There was no mistaking when the company had reached the edge of the Barrowmoor. As the ground grows more marsh like, the landscape becomes noticeably quiet, all sounds of animals, insects, and even the wind fading from hearing. Soon, a cold mist settles over the terrain, reducing the adventurers’ visibility to a short distance ahead of them.

Valorin, the elven bowyer, draws his cloak more closely around his lean frame. ”The mist is always present,” he explains, ”Regardless of the time of day, or the season, it lingers.”

Tamson, the expedition’s other guide, nods in agreement. As they had loaded supplies into the cart at Turgen’s Trade Goods earlier that morning, the  adventurers had learned that the young man was the son of Helix’s miller, who is a retired ranger. Tamson had taken more interest in his father’s former career, rather than his current one, though he continues to work at the mill, primarily in ensuring that shipments of lumber safely reached other destinations within the Duchy. In the prior year, the young ranger had been instrumental in setting an ambush for a band of marauding lizard men who had been attacking merchant caravans moving in and out of Helix.

Tamson points ahead. ”The barrows,” he says simply.

Through the pale fog, the adventurers can see several dark mounds ahead, rising up out of the marsh. At this distance, they appear to be constructed entirely from shadow.

Tamson raises a hand, signaling the expedition to halt. Lampert, tasked with driving the cart, tugs gently on the reins to bring the horse to a stop. The animal nickers softly.

Kraomar, the half-orc sometime bouncer at the Brazen Strumpet, who had agreed to Sir Dryvyk’s offer of employment in hopes of paying off some recent gambling debts, shifts the warhammer he is carrying from one shoulder to the other. Searlait, the mercenary from the guild who accepted the company’s offered contract, finds a spot of solid ground and sets down the haft of her halberd upon it.

”Mazzahs had stated that you would most likely be interested in the underground tombs,” Tamson says, addressing the company, ”Not far ahead, there is a pathway, marked by a series of cairns on either side, that leads to an entrance into the tunnels below.”

“If you’re wishing to try to enter one of the barrows, we can take you as far into the moor as you like. A few of the tombs have been opened, but most have not. They’re quite numerous.”

”Should you elect to open one of the undisturbed tombs, know that it will require quite a bit of effort and labor,” Vanorin interjects, ”Most appear to be well sealed. Breaching one with hammers and iron bars can be a noisy process. It may attract attention.”

”The dead are always about,” Tamson cautions, ”but they tend to be most active in the late afternoon and evening. One should always be watchful. Should you keep a fire going at your camp, it will serve to keep many away. They do not care for open flame.”

From somewhere out on the moor, a stone tumbles from its place, the noise easily heard in the pervasive silence.

”So, where am I leading you?” the guide asks.

Dax jumps slightly at the sound of the rock falling.

"The tunnels seem to be the place to start, don't you think?"

With his skin tingling with the excitement of being so close to so much, Barnabus does not notice the cold mist dampening his cloak and mail.

"At last, at last, at last," he repeats as if this were the very stuff of prophecy. Turning to Tamson, he answers, "Take us there." There is no question of where there is.

Sir Dryvyk stretched, the leathers of his banded armor creaking from the swelling due to increased moisture in the air. He drew his sword and knelt facing the Barrowmoor. Bowing his head against the hilt, he intoned a brief prayer.

"May our path be safe, may our steps be guided, may our strength not fail, and may our endeavors be fruitful..." He then arose and spoke quietly with his squat squire.

Ol' Gib was a small fellow, but he had the presence of someone much larger than his diminutive stature might generally command. He carried a large crossbow, likely of his own making, and was draped with a heavy woolen cloak the color of healthy forest boughs, a color seemingly absent in the misty moors. At his belt was a large dagger, and opposite was a quiver of perfectly fletched quarrels. His beard was well trimmed and almost pure white, his balding head covered with a tall hat. His brows were thick and prominent, his nose likewise, his eyes deep set, broodsome, wise.


The squire nodded and turned to the hirelings, giving directions to set up camp.

"Tamson and Vanorin, if you would lead us yonder please, Lampert we'll need you as well. The rest of you, after camp has been set up, Ol' Gib here will direct the establishement of whatever defenses might be erected quickly. We'll likely make our first excursion a short one. Stay alert, and by all means, get a fire going!" Dryvyk patted his squire on the shoulder and then joined the others.

