow, Realtor.
Bandric thinks for a moment. “Maybe we can have Kotyka pick the lock and we can look for the magic device.
“Bandric!” reprimands Chalándril. “We’re in an urban location with laws and rules of conduct. This isn’t some dungeon. We’ll just visit Master Musulak and explain our purpose. I’m sure he’ll oblige us the opportunity to enter the house briefly.”
Gûltar’s eyebrow raises but he doesn’t say anything.
-
The well-dressed gnome is called Musulak Griffinhollow, of the Griffinhollows in the Tin Hills. He is a consummate professional and is highly regarded by the townsfolk for his fair dealings and good demeanor. When asked about the house, Musulak says, “The old Fyodor Estate. Hmm, sadly that is in arrears for back taxes and the owner hasn’t been seen in seven years…at least. According to Royal law, the estate can be sold by auction to pay taxes and fees.”
Merimonwë flutters her eyes and asks, “Could we have a quick look around the house? We need to pick something up from Fyodor for our client. Please.”
Musulak says, “That is not possible. Last week was the last time for potential buyers to do a walkthrough. You’d need an official order by the Town Council to gain access, or buy the house at the auction. There is absolutely no way to get inside otherwise.” Musulak smiles, “Would you like to register to become bidders for the auction? I can give you discount for being good friends of the previous owner.”
Chalándril breaks in, “Maybe speaking with the auctioneer would be a good idea. Where can we find this gentleman?”
-
A rather portly and rosy-cheeked man approaches dressed in a rabbit-fur vest and other poorly selected items of clothing. The fashion-challenged proprietor hails you. “Hello, my good friends, I am Potopinka, chief auctioneer, and merchant excellanté!”
“We’re here in regards to the Fyodor Estate. Is there any way you can delay or cancel the auction?”
“Oh, the Fyodor Estate. I see. That is scheduled for auction this coming Moonday. At noon I believe. We can not take it out of auction at this time because it has become an official matter due to the taxes and such.”
“Tolok suggests, “What if we offer to pay the outstanding taxes and other fees? Could you cancel the auction then?”
“The time to pay the taxes has long since passed. The town council has put it to auction. There is no way to take it out of auction now.” Potopinka feigns sympathy. Then he smiles. “Would you like to enter your name for the auction? You could pay the taxes and take possession of the property all at once.”
“We will think about it. We’ll keep in touch.”
-
Sitting together at a table in the quieter section of the tavern, the Dungeon Knights ponder their next move.
“Do we have enough money to buy the house?”
“Not with the pay we’re getting from the Guild.”
“What about talking the bidders into letting us loot the place before they take ownership of it. Or we could talk with them. Hmm.”
“We could convince the local watch to let us investigate the house for possible squatters or theft or something.”
“Or we could request a permit to bless the house and remove any maligned spirits. We just need to get in good with the local Temple.”
They all take a deep gulp from their mugs. Bandric off-handedly says, “My idea about breaking in seems the best idea so far.”
“No, we can’t do it. Not where other citizens can see us.”
Kotyka’s eyes light up. “Can’t break in? Let’s enter through the sewers. All these fancy houses have a personal line to the sewers.”
-
Bandric says to himself, “This seems really familiar. Like I’ve been here doing this before.”
Gûltar snaps, “Dungeon, sewers, it’s all the same after awhile. Now focus on what you’re doing.”
Kotyka quips, ‟We have done this before in these sewers.”
Bandric stops suddenly. “I hear something.”
Merimonwë’s ears perk up. “I hear it too.”
The ranger redirects the lantern light down the sewer tunnel. A float crocodile glides towards their location. “I didn’t think there really was a crocodile in the sewers. At least not since our last encounter.” Scoffs Bandric. [Issue 004]
Merimonwë says, “We don’t have time for this!” She casts a sleep spell on the crocodile. The scaled body begins to drift deeper into the water until it finally disappears.
The Dungeon Knights continue down the sewer until they reach the approximate location of Fyodor’s estate. Gûltar looks around. “Aye, this should be the place.”
Kotyka lowers her goggles and looks around. She finds a well-concealed door in a recessed alcove. Looking around for traps, she fails to locate any. “The door appears to be locked.” The half-orc retrieves her lock pick set and begins work in earnest.
The door suddenly slams into her and quickly closes. “What the…” yells Bandric.
Kotyka gets up, slightly stunned by the sudden hit. “I don’t know what…” The door quickly opens again and slams into Kotyka. She falls unconscious.
Before anyone can grab the door handle, the door slams shut. A mouth on the door appears and says, “Do not enter. This house is protected by the great and powerful Fyodor. This is your last warning.”
Merimonwë and Bandric reach over and grab the limp body of Kotyka. They pull her to safety. Tolok says, “I could cast a spell to unlock the door but I think something else is at work here.”
“Aye, I know what it is!” retorts Gûltar. “This is a magical door and I have a dwarven key for wooden doors.”
The dwarf spins his ax around and drives the pick end deep into the door. The metal pick digs deep into the wood. Pinned, the door begins to shake attempting to open itself. Gûltar wiggles the pick creating cracks in the wood. Finally, he pulls the pick out. The door opens suddenly and then begins to close. Gûltar turns his ax around and swings the ax head through the door. The wooden door splits in two and stops moving.
