SESSION 307: Pounded into Dust - The Lost Crypt pt. I
After odd, but very friendly, night visitors the gang plunges into the depths once more.
Day 274 (Base Camp Continued): “Hellooo! Is there space at the fire?”. A group of seven humans all in heavy armour and cloaked in heavy furs. Stepped from the darkness. There may have been a moment of tension as they assayed our camp and crew. One stepped forward. “Hello friends. I am Hamuch and these are my companions. Would there be space by your fire? For the night is cold, dark and hungry. We represent the ‘Light & Way’ bringing peace and love in the name of Moo-Ham-Jam”. Biff grumbled, “Everyone has their own god these days”. As Rhags and Ding-We exchanged glances Steve could not help himself, “Hungry you say, well I am Lord Steve of Gormandia and I love to cook for any and all and the fire is also hungry!”. The cultists acknowledged Steve’s invitation and rolled into camp. “Let us night feast!”, proclaimed Steve. They were mostly quiet accept for the leader whom was a cleric and he asked many questions while also speaking much of their deity. The night wore on and a new dawn arrived. The cleric thanked the hobos for their hospitality before marching once more Westwards.
Day 275 (Into the dungeon): Down, down dungeon down. Arriving at the pitch black natural cavern just beyond the serpent-men’s fleshy map chamber. The delve commenced. It would take an hour so before the discovery of the lost crypt but first they had a maddening encounter. It started with incomprehensible gibberish and then a green slimy blob thing comprised of mouths and eyes. It was a rogue gibbering mouther and not our long lost friend Len-ardo the scientist. The fight was challenging and the goobers were quite happy there was only one booger to deal with, multiples could have quickly ended the day in failure. The thing had no loot but an anomaly was noticed in portion of the passage wall. Rhags marked for future investigation. They wanted to stick to the task at hand.
At the end of the aforementioned hour-or-so they found themselves standing before a carved steps that led to a pair of ancient and elaborate, but corroded, bronze doors. They were open just a crack. They could not quite get any line of site beyond the portal. The began moving down the steps when Rhags noticed the passageway looked unstable, “Keep it quiet and don’t touch anything” he whispered. There were bone shards scattered about the landing before the doors. Nobody gave it much thought. Rhags poked his head in and shined his light into the unknown beyond the doors. Three tall stone statues on each side line this dusty, 20-foot-wide entry hall. Each statue bears the proud visage of some forgotten king or sage. Corroded bronze doors about 60’ feet away at the end of the corridor reflected light back at the Dwarf. They rolled in and began investigating the statues. As oft happens a voice boomed in some forgotten language and our hobos had nothing better than “meep moop”. It seemed to be an interaction failure. The final two statues stepped off their bases and began swinging with stone fists – KaPow! They exuded an aura of sloth. That slowed things down. Rhags and Steve did their jobs of stepping in front of fists as the rest of the gang widdled away at the golems. When they both were finally pulverized the golems were nice enough to have revealed a source of loot. Each of the pedestals that the golems had rested held a secret compartment with a trio of exquisite diamonds. Feeling pumped they opened the door at the end of the passage (east).
The corridor turned to the north but the parquet tile floor looked real sketchy on one side. After a head scratch, Ding-We called shenanigans. A little investigation latter the declaration was confirmed. They bypassed the trap. The corridor ended in another bronze door 50’ later. It was another trap. A fake door housing poisonous gas. Rhags and Steve were engulfed. Steve with his atmospheric stabilization system didn’t notice and you need something more potent than ancient farts to bring down a Dwarven Superhero.
They figured that there must be a secret somewhere in the corridor. There was a false wall. Once they eventually found it and were presented another corridor going off to the southeast. This place had been built by craftsmen, even under dust the ancient crypt showed its masterwork construction. Our guys didn’t really get hung up on this.
The corridor lead to three chambers.
The first was the servants crypt that was rightfully packed with ghouls then into an octagonal prayer chamber that was littered with piles of debris. This turned out to be a dozen scorpion nests. BoB has silently come to appreciate being on the ceiling most of the time, also the design of her cloak of the arachnid really goes with her ninja suit. The third chamber was a shrine. The rotting remains of once-opulent tapestries hang on the walls. More detritus litters the floor. A raised platform along the northeastern wall is carved with strange symbols. Rusty red spots discolor the outer circumference of the dais in the centre of chamber apon which was an altar. A few items — cups and a tarnished dagger — lie on the altar. They were of fine silver traced with gold, noticeable even covered in dust and the tarnish of ages. Biff scooped up the items. At the far side of the chamber was another door.
It was not far after midday and our guys had taken a beating and magical resources were diminished as well. They did not trust the crypt to provide a safe sanctuary. They returned to base camp on the surface. The first delve kinda proving to be a mixed bag.
Well.. there is always tomorrow.
The D-Team: Ding-We, Rhagnar, Steve, Chung-Li, Mason, Biff & BoB
ROLECALL
Hobo Steve the Lord (F9) 339875 xp +5% <360,001> CRT 1d24/V
Brain Damaged: reduced mental capacity (tough night on the town)
Rahgnar the Dwarven Superhero (D8) 247098 xp <280001> CRT 1d20/IV
Serious wound: permanent loss of an eye (-1 to missile fire)
Critical Wound: disembowelled less able to process poison (-1 penalty)
Missing thirteen teeth
Ding-We the Peg-Legged Wizard (W10) 529123 xp +10% <620001> CRT 1d10/I
Critical Wound: Left leg obliterated, runs at ½ rate (peg required)
The Henchmen
Biff Bartley the Half-Orc Blackguard (HO7) 109529 <120000> +5% CRT 1d12/II
‘BOB’ the Deadly Shade (N7) 71726 <90000> +5% CRT 1d16/II
Mason the Lama of Yrrrg. (C7) 84859 <100001> CRT 1d10/III
Chung-Li the Myrmidon Warlock (E6) 109721 xp <120000> +10% CRT 1d8/II
RESERVES
Elapsed Campaign Time
743b days at beginning of session (Boris & Friends just outside of Liwil)
689a (Bunny Group Newville) Busy until 779
715d (Ding-We Gang Lake of Abominations/ Liwil)
Join us for session Three-Hundred-and-Eight when we ask the questions:
What evil lurks in the further depths?
Those Mo-Ham-Jam guys seemed friendly enough, especially after they saw our numbers, what are they up to?
Why is it always crypts with the unrestful dead and not grottoes with naked ladies?
Tale of the Tape
No splats today.
KILLS
Gibbering mouther 350
Stone golems (2) 4600
Ghouls (20) 500
Giant scorpions (12) 1500
LOOT
Diamonds (6) 1000 gp each
800 gp
Jade chunks (7) 12 gp each = 84 gp
Luckstone
Silverand gold cups & ceremonial dagger
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