"Let's head for the tunnels, if we find success down there, perhaps we'll undertake an excavation of a barrow in the near future."

Tamson leads the adventurers further across the moor, the cold fog seeming to cling to them as they traverse the uneven, damp terrain. Soon, the cairns that the young ranger mentioned come into view, neat stacks of smooth stones that are almost disturbingly symmetrical. They continue to appear alongside the disused path as the company progresses, seemingly spaced apart at precisely measured intervals.

Ahead, a large burial mound comes into view, mottled brown and dark green foliage covering most of the low hill. Built into its side is a tall portal, an entrance into a dark tunnel framed by ancient stone. A slab of gray rock, which once sealed the opening, lies a few feet away from it, partially claimed by vines.

The mound is encircled by a group of standing stones. Each of the menhirs is shaped differently than its fellows and all stand roughly eight feet tall, their surfaces carved with symbols that have been heavily eroded by time and the elements.

Within the opening into the tomb, the adventurers can see only darkness.

Menhirs had not been on Mazzahs's list, but the mystic can't help peering at the nearly faded runes. He doesn't hold out much hope that he'll recognize them but might another?

"Malivoire? Dwarf person?" he beckons, as he leans in closer to examine them.

Ishmael wanders about, letting the others who seemed more inclined to set up camp and attend to the various sundries that always seemed be needing messed around with.

As they approach the entrance, he adjust his pack.   He walks up to the stoop, and looks into the darkness.  "Want me ta take a look first?" he asks.

The name comes back to him.

"Ishmael, up here. See if you can recognize these runes," Barnabus requests. He adds, "No, I think we should stick together in the underground."

The elf mage's dark hair glistened with moisture and he pulled his robes more tightly about himself as barrow's entrance came into view.  The aura of the place was ominous, the cairns they passed like counting stones of those who had dared to tempt fate beneath the surface of the burial mound.  Or so Malivoire imagined as they made their way close to the dark, beckoning entrance.

The elf joined Barnabus at the nearest menhir, his attention already snagged even before the mystic called him over.  "What do you make of it, Barnabus?" he asked, looking up at the worn runes in the hopes of making sense of their faded meaning.

Moving further into the moor, Dax pulls his cloak closer to ward of the chill from the mist. His eyes dart about as he takes in the alien landscape and the barrows and mounds all about.

As the gnome and the hired guards start setting up the camp, the ranger ensures all of his weapons are prepared. He also decides to leave almost all of his trail rations and his bedroll behind.

~No need for the extra weight,~ he thought.

While Malivoire studies the stone pillars with Barnabus and Ishmael, Dax takes up a position watching the the opening will soon enter, just in case something inside decides to come out! His arm rests on his scabbard, and his fingers quietly tap on the hilt of his sword.

Sir Dryvyk spent a little time with Lampert, helping him situate things in order to best do his job. He made sure the steel, flint and tinder were easily accessible as well as an extra torch tucked into his belt for quick access if more light was needed in a hurry. Dryvyk gave the lad, who was probably not much younger than the young knight himself, a pat on the shoulder and then stood near Dax ready to proceed when the examination was complete.

"No gold in old runes." the dwarf comments, but he come to look just the same.

” I’ve no trouble standing watch through the night,” Searlait informs the squire and Kraomar as she assists in unloading the supplies for the camp, ”I’ve stayed up through the dark hours quite often.” She grins and adds, ”Part of the glorious life of a soldier.”

”I’m not certain any of us will get much in the way of sleep,” Kraomar says, taking in the field of barrows surrounding them. Grimacing, he sets to work digging a fire pit.

Lampert makes ready as Sir Dryvyk instructs, casting a curious look at the open tomb as he tucks a spare torch in his belt.

The meaning of the faded runes carved into the surface of one of the nearby standing stones is not immediately clear to the adventurers who gather to examine them, though the imposing menhir does make an impression on each of them.






Those who have gathered near the tomb entrance can see, within the gloom, that a set of stone steps lead down a short distance into a stone chamber which is roughly sixty by sixty feet. Four huge square columns support the ceiling and bones litter the floor. Positioned in the center of the pillars is a rusted tripod which stands six feet high, with block and tackle suspended from it. The hanging rope descends into a wide hole in the floor. Within the hole, the explorers can see only shadow.

After tracing the stone-set symbols with a forefinger, Barnabas concedes that there is no vein of gold to be chiseled out.