“Steel trumps magic. It’s an old Dwarven saying.”
As the Dungeon Knights make their way into the house, the musty air and thick dust rise with every step. They reach the main hall and enter into the house from the cellar stairway. Looking around, they see table and chairs fallen over. Progressing further into the house, they spot small, decayed bodies of rats and other vermin littered all over the floor. Some are tucked into little makeshift nests while the bodies seem to leave a trail into other rooms.
The thick, cloth curtains are closed. Chalándril opens one of the curtains. Beams of light pierce the darkness like dusty knives. The old furniture looks nice but neglected. The colors are red velvet, brightly colored tapestries, and darkly stained wood tables. Overall, this is a respectable house for a wizard.
In the study, the room seems more in shambles than usual. It also has more than its fair share of rat and vermin skeletons. There are also old piles of excrement near the walls and next to overturned wardrobes. Bandric kicks one of the tiny mouse skeletons. It hits the far wall, landing with a thud. It rights itself and starts scurrying towards the group.
“Oh no it didn’t!” screams Bandric. “These stupid mice aren’t dead, they’re undead.”
As the others turn to see what Bandric is screaming about, a flood of decayed skeletal mice swarm in from the next room. Like a dark wave of death, they scamper on the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Without waiting for an invitation, Chalándril acts. “By the sacred names of the Goddess and the God, begone ye vermin of undeath, ye mockery of nature.”
A bright wave of light bursts from her body; passing over the skeletons like a tide. The dead bodies once again fall lifeless to the ground. Gûltar crushes one under his boot.
“We should go upstairs.”
As Kotyaka opens the door, she sees tables with glass beakers and jars filled with viscous goo. An ornate bookcase leans against the far wall. The room houses many books and scrolls. An odd assortment of bestial skulls and preserved monster parts sit in sorted bins and cupboards. This looks like some sort of mystic library or arcane laboratory. A large bluish-green blanket covers a very tall, thin piece of furniture. Everything here is coated with a thick layer of dust. The air in this room is stale and musty. It seems no one has used this room in years.
Kotyka removes the blanket to expose a large object, a full-length mirror. The base is ornately crafted of fine brass. The mirror is large and well polished. Inside the mirror, a figure of a man covers his face from the sudden exposure to light.
“Ahhgg! What’s that?” He stammers. “You thieves get out of here or I will smite you with my magic!”
Merimonwë walks up to the mirror. “What and who art thou?”
“I’m warning thee. Begone thieves!”
“We’re not thieves. We’re adventurers and where here to retrieve a weapon to fight fiends.”
“Oh, I am quite grateful for that fact. Whew. I’m actually trapped in this mirror. I don’t see Master Fyodor. Is he with thee? Did he send thee?
Tolok approaches, “Sir, Master Fyodor is presumed dead. He has not been here for over seven years.”
“What? He’s dead? Oh dear no. Who will get me out of here?” He cries.
Soon the Mirror Man regains his composure and says, “My name is Varush, chief apprentice to Master Fyodor. How may I help you?”
Chalándril replies, “Well met Varush. Perhaps we can help each other. How did you get into the mirror?”
“That was an accident. While waiting for Fyodor to return, I was toying with some new spells and didn’t understand the arcane force I activated. The spell’s failure sucked me into this mirror.”
“How do we get you out of the mirror?”
“I really don’t know. I hoped my master would be able to help.”
Chalándril looks over at Tolok. “We’ll pool our resources and figure out a way to release you. Give us a little while to determine possible solutions. What is Fyodor’s secret weapon?”
“The Crystal Heart. It’s an astral diamond cut into a multifaceted heart-shaped gemstone. It is masterfully crafted to be a magical focus, a weapon against devils. You must pour a devil’s blood onto the crystal. The evil blood is absorbed into the center of the crystal. At that point, it is ready for use. Simply being in the area of the Crystal Heart will weaken devils. It saps some of their natural planar traits making them easier to kill. However, getting the blood in the first place has proved to be the devices weakness.”
“I see,” replies Chalándril. “Who are the Righteous Defenders?”
“The Righteous Defenders are five seasoned warriors, Kralis of Chulon, the party’s warrior, Aron Thul the Devilslayer, a man who hates devils and was the group’s leader, Beromand the Pious, their priest and healer, Tythis Truthteller, the party’s paladin, and Fyodor, the party’s wizard and arcane specialist. They were quite good at what they did. Sadly, most of them died during a fight with a tricky devil and his goblin associates.”
“Do you know Kelwyn?”
“No. Oh wait, I think Kralis had a young son named Kelwyn. Is that who you’re talking about?”
“Yes, we met him a few months ago.” Chalándril looks at her companions. “Now at least we know what to look for, this crystal heart. Do you know where Fyodor hid the crystal heart?”
Varush answers, “No, I do not.”
Chalándril and Tolok discuss their options. Finally, they approach the magic mirror and inform the apprentice how they’ll remove him from the mirror. After a long incantation and ritualistic procedures, the young man is drawn from the mirror and stands next to his rescuers.
“Thank you so much.”
Gûltar nudges him, “Now just stay out of trouble and don’t play with alchemy or spells unless you know what you’re doing.”
