Run Date: October 8th, 2022
PCs
Rebel Lv3 Monk
Willow Lv1 Cultist
Baldur Lv1 Barbarian
A Change of Plans
We opened with the players reviewing a variety of hooks and rumors that have been running for a while. To my surprise, they decided to hit up the Oldtown Graveyard and try to make some progress. The usual henchmen the party hired were unavailable (still out on the Red Water Sanctum mission), and they didn't want to take time recruiting more so it was a three man crew today. It was also raining.
The party set out to the familiar gates and chatted with the on-duty guards about what they've been seeing of late. They covered the old information regarding the strange glow, and noted that the creatures have continued to become more numerous and organized. The guards even mentioned several lieutenants among the horde, one of which sounded familiar to Rebel. With the pleasantries aside, the gates opened and SHUNK, down the barricade went.
The initial plan was to hit up the central mausoleum and see what had changed, but on the way the group spotted 17 of the humanoid "dog" creatures being commanded by a zombie-leader. Luckily, the party was laying low while moving and managed to avoid walking right into the group. A quick glance at the numbers and the party favored discretion to valor. However, they didn't want to leave empty handed.
The group fell back from their certain death and headed toward a smaller mausoleum they had visited over a month ago. The first time they were here was also the first time that someone tried a Magic User (and none have been played since). At the time, Thorin (Lv1 MU) blasted damn near the entire crypt into oblivion with a Thunderous Invocation. Today it was in much the same condition: empty graves, bone splinters stuck into the back wall, and darkness.
Rebel lit a torch and took the lead. There was more debris and stone, but no sign of the living shadows. Each PC took the opportunity to check a section of empty graves and see what they could find. Rebel discovered a dark wood grain box and an odd ring. She was hesitant to mess with the box, and used her staff to ensure it wasn't attached to some sort of line or trigger. Once she felt safe (or ballsy) enough, she popped the clasp and found a silver symbol within: the moon and star. She didn't think much of it and tucked it away to cash it in later.
Meanwhile, Willow's section was mostly barren save for an old leather bound journal. Well, "journal." It had only a single page within; an immaculate and detailed charcoal drawing of a stunning woman in all her natural glory. She and Rebel had an awkward conversation about it and decided that they might be able to pawn it off on an art collector or something.
Finally, Baldur found a strange box with a lever on the side. His initial reaction was to smash it, but when he realized there was no lock he swapped to the crank. A slow, rusted and grindy rendition of Pop Goes the Weasel vibrates through the air and Rebel immediately rushes to find the sound. She managed to locate Baldur in time but her hands were too slow as she reached out to grab the top of the box and... POP! A tiny, tarnished knight pops out of the top and stabs Rebel's palm. While she's concerned about potential poisons, Baldur chuckles and looks over the design. He finds that the shield is emblazoned with the symbol of Saint Laurenia.
With
their initial search having turned something up, Rebel suggested they
take what they found and bounce. It may or may not have been worth
much, but she was concerned that the Jack may have called something.
Sure enough, as soon as they were about to leave, the party came face
to face with strange ichorous humanoids. The fight was quick, each of
the party cutting apart the goopy facades with little resistance.
However, Rebel took a vicious blow that left shards of bone sticking
out of her skin. She was now all-in on the GTFO train; Willow
following alongside to offer support. Baldur, unsatisfied with his
children's toy, decided to stay and keep digging.
Willow
and Rebel used the usual cover of graves and half walls to march
toward the gate, but didn't get too far before one of the statues
they were using as cover animated and stepped from its pedestal. The
statue's eyes glowed red and the stone shifted to an almost
flesh-like appearance as the mouth animated in a pair of voices: an
old friend, and an unknown. It called out to Rebel, welcoming her
back to the graveyard. She couldn't place the voice and asked who it
was, to which it answered: "You don't remember me? I am the one
that saved your life once upon a time."
It took a few moments for Rebel to figure out it was Thorin, and once she did the conversation continued. The creature of two voices began with friendly banter, noting how she'd been doing well for herself. He offered her the opportunity to continue that good luck by helping him out with various tasks. Willow was on edge during the back and forth and yelled for Baldur. The rain, thankfully, was light. Baldur heard the call for help and started running.