"But there is a god, an old one, older than mine," he pronounces with all the fervor of a true believer although which god, exactly, is the foundation for that belief he leaves unsaid.

With space enough to admit them all, he hurries the others down the steps and into the entrance chamber. He encourages Dax to borrow the linkboy's torch to have a look about (peek down the side passages and into the excavation hole).
This message was last edited by the player at 03:08, Sat 13 Nov 2021.

Dax takes torch from Lampert, but instead of walking into the chamber, he squats at the bottom of the stairs and examines the floor.

"Boot prints...several sets...probably plunderers. And, here," the elf points with his right hand, "more prints...but not booted...oddly shaped...they weren't walking normally...shuffling or limping. My guess would be the dead that walk coming to defend their resting place."

Dax stands up, and draws his sword, before moving to the right side of the chamber. He moves forward, allowing his torch to illuminate the area behind the pillars. Once he reaches the centre of the room, he will move to the left side to check behind those pillars.

If there are no issues he will signal the group to join him at the block-and-tackle.

"Perhaps it is a god's magic, perhaps not," Malivoire vacillated while staring at the imposing menhir with its worn runes, "but I have no doubt the power is malevolent.  I can practically taste it in the air.  We should take care with these about."  He was more than happy to follow Barnabus and Ishmael back to the barrow entrance where the others waited.

Despite the mystic's enthusiasm to enter the tomb Malivoire took his lead from Dax and paused near the top of the stairs while the ranger completed a cursory examination of the room.  The elven mage edged down the stairs the further Dax moved into the room, finally joining the others when it seemed the space was secure.

Gwendolyn follows along with the others of their merry band. She keeps alert. Her eyes keenly watch the mist and darkness for dangers, her ears listen to their surroundings. She even sniffs the air cautiously. While gold and riches are all fine, her primary goal is to return to Helix alive and well...even if empty-handed.

She keeps her bow at the ready, and arrow nocked, but not drawn back. She treads quietly, her small feet making scantly a sound as she steps along.

Sir Dryvyk gave Dax his space and then proceeded to enter the chamber. He tried to see into the gloom below, wondering at the attempt that was made by some industrious robbers, and perhaps more important, what had become of them...

Grugar's mood had grown sour as the gloom seemed to close in around them, but the thought of fighting the living dead put him even more on edge. He refused to let any fear show. The half-orc loosened the leather retention on his scabbard and drew his sword as he followed the others. "Let 'em come" he growled.

"I've seen the runes before, but doan know what they might read." he confirms.

The dwarf descends when called, in takes the time to inspect the sturdiness of the block and tackle apparatus while the others look around.

Dax finds nothing lurking within the gloomy chamber. Barnabus moves among the pillars, thoroughly examining the space, but finds no other doors or connecting passageways. The room’s only exit, aside from the doorway through which the adventurers entered, is the hole in the center of the floor.

Ishmael examines the block and tackle, quickly determining that it is quite sturdy, despite the spots of rust. He feels certain that it could bear the weight of even the largest among the company. The rope, however, seems fragile, rot having weakened its strands. Feeding a fresh rope through the pulley should prove a simple matter, taking no more than a few minutes.

Peering into the hole itself, the explorers can see that it opens into a chamber with a vaulted ceiling, the floor of which lays roughly thirty five feet below. Worn frescos adorn the walls, though what they depict cannot be easily discerned. Bones and debris litter the floor and the scent of dampness and decay is strong.

It appears that a portion of the lower chamber’s western wall has collapsed. A lone tunnel leads out of the room, heading eastward.

"The frame will hold, but needs new rope.". Ishmael pronounced.  He spends a bit of time nothing the size and state of the room so he can make a map.

Sir Dryvyk removed his pack and rummaged for a coil of stout rope which he handed to the dwarf who probably knew better of such things than did the young knight.

"It wants us to go down," the cleric grins, pleased with the invitation.

As their descent is prepared, he studies the frescoes, aged and worn as they were, for some clue as to their themes. Death, yes, but what's to be said about it? Something new? Some form I don't even begin to recognize? His grin widens.

OOC Descend in single-file marching order after Dax gives the signal.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:32, Mon 15 Nov 2021.

Once he is confident that the chamber is not occupied by denizens, dead or otherwise, Dax will return his sword to its scabbard.

While Ishmael strings a new rope into the pulley system, Dax calls to Searlait to join them. "If you watch Ishmael use this thing to send us down, then you should be able to use it to bring us back up!"