‟Yes sir, master Dwarf. Yes, sir.” replies Varush.
-
The top floor of the house is a greenhouse for Fyodor’s garden. Large, glass windows allow light into the greenhouse. An automatic, clockwork watering system keeps them watered. The flowers and plants seem unusually large for such a small, rooftop garden. The heroes and Varush walk out of the stairwell onto the roof.
The overgrown planters and containers are ripe with verdant vegetation. Their approach causes an ear-piercing sound. The heroes all cover their ears and move away from the sound. Bandric points towards Varush, “Varush, that big fungus plant. I think it’s emitting the sound. Smash it!” yells Bandric.
Varush moves into the vegetation with a big stick. “Ow, I pricked my leg on these other pointy fungi. It really hurts…” The young human collapses into the fungus patch.
“Damn!”
Gûltar and Kotyka run over to retrieve Varush. Merimonwë yells, “Look out!”
A long vine reaches down and snatches the completely robed figure of Kotyka, pulling her up into the rafters. Gûltar yells, “I can’t reach her. I’ll finish off these blaring toadstools, the rest of you kill that plant thing.”
The dwarf commences with weeding the garden using his mighty ax. Tolok exclaims, “If I use a spell, Kotyka will be caught in the area of effect.”
“It’s hard for me to aim too. She keeps struggling and moving around. We need to find the base stalk or trunk. Then we can attack that.”
With a wriggle, Kotyka cuts herself out of her robes. Her black-skinned form drops to the ground. “I’m free.”
Merimonwë and Tolok smile at each other. Two fireballs explode at the far end of the greenhouse sending scorching flames up to the edge of the garden. Bandric fires his arrows but is picked up by another vine. Merimonwë and Kotyka grab his legs trying to keep him on the ground.
“Do I have to kill everything myself?” grumbles Gûltar. He races over to a soot-covered trunk and hews a large chunk out of the vine’s body. A few more strikes and the assassin vine goes limp.
“Where’s Varush?”
They find his lifeless body strangled and poisoned among the hacked up fungi. “I think he was safer in the mirror.” chimes Bandric.
In the far corner of the penthouse garden is a tool shed. Inside there are racks of gardening equipment, broken chairs from the dining room, a crystal mobile wind chime, sacks of soil and pruning shears. Tolok concentrates and detects for magic. Within seconds, he determines where the magical crystal heart is located. With great care, Kotyka removes the Crystal Heart from the crystal mobile wind chime.
The Dungeon Knights return the Crystal Heart to Gamalek and Professor Tol. At least now this potent weapon can be used by people more powerful and capable than the Dungeon Knights.
-
A decade or so ago:
A goblin lord meets with Yuughathroth Nefkar in a large shrine. They discuss things at great length. A female goblin sentry interrupts their meeting. She points over to an area beyond the open where noise is brewing. Both the goblin lord and devil look over to where she points. A large explosion erupts from that location sending goblin bodies raining down near Lagoch and Yuughathroth. Other goblins including the robed Ithayek arrive from the depths of the shrine to lend aid.
The Righteous Defenders, a band of humans, appear from the dispersing smoke, enter the shrine and begin to fight Lagoch and Yuughathroth. Lagoch opens a portal on the wall using his magic. Ithayek and the other goblin mystics help force the humans into the undulating portal. Yuughathroth is caught in the assault and is pushed into the portal. The wizard Fyodor is left outside the wall portal. He casts a spell causing the gateway to shut. The portal winks out of existence.
The remaining goblin mystics are enraged. They scream, yell and gnash their teeth in anger. Their beady little eyes turn to Fyodor. The eyes are filled with malice and hate. Before they can kill the human, Fyodor casts his teleport spell.
Later that day, Lagoch and Ithayek are talking in the breeding hutch. Lagoch says in the goblin tongue, “Enough of the women are pregnant. It’s not a total loss. Our plans may still work out.”
Lagoch looks at Ithayek sternly. “I have another project for you. You need to locate and recover a monster with unusual properties, the Harbinger of Doom.” He hands Ithayek a whistle to control the unique monster. “The beast is not of this world but it is just a beast. Use great care when releasing it from its prison; it may not distinguish friends from foes. It will, however, provide us with a great advantage. Use this whistle to control it.”
Ithayek takes the whistle. Though his hood hangs low over his face, a toothy smile is visible.
-
Who will use the powerful Heart against the foul enemies? What will the Dungeon Knights do now? Find out next issue.
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Location: Thanhal, a walled town along the river
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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“This guy needs a new housekeeper…and an exterminator.”– Bandric
=======================================================================
This adventure is based on one I was writing for Living Greyhawk, but this module was canceled so I could write the final installment before the campaign ended. Sadly, no one officially played in this adventure.
The town of Thanhal looms ahead as the Dungeon Knights travel the long road towards its gates. There’s a brisk breeze in the air and the clouds sail gently across the sky. The final hill gives way to a long gentle descent into the fertile fields around the town. At the town’s gates, there is a winding line of people, sheep, goats and food-laden wagons. Out of the other far gate is a line of dung-filled wagons leaving for distant fields. Getting into town is going to take a few minutes.