Rebel continued to converse with the creature, buying time for Baldur to arrive. Once he did, the statue offered the others the same deal as Rebel: "I have found all sorts of valuable treasures and knowledge under the mausoleum. I would love to share it with you." Baldur actually considered it, asking for specific numbers. When the statue offered the power to never die, he shrugged it off and charged in; shouting for Rebel to run.
The fight was rough on all fronts. Baldur's alpha strike landed a critical hit against the statue and Willow chipped away at the creature's belly with her flail; but the statue's assault threatened them both. A solid hit and a critical hit started the rescue attempts, but Rebel couldn't react fast enough. Baldur managed to deflect the critical hit away from Willow but suffered some damage himself. Thankfully, his rage blinded him to pain and he kept up his assault. Meanwhile, Rebel begrudgingly fled to the gate to rally the guards.
The second round included a pair of solid hits from Baldur and Willow. They were starting to hit their stride until the creature's wings began to hum and vibrate. It shifted positions and Willow tried to stagger it, but it blocked the strike and unleashed Thorin's signature Invocation. All three PCs were caught in the blast as rain, mud, and debris flooded their vision. It was a maximum damage roll (16) but all successfully saved (8). Nonetheless, the echo was sent out and the horde would soon descend upon them.
Third round ran as the previous with brutal strikes landing on both sides. Willow and Baldur continued their assault and the creature began to crack, the connection weakening with each heavy blow. The statue would not fall without a fight, however, as its Nat19 effect triggered against Baldur. The statue caught Baldur's Ghosteel axe and the two struggled for a moment. Baldur took the chance to ask, "Who are you?"
"I am that which cannot die!" the voice bellowed back, and Baldur's axe shattered. The statue's follow-up showed just how worn down it was as it managed to wear Willow down within an inch of her life, but stagger and leave an opening (fumble). Baldur, absolutely enraged at the loss of his prized weapon, grabbed the creature's head and tried to smash it with his own. Rage might make the pain go away, but stone is still stronger than bone (miss). However, his maneuver allowed Willow to strike a weak spot in the creature's stony hide and send it crumbling to the ground.
As the light vanished from the creature's eyes, the voice faded and gave way to the garbled barks of the humanoid dog-things. The undead cavalry was closing in. Willow and Baldur fled to the safety of the gate, and just before the dog-thing could catch them it was turned into a pincushion by the gate's snipers and Rebel. The gate was opened and closed as quickly as possible as the guards mounted a counter-assault on anything that walked into range.
The party thanked the guards, updated them on some of the things they found inside, and went home to rest for the evening. So ended this session's little adventure. However, there was still time on the clock.
Baldur
Baldur was devastated at the loss of his signature weapon. He had bonded with that axe, slept with it, named it! Thankfully, before fleeing the graveyard, he and Willow managed to collect as many of the fragments as possible. Once morning arrived, Rebel asked Baldur to sell off the items she'd found. Baldur agreed since he'd planned to search for a smith to reforge his lost friend.
Riversmeet is currently running a variety of events as festival season continues, and that made the sale of Rebel's goods quick and easy. Once he finished with that, he hit up the Red Sun Munitorum; the local weapons merchant. As he stepped onto their floor, a salesman with a professional look and bright smile welcome him in. Baldur, voice cracked, began asking where he could find someone to repair his old friend. The salesman took the opportunity to try and hit his target, "It's quite unfortunate what happened to that old thing, but tell you what. I can find you a great deal on a new weapon of even better quality! That scrap is of no use to someone as strong and able as you, and you deserve only the best!"
The back and forth continued for a while as the salesman showed Baldur all sorts of designs, local and foreign. One particular hammer popped up during the conversation. "Feel the heft? Look at these dark lines. This here is high quality Darksteel. Much better than that old hunk of junk in your bag and it will not shatter!" Baldur started to come around, but then asked about the cost... after which he immediately walked out. He even denied the down payment and loan options.
Baldur did eventually sleep on it and returned the next day. The salesmen the day prior was still there and one of the offers he put up was a shadow box to display the shards in. Baldur bought into this and purchased a cheaper Ghosteel hammer. Cleaver is now on display in his room at the Tankard.