Once Ishmael pronounces the contraption ready, Dax will bare his blade again as he takes he prepares to be lowered down. Just before moving down, he tosses his torch into the room below, "I want both hands free."

Grugar watched as the nimble half-elf descended below. As soon as the ranger set foot at the bottom, the half-orc reached out and grabbed the rope with both hands. He knew his descent wasn't going to be nearly as graceful. He needed both hands to handle his weight with his heavy armor, but as soon as his boots touched the ground, he drew his sword and joined Dax in examining their surroundings.

Searlait obediently comes forward, watching closely as Ishmael operates the block and tackle, asking the dwarf a pair of pointed questions to make certain that she understands the mechanism’s operation.

”I’ll make certain that there’s always someone stationed here when you’re below,” she tells the adventurers, ”and I’ll ensure that the others understand how the pulley works, so whoever is present can bring you up quickly.”

One by one, the adventurers descend into the gloom below. Once he has reached the lower chamber, Lampert is quick to light a torch and lift it aloft. The one that he holds, along with Dax Moonblade’s, push back the deepest of the shadows with an amber colored, flickering illumination. A chill slowly takes hold of the explorers.

Barnabus moves to the faded frescoes, seeing that they depict a somber burial procession, bearing a body toward an open barrow.

As the last of the company reaches the room, they are each aware of a movement of the cold air, a brief breeze that carries with it a soft sound, like a gentle exhalation, or a sigh. The pressure in each of the adventurers’ ears increases for a moment, then relaxes. All becomes still.

The western wall is a collection of rubble, an expanse of broken stone that has long buried whatever might have lay beyond it. The only exit from the dusty chamber is a corridor leading eastward, which is primarily swallowed in darkness.



Through the shadows that crowd the gray stone hallway, the adventurers can see that two adjoining corridors, spaced evenly apart, lead northward from the passageway. On the corridor’s southern wall a pair of doors, separated by ten feet, are dimly visible. Both are fashioned from dark timbers and closed.

Before he had slipped down the rope, Barnabus had scrutinized the body. Was it just anybody's body? It couldn't have been. It had to have been somebody's body, the body of a real somebody.

This busybody would like to know, he smiles to himself.


"Not only have we been expected, we have been wanted," he says softly. Like the others, he surveys the new egresses from the empty chamber: two northern and one eastern corridor, along with two southern doors.

He considers before suggesting, "A peek down north one and two. But doors, always doors, first and foremost. Must see what's behind them."

Sir Dryvyk adjusted his shield after the descent and drew his sword. His was to be a protectorate of the party, placing himself between them and the evil of this place. He glanced at Dax and awaited the ranger's approval before advancing slowly beyond the doors to position himself where he could intercept anything coming at them from the edge of the darkness cast by the torchlight.

Move right between the two doors. I'm assuming someone will inspect/pick/open or - if all else fails - kick one or both open!

Upon reaching the floor below, Dax slowly turns, sword at the ready, as he takes in the room while he waits for the rest of the group to join him.

Once two more of the group is safely ensconced on the lower level, the ranger picks up his sputtering torch and blows on it gently, enticing the flame to burn strongly.

He takes a position near the tunnel heading east as he waits for the full group to assemble.

"Agreed," the ranger acknowledges, glad to hear a voice, even that of the odd cleric, in this place.

Once all are in place, he slowly leads, sword blade resting on his right shoulder, torch in his left hand. He glances lets the light of the torch shine down the first corridor, and if nothing is noticed, the second corridor, and further east.

He then hands the torch to Lampert and takes a position between the two doors, gesturing to the first, he says, "This one first."

Malivoire breathed a soft sigh of relief as he touched down on the stone of the lower chamber, happy that he suffered no slip and fall on the process.  None would have mistaken the mage for the strong, athletic type, but Malivoire was slight even for an elf.  Nevertheless, he arrived with no mishap to join the others in the partially collapsed chamber.

While Dax briefly explores the features just outside the room Malivoire glanced at the frescoes over Barnabus' shoulder.  He wondered who the deceased was, what life of importance they'd lived in their ancient time.  And whether they still lay restless in this stone prison beneath the earth.

When the way was determined to be safe and the decision made to try the first door on the right, Malivoire positioned himself according to their agreed-upon order and readied a red-fletched dart just in case.