Gûltar’s mouth is dry from the dusty road and he longs for the welcome comforts of a tavern. He rushes the others to assume a better position in the line to pass through the front gate’s inspection. The locals know this gate as Wagon Gate, popular with incoming merchants and farmers. “How much longer is this gonna take?” mutters Gûltar.
After several minutes of idle waiting, the heroes are in reach the guard towers bracketing the town’s almost massive gates. A tired looking human in tarnished armor motions to the pair of peasants in front of the heroes. “C’mon you, move ahead.”
As Bandric reaches the front of the line, the guard lifts his writing tablet and quill. With a dreadful sigh, he orders, “What is thy name and business in Thanhal.”
The guardsman sergeant, called Saulo by his friends, waits for Bandric’s answer. “Well? I don’t have all day.”
“I am called Bandric, leader of the Dungeon Knights.” He motions to his friends. Kotyka sinks deeper into her heavy cloak and veil. Then she nuzzles further behind Chalándril. “We’re returning from a short trip across the river and a bit further that way.”
“Why do you have such a big weapon?” Sergeant Saulo asks looking at Gûltar’s weapon and motioning towards Bandric’s bow. “Are you doing any hunting or killing in town? Before you get cocky, the answer better be, no.”
“Well, uh.”
“You, dwarf fellow, why isn’t thine ax peace bonded?” snaps Saulo.
Gûltar’s face snarls. “I didn’t realize thou hast got rid of all thy criminals and…”
“Thou art a smart-ass? We don’t need those here. We’re all full.” He looks askance at his guardsmen. “…even in the watch. Why are you wearing all that armor? You expecting a war? This is a town, not a tournament or some battlefield.”
Chalándril speaks up. “Sir, we are highly trained warriors previously in the service of the Kelwyn Merchant House. Without these weapons, we would not be able to ply our trade nor defeat the monstrous goblins that plague the area.”
Sgt. Saulo rolls his eyes and again sighs. “All right. You’re good…” His sentence is cut short by the alarm horn above. A guard on the tower yells down to Saulo.
“Sergeant Saulo, several mounted units are heading this way. There are a lot of them. We’re under attack!” He continues to sound the alarm. Other horns sound from other towers along the wall. The peasant folk in line begin to panic.
Gûltar elbows Bandric, “And he wonders why I wear my armor.”
The folk in line begin to rush the gate, forcing their way into Thanhal. The guards start pulling people behind the gates. Sergeant Saulo yells, “All you scum! Now listen up. Make an orderly line. Hurry up. Ya’ll be coming in just do it orderly. You there, forget about yer cow. Leave it! Just get in here, now!”
The gates begin to close as the guards hurriedly prepare for combat. Dust from the arriving forces looms close. Indistinct yells and barking get closer and closer.
“By the gods!” Saulo exclaims, “We’re not going to get the gates closed in time. Can anyone help hold the line?” He looks over at Bandric’s well-armed group. “Time to earn another reference and prove you are caravan guards. Stall the riders a bit while we get these people behind the gates. For the good of Thanhal, they need your help.”
Saulo turns away to help the line of panicked commoners and peasants enter the city. “Orderly line! Orderly line! By the gods, are you daft? I said orderly line!”
Arrows from the battlements fly through the air, hitting several of the riders and their mounts as they come into view. Small, leather-armored green and yellow-skinned creatures atop savage looking wolves bolt towards the walls. They continue their advance, running in zig-zag formations to elude the arrows. Still, the arrows put down several riders and mounts.
Now that the invaders are closer, the heroes see the goblins are arranged in small units – spread out over the field. One squad of goblins is headed straight for the Wagon Gate. The largest of three goblins headed towards the gate dismounts and yells from the top of his lungs, “My name is Nashtuk Fen, you humans killed my brother. Prepare to die.”
“Gods how I hate goblins!” yells Gûltar as he drops the backpack and readies his ax. “The whole goblins riding wolves thing is getting really old.”
The goblin cleric Feleru Nhol, an obvious priest to the goblin gods, casts a spell to bless and empower his fellows. Tolok notifies his friends, “I believe that fellow yonder is a priest of some sort. We should disrupt his ability to heal and help our foes.”
With a nod, Tolok throws a fireball centered on Feleru and the other goblin forces. Just as the smoke clears, Merimonwë throws her own fireball onto the crowd of goblins. The charred remains of several goblins and their mounts fall to the ground, smoky steam rising from their ashen remains. However, a wounded Feleru remains standing atop a dead mount. The goblin yells something profane in his language.
About this time, Nashtuk Fen arrives at Gûltar’s position. His lance digs deep into the dwarf’s flesh. Undeterred, Gûltar grabs the lance with his left hand and strikes with his ax from the right. He, in turn, leaves a grave wound on Nashtuk. “This isn’t my first dance with you wolf riders.”
Nashtuk dismounts and draws another weapon. The dwarf and goblin warriors engage in a long melee, exchanging blows. Feleru is able to cast a spell and takes flight into the air. Bandric takes aim and unleashes a volley of arrows upon the goblin cleric. A bit out of her element, Kotyka locates her short bow and fires off a few shots. Finally, Feleru succumbs to the wounds and falls dead.