Rebel
The morning after her little adventure, Rebel decided to head over to Oldtown to ask James (a Khairnite) about the interaction she had with the statue. When she arrived, she found a somber scene. The day was still overcast but the rain had subsided. Outside the old apartments there was a procession of twelve men dressed in black. Rebel slowed her pace when she noticed the landlady talking with a man wearing a smock and black cap. As she observed, a pair of black clad men came out of the apartments carrying a stretcher.
Since the first session, Rebel had been hanging out with a Khairnite Priest by the name of James. She would often spend her downtime paying visits, cleaning, and sharing stories with him. He had even taught her about his role as a Khairnite and crafted her a miniature lantern. Some time ago, Rebel had gone carousing and blacked out (not an uncommon occurrence for her). She awoke to find her hands grasping at a strange totem made of vertebrae and leather. A couple weeks ago, she had it identified and learned that it was made of human bone. She quickly rushed it to James who disposed of it with an arduous ritual. Unfortunately, the process had left him ill.
As the procession marched, Rebel matched pace with the man in the cap and asked about the stretcher. Her fears were confirmed. The mentor she'd come to form a bond with, and her only real friend, was now gone. She followed the procession through a maze of side streets (they were avoiding the festival chaos) and into the Laurenian church across from the Oldtown Graveyard. The entire walk, she mulled over recent events and started formulating theories and conspiracies. As the Laurenian Priest guided the procession into a cellar converted to a crypt, Rebel interjected. She asked to see under the sheet, and with the Priest's permission, began to examine the body.
It was indeed James. He had no obvious markings, scars, or wounds, but he was holding something that caught Rebel's eye; a tiny Khairnite lantern. She didn't think much of it until she noticed the oil within had turned a viscous black. Moon Oil, the blessed oil used by Khairnites, was closer to silver or white. It was then she began to worry more. James, before he'd died, told her about a horrible plague that spread through a nearby city. The disease had two variants: mutation, and liquification.
With her mentor now gone and her mind battling, Rebel left the church. She wandered Riversmeet for the rest of the day, oblivious to the surrounding revelry. Each tavern she passed seemed to call out, and each time she refused to answer.
Willow
Willow wandered into the markets the day after her adventure to see what kind of quotes she could get on her sultry piece of art. While there were plenty of shops that would purchase such a thing, she was unhappy with their offers and considered taking the time to find a collector or connoisseur of such pieces. Her side venture was rather short, though, and she hung out the rest of the day.
In the evening, Willow met up with Baldur to chat about the cut from the trinket sales. He ranted and cried about his lost friend for over an hour before Rebel walked in from the street. The coin was shared, but Rebel was uninterested. She spoke at length about what she saw earlier in the day and how it affected her. Baldur competed for attention, once again bringing up his lost friend, but Willow hushed him.
The Tankard was noisy, and endless chains of patrons sharing their experiences at the various venues became nothing but white noise for the party. At some point, they all retired to their rooms.
Willow offered to help Rebel out the following morning. They were going to do some investigating into James' death and see if they could find any hard evidence of the conspiracies the two had come up with the night prior. Willow believed that The One Who Cannot Die targeted James to get to Rebel.
The two set off to find the mortician they'd met the day prior. The Laurenian church was their first stop, and sure enough, he had just finished bringing another body to rest. Rebel told her story again; how she knew James, what happened with the totem, and the story about the plague in the neighbouring city. Both men remembered the plague, it having only been a few years prior, and grew concerned at the connections Rebel was laying out. Willow offered other, equally concerning, possibilities.
The Priest agreed that the coincidences were suspicious. He offered to send a missive to Amstral's Laurenian chapters to gather details about how to manage the potential return of the plague, as well as signs and symbols they may watch for should the Gnawbone Cult be resurfacing. The Mortician agreed to examine each corpse with more scrutiny. He also recommended that Rebel find a scribe and have a Last Will written so she wouldn't end up in the complicated situation her mentor was in.
When they were satisfied, the pair left the church.
Downtime
Baldur is training for level 2, as well as bonding with his new friend Crusher.
Willow is training for level 2
Rebel is lining up a commission for a light jacket lined with Ghosteel studs and searching for henchmen so she and her friends can hit the graveyard again.
Rewards
3 XP
25gp/ea
Smattering of extra funds I forgot.
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