"Awlright you lot, quit yer clanking." Ishmael says, stepping towards the door.  "Let me look." he says as he inspects the door.

Ishmael finds no evidence of traps on the door itself or in its immediate vicinity. It is unlocked.

The door opens with a soft scrape. Beyond the doorway is a twenty by twenty foot room which is unadorned with any manner of decoration. Debris litters the stone floor; primarily fragments of pottery and wood. In the center of the southern wall of the vacant chamber is another door, which is banded with rusted iron and closed. Aside from the door the adventurers just entered from, it appears to be the only exit.

On the western wall hangs a skeleton. Fragments of padded armor cling to its frame and the flaking remains of a pair of leather boots cover its feet. On the floor beneath it lies a small, metal headed hammer, clearly intended for use as a tool rather than a weapon. The skeleton’s jaw is open as if in a silent scream. A dagger with a bone handle protrudes from the skeleton’s mouth, the point of the blade having been stabbed into the stone wall, the weapon keeping the skeleton suspended.

Save for the crackle of the company’s own torches, the chamber is quiet.

Barnabus crosses the room to the western wall where he appraises the skeleton pinned to the wall, "Not in accord with any known burial practices. Clearly, the work of some scapegrace of a junior undertaker having himself a lark. We'll put a stop to that, we will, will."

He cackles to himself, his cackling accompanying the crackling of the company's torches.

Then he unpins the skeleton from the wall and stows the bones in a small sack.

He stands still after finishing his work.

"Next door. Not this banded door. The other one."

Gwendolyn keeps pace with the others once down into the tunnelways. Her bow stays ready with a nocked arrow on standby while her eyes search through the flickering shadows for nearby dangers. She stays ready to support the melee fighters with her arrows should the need arise.

Dryvyk picked up the hammer, looked it over a bit and handed it to Lampert. "This might be useful, better hang on to it."

He then returned to his spot between the doors and let the dwarf go about his business once more.

Owing to his position in their marching order Malivoire didn't get a good look at the room, but what he saw was enough to give the elf pause.  Who was strong enough to drive a dagger into the wall and pin a body there?  The mage shuddered, and then grew even more disturbed as Barnabus removed the skeleton from the wall and then disassembled the remains for storage in a sack.

"Barnabus, what are you doing?" he asked, a horrified look on his face.

Once Ishmael opens the door, Dax steps through, sword at the ready.

His eyes are drawn to the skeleton with the dagger jammed through its mouth into the stone wall. As Barnabus speaks in his incomprehensible manner and starts to pack the bones into a sack, Dax picks up the boots.

He rubs at the leather to see if they are actually falling apart or if there is just something covering the leather.


[Language unknown: Ughbleica e caitnt, ee teatheha ne an!] the ranger comments quietly as he pushes around the debris on the floor with his boot, looking for anything or interest.

"For a potter's field," is all Barnabus says for an answer.

The skeleton is brittle enough that Barnabus is able to collect most of the bones for later burial, save for the skull. The dagger which was used to pin the dead man’s head to the wall will not budge, despite the priest’s best efforts to free it. Even attempts to shift the weapon in an effort to loosen it yields nothing. The knife does not move at all.

Dax finds that the dead man’s boots are heavily cracked, but might be salvageable with the attention of a skilled leather worker. The foot gear does appear to have been quite sturdily made. Dax notes that the boots are very similar in appearance to those issued to the men-at-arms who protect Ironguard Motte.

Outside of the room, from somewhere within the dense darkness that fills the eastern corridor, there comes a brief metallic noise, the clinking of moving chains. It is audible only for a moment before the pervasive silence reasserts itself.

"Should see about those chains before those chains see about us," the journeyman gravedigger observes. "Might be behind that second door."

Grugar scratched his chin as he watched the cleric. His words and actions were confusing to the half-orc. He was about to step forward to see if he could help remove the dagger from the wall when the sound of rattling chains grabbed his attention. "For once, I agree with the strange man." He adjusted his sword and shield in preparation and headed out of the room to the next door.

The dwarf remained outside the room near the door as everyone rushed in to see what they could see.  "You lot make too much noise." he whispered fervently. Then mutters softly [Language unknown: "Comtedderrea ss pe hiisetpo.  Ss ssent thi onlale cahiou pre ur ck lohi il."] He steps noiselessly a few paces further down the east corridor and strained to hear more from where the chains made their presence known.