Chalándril continues to provide cover and protection to the last remaining peasants caught outside the town’s gates. The half-human spots Gûltar engaged with an agile goblin. Before she can render aid, Gûltar drives the pick end deep into the goblin’s skull. The dwarf lets out a rage-fueled scream, his eyes wild with fury.
As Bandric surveys the battlefield outside the town walls, he sees the goblin forces retreating by foot and paw. The skill and luck of the town’s archers won the safety of Thanhal from the marauding goblin horde. And Wagon Gate is well defended by the bravery of the Dungeon Knights. The Far Gate didn’t fare so well. A thick black plume of smoke rises from the burning gatehouse. A team of guards is pouring water and sand on the gate in hopes of dousing the flames.
Several guardsmen from atop the nearby walls cheer the success. “Huzzah! You beat back that goblin general. Thanks for your help adventurers. You stalled the goblins long enough for us to get the innocents to safety.” Sgt. Saulo says, “I owe each of you a drink.”
Gûltar wipes the blood off his ax. ‟Now that’s payment I will enjoy.”
The town gate opens once again. Some guards flood into the field to loot…er…capture any surviving enemy. Several other guards pat the Dungeon Knights on their backs as they walk into Thanhal. “Just tell the Bartender at the Dancing Dog I owe you a drink. He’ll put it on my tab.”
Thanhal’s main road is filled with screaming children and weeping women, the threat of death still looming close in their minds. Many of Thanhal’s citizens wander out of their homes and businesses to learn about the excitement and horn blowing. The side streets and merchant stalls are filled with the frantic murmuring of gossip.
A small gnome wearing black traveling clothes approaches. Standing to his right is a large “man” with an umbrella. The large man patiently holds the umbrella over the smaller man – keeping the sunlight from hitting his dark clothes. Both men are dressed smartly and wear wide-rimmed black hats. The gnome and his giant-like assistant both sport dark glasses. The two sulk up to the Dungeon Knights, looking around nervously for eavesdroppers.
When all appears safe, the small man leans forward pushing the glasses forward on his nose. He looks at Chalandril with a serious glare. “Yah, we saw yah. Real heroic type stuff, yah see. We like that. Don’t we Gurlg?” The gnome elbows the hulking Gurlg in the leg.
“We sure do, Boss. Really heroic stuff they did. Kill a lot’a goblins they did. One, five, two, uh ten. No? Hey Gamalek, what’s after one?”
Gamalek elbows Gurlg’s leg harder. “Never thee mind. Now, back to why we’z here. Yah see, we need someone to perform a dangerous mission. All covert like, yah see. We contacted this sage, yah see, who will explain all the details, see.”
Gamalek motions the heroes towards the Dancing Dog Tavern. They enter the building; the bustling energy of the lively drinks feels like a shockwave to the nervous emotions outside. A large man with disheveled robes and lots of books under his arm approaches. His goatee and mustache show signs of graying, but otherwise, he is in good spirits. “You there. Hello! My very good friends, it’s me, Professor Muskegum, recently transferred to the Guild out of Weirdlingspire.”
Awkwardly balancing his books on one raised knee, he reaches in his robe pocket with his now free hand. Pulling out a bit of jerky, he takes a bite. The books begin to wobble and he jerks to keep them in his arms. “Whew, that was close. Anyway, I am in need of your services. Actually, the Guild is in need of your services.” Tol looks over at Gamalek briefly. “Your reputation and recent gallantry have proved you to be of excellent quality…and resourcefulness.”
“Get to the mission, Professor. Ya see, we’re under a deadline. See.”
“Huh? Oh yes, the mission! My research in the dealings with Kelwyn has uncovered some startling news. It seems those Righteous Defenders, his father was their primary fighter-type, developed some sort of devil slaying weapon – or perhaps a devil debilitating device. The good news—I think it’s here in Thanhal!”
He takes a deep breath, “Their wizard, Fyodor, lived here in a house over in the High Quarter. A nice house and all but I can’t very well enter into a potentially trapped or magically protected building. Oh that wouldn’t do. I am ill prepared to defend myself – against doctrinal thesis yes, against potential magical traps no. The Guild would like to get that device and study it. The Wizards of Weirdlingspire may be able to replicate the device once they study it. That would make fighting fiends a whole lot easier for you adventuring types. Wouldn’t it?”
The professor straightens up. “I’m authorized to reward you 100 guilder pieces each for your efforts in securing this device.”
The little man butts in, “You’ll be saving lots of people, see, hero type stuff and getting paid. The professor forgot to mention, half up front and half upon delivery of the item.”
Chalándril thinks for a moment. “That sounds sufficient. Some way of developing a weapon against extra-planar fiends is good in my book.” The others in her team nod in agreement.
-
Following the directions to Fyodor’s house is no problem. In the nicer part of town, it is easy to find homes in the clean, well laid out blocks. The house is a three-story dwelling with a fine, yet dirty exterior. The windows look as if they haven’t been cleaned in years. A curious paper is posted on his front door. Tolok approaches, “The note is written in the local language. It says:”
“House for Sale. To be auctioned off at Potopinka’s Auction House. Next Moonday at Noon. All proceeds towards back taxes. Inquiries taken at Potopinka’s Auction House.”
The door is locked with a stout lock box. It has the official heraldry of Barony of Thanhal. The note is signed by Musulak Griffinhollow, Realtor.
Bandric thinks for a moment. “Maybe we can have Kotyka pick the lock and we can look for the magic device.
“Bandric!” reprimands Chalándril. “We’re in an urban location with laws and rules of conduct. This isn’t some dungeon. We’ll just visit Master Musulak and explain our purpose. I’m sure he’ll oblige us the opportunity to enter the house briefly.”
Gûltar’s eyebrow raises but he doesn’t say anything.
-
The well-dressed gnome is called Musulak Griffinhollow, of the Griffinhollows in the Tin Hills. He is a consummate professional and is highly regarded by the townsfolk for his fair dealings and good demeanor. When asked about the house, Musulak says, “The old Fyodor Estate. Hmm, sadly that is in arrears for back taxes and the owner hasn’t been seen in seven years…at least. According to Royal law, the estate can be sold by auction to pay taxes and fees.”
Merimonwë flutters her eyes and asks, “Could we have a quick look around the house? We need to pick something up from Fyodor for our client. Please.”
Musulak says, “That is not possible. Last week was the last time for potential buyers to do a walkthrough. You’d need an official order by the Town Council to gain access, or buy the house at the auction. There is absolutely no way to get inside otherwise.” Musulak smiles, “Would you like to register to become bidders for the auction? I can give you discount for being good friends of the previous owner.”
Chalándril breaks in, “Maybe speaking with the auctioneer would be a good idea. Where can we find this gentleman?”
-
A rather portly and rosy-cheeked man approaches dressed in a rabbit-fur vest and other poorly selected items of clothing. The fashion-challenged proprietor hails you. “Hello, my good friends, I am Potopinka, chief auctioneer, and merchant excellanté!”
“We’re here in regards to the Fyodor Estate. Is there any way you can delay or cancel the auction?”
“Oh, the Fyodor Estate. I see. That is scheduled for auction this coming Moonday. At noon I believe. We can not take it out of auction at this time because it has become an official matter due to the taxes and such.”
“Tolok suggests, “What if we offer to pay the outstanding taxes and other fees? Could you cancel the auction then?”
“The time to pay the taxes has long since passed. The town council has put it to auction. There is no way to take it out of auction now.” Potopinka feigns sympathy. Then he smiles. “Would you like to enter your name for the auction? You could pay the taxes and take possession of the property all at once.”
“We will think about it. We’ll keep in touch.”
-
Sitting together at a table in the quieter section of the tavern, the Dungeon Knights ponder their next move.
“Do we have enough money to buy the house?”
“Not with the pay we’re getting from the Guild.”
“What about talking the bidders into letting us loot the place before they take ownership of it. Or we could talk with them. Hmm.”
“We could convince the local watch to let us investigate the house for possible squatters or theft or something.”
“Or we could request a permit to bless the house and remove any maligned spirits. We just need to get in good with the local Temple.”
They all take a deep gulp from their mugs. Bandric off-handedly says, “My idea about breaking in seems the best idea so far.”
“No, we can’t do it. Not where other citizens can see us.”
Kotyka’s eyes light up. “Can’t break in? Let’s enter through the sewers. All these fancy houses have a personal line to the sewers.”
-
Bandric says to himself, “This seems really familiar. Like I’ve been here doing this before.”
Gûltar snaps, “Dungeon, sewers, it’s all the same after awhile. Now focus on what you’re doing.”
Kotyka quips, ‟We have done this before in these sewers.”
Bandric stops suddenly. “I hear something.”
Merimonwë’s ears perk up. “I hear it too.”
The ranger redirects the lantern light down the sewer tunnel. A float crocodile glides towards their location. “I didn’t think there really was a crocodile in the sewers. At least not since our last encounter.” Scoffs Bandric. [Issue 004]
Merimonwë says, “We don’t have time for this!” She casts a sleep spell on the crocodile. The scaled body begins to drift deeper into the water until it finally disappears.
The Dungeon Knights continue down the sewer until they reach the approximate location of Fyodor’s estate. Gûltar looks around. “Aye, this should be the place.”
Kotyka lowers her goggles and looks around. She finds a well-concealed door in a recessed alcove. Looking around for traps, she fails to locate any. “The door appears to be locked.” The half-orc retrieves her lock pick set and begins work in earnest.
The door suddenly slams into her and quickly closes. “What the…” yells Bandric.
Kotyka gets up, slightly stunned by the sudden hit. “I don’t know what…” The door quickly opens again and slams into Kotyka. She falls unconscious.
Before anyone can grab the door handle, the door slams shut. A mouth on the door appears and says, “Do not enter. This house is protected by the great and powerful Fyodor. This is your last warning.”
Merimonwë and Bandric reach over and grab the limp body of Kotyka. They pull her to safety. Tolok says, “I could cast a spell to unlock the door but I think something else is at work here.”
“Aye, I know what it is!” retorts Gûltar. “This is a magical door and I have a dwarven key for wooden doors.”
The dwarf spins his ax around and drives the pick end deep into the door. The metal pick digs deep into the wood. Pinned, the door begins to shake attempting to open itself. Gûltar wiggles the pick creating cracks in the wood. Finally, he pulls the pick out. The door opens suddenly and then begins to close. Gûltar turns his ax around and swings the ax head through the door. The wooden door splits in two and stops moving.