At the sound of the chains coming from outside the room, Dax dropped the worn boots and took up a position near the door, peering out into the hall.

"We should move as a group," he says to those still in the room, and gave a little shake of his head at those that gave up on travelling in formation after a single room!

Sir Dryvyk nodded to Barnabus and made ready to take on the chained horror which would inevitably meet its doom at his hand...

"Prepare yourselves! Lampert stay steady with the light!"

After Barnabus' failed attempt to remove the dagger Malivoire moved near and sniffed.  "Dark magic," he muttered, then moved away again.  The sound of rattling chains from the corridor beyond had snagged his attention, and chilled his spine.

He nodded at Dax's wise words - his old friend was right.  They must stay disciplined down in the crypts or all could easily be lost.  As the group prepared to face the unknown creeper in the shadows, he fell into place amidst the others.

Lampert nods in response to the knight’s instructions, holding his torch well above his head as the party approaches the adjacent door.

The rattle of chains echoes again from somewhere in the darkness to the east, but the noise is more distant than the first time the adventurers perceived it. A moment passes and then there is a faraway thoom, the echoing report of a heavy door slamming closed.

After this, the explorers hear only silence.

"Not behind the second door," Barnabas observes. "Let's see what's behind the second door."

"Something walks these corridors...and it is well-mannered enough to close doors behind itself."

The ranger continues to watch down the eastern corridor, allowing Ishmael the time needed to examine the door.

As with the neighboring door, Ishmael finds no evidence of any manner of trap.

Pushing the door open, the adventurers see that the room beyond is precisely the same dimensions of the previous chamber they explored: a square stone room, twenty by twenty feet. The walls are bare of any form of markings or adornment and the floor is littered with debris: fragments of pottery, glass, and bone. In the center off the southern wall is another door, which is closed. The top right corner of the door has splintered away, leaving a hole, beyond which only darkness can be seen.

Near the center of the floor is a large leather sack, held closed with a tightly tied cord. A skeletal hand still grasps the top of the sack, but the remaining bones of whoever once carried it are nowhere to be seen. Milling around the sack are almost a dozen huge rats, each one the size of a hunting hound, their grimy fur almost obsidian in color. As the door swings open, the large rodents halt their foraging, all of them regarding the newly arrived adventurers with dark red eyes.

There are eleven giant rats in total. Each rat has an armor class of 7.

09:24, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 7 using 1d6+1.  Initiative - Party.

09:25, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 3 using 1d6.  Initiative - Giant Rats.

The adventurers win initiative and may act before the starving rodents.

Too small a space for so many rats. They twine about themselves in an unseemly manner. Perhaps, they would have done so anyway.

Barnabas, in the vanguard, advances into the room and crashes the spiked head of his flail into the fleshy, twisty mass.

B. hits 1 rat for 6 dmg
19:22, Today: Barnabus rolled 19,6 using d20+2,d6+2.  melee attack rat.

Ishmael loses a dart from somewhere on his person. He targets one of the rats on the outskirts to avoid anytime rushing into melee.

20:49, Today: Ishmael rolled 21,3 using1d20+2,1d4.

Hits for 3

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:51, Fri 26 Nov 2021.

Dax turns from the hallway at the sound of the door opening. He brings his sword to bear at the sudden cacophony of battle. Stepping into the room, he takes a position near Barnabus and slashes at the nearest rodent of unusual size.

---

Dax Moonblade rolled 19 with his Two-Hander hitting AC 0 for 6 damage.

The young knight stepped to the fore, brandishing his sword bravely. This is what he was here for, to protect his companions from the evils of this cursed place! He'd been looking forward to a triumphant first battle, one in which he could prove his mettle to his companions and glorify his God!

But a swarm of rats is not the easiest of foes to engage with...

Sir Dryvyk was about to fillet one of the vicious little rodents, but felt his sword dig into the door frame, sending a jolt of pain through his shoulder!

Sir Dryvyk of Drakeholme rolled 2 to hit miss (Natural 1),for 8 damage using d20+1,d8+1 ((1,7)). First roll of the game. Yeah, that's about my luck. It's going to another one of THOSE games huh? Wonderful.

With there being so many of them, Gwendolyn fires off a shot at the nearest living rat she can see, easily striking it in its center mass.

[Gwendolyn's arrow strikes AC-5 for 4 damage]
This message was last edited by the player at 00:59, Fri 26 Nov 2021.