“Steel trumps magic. It’s an old Dwarven saying.”
As the Dungeon Knights make their way into the house, the musty air and thick dust rise with every step. They reach the main hall and enter into the house from the cellar stairway. Looking around, they see table and chairs fallen over. Progressing further into the house, they spot small, decayed bodies of rats and other vermin littered all over the floor. Some are tucked into little makeshift nests while the bodies seem to leave a trail into other rooms.
The thick, cloth curtains are closed. Chalándril opens one of the curtains. Beams of light pierce the darkness like dusty knives. The old furniture looks nice but neglected. The colors are red velvet, brightly colored tapestries, and darkly stained wood tables. Overall, this is a respectable house for a wizard.
In the study, the room seems more in shambles than usual. It also has more than its fair share of rat and vermin skeletons. There are also old piles of excrement near the walls and next to overturned wardrobes. Bandric kicks one of the tiny mouse skeletons. It hits the far wall, landing with a thud. It rights itself and starts scurrying towards the group.
“Oh no it didn’t!” screams Bandric. “These stupid mice aren’t dead, they’re undead.”
As the others turn to see what Bandric is screaming about, a flood of decayed skeletal mice swarm in from the next room. Like a dark wave of death, they scamper on the walls, floor, and ceiling.
Without waiting for an invitation, Chalándril acts. “By the sacred names of the Goddess and the God, begone ye vermin of undeath, ye mockery of nature.”
A bright wave of light bursts from her body; passing over the skeletons like a tide. The dead bodies once again fall lifeless to the ground. Gûltar crushes one under his boot.
“We should go upstairs.”
As Kotyaka opens the door, she sees tables with glass beakers and jars filled with viscous goo. An ornate bookcase leans against the far wall. The room houses many books and scrolls. An odd assortment of bestial skulls and preserved monster parts sit in sorted bins and cupboards. This looks like some sort of mystic library or arcane laboratory. A large bluish-green blanket covers a very tall, thin piece of furniture. Everything here is coated with a thick layer of dust. The air in this room is stale and musty. It seems no one has used this room in years.
Kotyka removes the blanket to expose a large object, a full-length mirror. The base is ornately crafted of fine brass. The mirror is large and well polished. Inside the mirror, a figure of a man covers his face from the sudden exposure to light.
“Ahhgg! What’s that?” He stammers. “You thieves get out of here or I will smite you with my magic!”
Merimonwë walks up to the mirror. “What and who art thou?”
“I’m warning thee. Begone thieves!”
“We’re not thieves. We’re adventurers and where here to retrieve a weapon to fight fiends.”
“Oh, I am quite grateful for that fact. Whew. I’m actually trapped in this mirror. I don’t see Master Fyodor. Is he with thee? Did he send thee?
Tolok approaches, “Sir, Master Fyodor is presumed dead. He has not been here for over seven years.”
“What? He’s dead? Oh dear no. Who will get me out of here?” He cries.
Soon the Mirror Man regains his composure and says, “My name is Varush, chief apprentice to Master Fyodor. How may I help you?”
Chalándril replies, “Well met Varush. Perhaps we can help each other. How did you get into the mirror?”
“That was an accident. While waiting for Fyodor to return, I was toying with some new spells and didn’t understand the arcane force I activated. The spell’s failure sucked me into this mirror.”
“How do we get you out of the mirror?”
“I really don’t know. I hoped my master would be able to help.”
Chalándril looks over at Tolok. “We’ll pool our resources and figure out a way to release you. Give us a little while to determine possible solutions. What is Fyodor’s secret weapon?”
“The Crystal Heart. It’s an astral diamond cut into a multifaceted heart-shaped gemstone. It is masterfully crafted to be a magical focus, a weapon against devils. You must pour a devil’s blood onto the crystal. The evil blood is absorbed into the center of the crystal. At that point, it is ready for use. Simply being in the area of the Crystal Heart will weaken devils. It saps some of their natural planar traits making them easier to kill. However, getting the blood in the first place has proved to be the devices weakness.”
“I see,” replies Chalándril. “Who are the Righteous Defenders?”
“The Righteous Defenders are five seasoned warriors, Kralis of Chulon, the party’s warrior, Aron Thul the Devilslayer, a man who hates devils and was the group’s leader, Beromand the Pious, their priest and healer, Tythis Truthteller, the party’s paladin, and Fyodor, the party’s wizard and arcane specialist. They were quite good at what they did. Sadly, most of them died during a fight with a tricky devil and his goblin associates.”
“Do you know Kelwyn?”
“No. Oh wait, I think Kralis had a young son named Kelwyn. Is that who you’re talking about?”
“Yes, we met him a few months ago.” Chalándril looks at her companions. “Now at least we know what to look for, this crystal heart. Do you know where Fyodor hid the crystal heart?”
Varush answers, “No, I do not.”
Chalándril and Tolok discuss their options. Finally, they approach the magic mirror and inform the apprentice how they’ll remove him from the mirror. After a long incantation and ritualistic procedures, the young man is drawn from the mirror and stands next to his rescuers.
“Thank you so much.”
Gûltar nudges him, “Now just stay out of trouble and don’t play with alchemy or spells unless you know what you’re doing.”
‟Yes sir, master Dwarf. Yes, sir.” replies Varush.
-
The top floor of the house is a greenhouse for Fyodor’s garden. Large, glass windows allow light into the greenhouse. An automatic, clockwork watering system keeps them watered. The flowers and plants seem unusually large for such a small, rooftop garden. The heroes and Varush walk out of the stairwell onto the roof.
The overgrown planters and containers are ripe with verdant vegetation. Their approach causes an ear-piercing sound. The heroes all cover their ears and move away from the sound. Bandric points towards Varush, “Varush, that big fungus plant. I think it’s emitting the sound. Smash it!” yells Bandric.
Varush moves into the vegetation with a big stick. “Ow, I pricked my leg on these other pointy fungi. It really hurts…” The young human collapses into the fungus patch.
“Damn!”
Gûltar and Kotyka run over to retrieve Varush. Merimonwë yells, “Look out!”
A long vine reaches down and snatches the completely robed figure of Kotyka, pulling her up into the rafters. Gûltar yells, “I can’t reach her. I’ll finish off these blaring toadstools, the rest of you kill that plant thing.”
The dwarf commences with weeding the garden using his mighty ax. Tolok exclaims, “If I use a spell, Kotyka will be caught in the area of effect.”
“It’s hard for me to aim too. She keeps struggling and moving around. We need to find the base stalk or trunk. Then we can attack that.”
With a wriggle, Kotyka cuts herself out of her robes. Her black-skinned form drops to the ground. “I’m free.”
Merimonwë and Tolok smile at each other. Two fireballs explode at the far end of the greenhouse sending scorching flames up to the edge of the garden. Bandric fires his arrows but is picked up by another vine. Merimonwë and Kotyka grab his legs trying to keep him on the ground.
“Do I have to kill everything myself?” grumbles Gûltar. He races over to a soot-covered trunk and hews a large chunk out of the vine’s body. A few more strikes and the assassin vine goes limp.
“Where’s Varush?”
They find his lifeless body strangled and poisoned among the hacked up fungi. “I think he was safer in the mirror.” chimes Bandric.
In the far corner of the penthouse garden is a tool shed. Inside there are racks of gardening equipment, broken chairs from the dining room, a crystal mobile wind chime, sacks of soil and pruning shears. Tolok concentrates and detects for magic. Within seconds, he determines where the magical crystal heart is located. With great care, Kotyka removes the Crystal Heart from the crystal mobile wind chime.
The Dungeon Knights return the Crystal Heart to Gamalek and Professor Tol. At least now this potent weapon can be used by people more powerful and capable than the Dungeon Knights.
-
A decade or so ago:
A goblin lord meets with Yuughathroth Nefkar in a large shrine. They discuss things at great length. A female goblin sentry interrupts their meeting. She points over to an area beyond the open where noise is brewing. Both the goblin lord and devil look over to where she points. A large explosion erupts from that location sending goblin bodies raining down near Lagoch and Yuughathroth. Other goblins including the robed Ithayek arrive from the depths of the shrine to lend aid.
The Righteous Defenders, a band of humans, appear from the dispersing smoke, enter the shrine and begin to fight Lagoch and Yuughathroth. Lagoch opens a portal on the wall using his magic. Ithayek and the other goblin mystics help force the humans into the undulating portal. Yuughathroth is caught in the assault and is pushed into the portal. The wizard Fyodor is left outside the wall portal. He casts a spell causing the gateway to shut. The portal winks out of existence.
The remaining goblin mystics are enraged. They scream, yell and gnash their teeth in anger. Their beady little eyes turn to Fyodor. The eyes are filled with malice and hate. Before they can kill the human, Fyodor casts his teleport spell.
Later that day, Lagoch and Ithayek are talking in the breeding hutch. Lagoch says in the goblin tongue, “Enough of the women are pregnant. It’s not a total loss. Our plans may still work out.”
Lagoch looks at Ithayek sternly. “I have another project for you. You need to locate and recover a monster with unusual properties, the Harbinger of Doom.” He hands Ithayek a whistle to control the unique monster. “The beast is not of this world but it is just a beast. Use great care when releasing it from its prison; it may not distinguish friends from foes. It will, however, provide us with a great advantage. Use this whistle to control it.”
Ithayek takes the whistle. Though his hood hangs low over his face, a toothy smile is visible.
-
Who will use the powerful Heart against the foul enemies? What will the Dungeon Knights do now? Find out next issue.
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Location: Thanhal, a walled town along the river
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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“This guy needs a new housekeeper…and an exterminator.”– Bandric
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This adventure is based on one I was writing for Living Greyhawk, but this module was canceled so I could write the final installment before the campaign ended. Sadly, no one officially played in this adventure.
Monday, January 22, 2018
Issue 017: Forgotten Temple of Shumhanrhu
In the wild marshlands, dark places become lost, decayed and forgotten. For resolute treasure hunters and mystery seekers, it’s a nagging call and a ripe lure. The route unearthed on a hidden map leads to a long-forgotten temple ruin in the depths of an overgrown swamp. Legends say only a fool would use the keys to open that dark door and the Dungeon Knights are just such fools. (Part Three of the Kelwyn's Keys series)
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.
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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