Malivoire saw that his companions were landing blows on the huge vermin swarming about the room, but there were a rather large number.  Concerned they might swarm and overwhelm one or more members of the group the elven mage called upon his powers to hopefully lessen the threat. With a sonorous tone and a toss of glittering sand into the air, Malivoire let loose his magic.


OOC:

Cast Sleep. Affects 7HD worth of creatures.
14:46, Today: Malivoire rolled 7 using 2d8.  Sleep spell - HD Impact.

[Posted by Labyrinth Lord]

Grugar moves alongside several of his fellow adventurers into the fray, spearing one of the rodents with a quick stab of his blade.

11:17, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Grugar, rolled 14 using 1d20+1.  Attack - Long Sword.

11:17, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Grugar, rolled 8 using 1d8+1.  Damage.

Five of the large rats are slain as the adventurers rush into the room, some by crushing blows from weapons, others by well placed missiles. For a moment, the cacophony of battle overtakes the quiet of the catacombs.

Before the vermin can retaliate, Malivoire intones his spell, the sand that the spellcaster throws sprinkling the surviving rodents. In an instant, the rats are succumbing to sleep, their red eyes closing, their grime encrusted forms becoming still, save for their heavy breathing.

OOC: Combat over.

11:56, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 15 using 4d4.  Sleep Spell Duration.

The giant rats will remain asleep for 15 turns.

Observing the sleeping sextet of rats and listening to its stentorious breathing, Barnabus gives a meaningful look to Ishmael, its meaning punctuated by an admonitory waggling of the man's fingers.

"Don't want them spreading any tales, do we?"

He look towards the southern door, the one with its own aperture at the top right corner. That's the way he would go after someone collects the sack.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:39, Sun 28 Nov 2021.

"Well done, Mailvoire!" Dax gives a nod to his friend for stopping the fight before any of the group was hurt.

The ranger then begins beheading the sleeping rats to ensure they do not pose a threat when the spell wears off.

"The gnawed corner on that door means the rats had access to the room or passage on the other side. Or there might be more of them..."

Once the last sleeping rat is dead, Dax gingerly pries apart the skeletal fingers, picks up the sack, and examines its contents.

As he does so, he says, "Can someone take a peek through the hole in the door before we swing it open?"

[Edit: making sure the sack gets picked up before we move on.]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:39, Wed 01 Dec 2021.

Malivoire grinned a little as his magic successfully ended the threat.  He proudly accepted Dax's congratulations and then moved forward to peer alongside the ranger while Dax examined the sack.  It was tightly sealed even after all that time (based on the bony hand), which Malivoire felt must signify some contents of importance.

The dwarf looks back at the cleric strangely, usually unsure what the addled man is talking about, and this moment finds it no different.  "Rats doan talk." He says, before helping the ranger dispatch the rats.  He glances up at the door, letting someone taller take a peek.

Gwendolyn keeps her bow at the ready, listening to the environment and looking about attentively as she does, while the others work out the next concerns.

Removing the bony hand from the sack, Dax opens it to see that it is filled with a large number of silver coins.

OOC: 123 silver pieces, to be precise.

Peering through the southern door’s broken corner, Barnabus can see that the chamber beyond is roughly thirty feet by thirty feet. The priest does not spy any occupants, nor does he observe any movement within the room.

Opening the door, the adventurers see that a hallway branches away from the chamber, leading eastward into shadow.

Just as Barnabus had seen, the chamber is empty, save for several pieces of pottery lined against the eastern and western walls. A few of the containers are broken or overturned, but several are intact. Although fashioned from clay, the pots have been painted in varying patterns of black and white.

There is a door in the southwestern corner of the chamber. The dark wood it is built from has been reinforced with iron bands. Another door is situated on the eastern wall, close to the southeastern corner. It is fashioned from stone and bears a well rendered etching of a kneeling warrior, a sheathed sword lying on the ground before him. Both doors are closed.

On the northern wall, a few feet left of the portal the adventurers entered from is another door. The group quickly surmises that it is the exit from the first room they explored, the vacant chamber with the skeleton hanging on the wall.

After the greedy counting's been completed, Barnabus cheerily repeats the tally three times, "One two three, one two three, one two three."

He takes a peek into the intact urns, surmising they will contain naught but ashes. If so, he will transfer the contents of one into the other until he has verified there is nothing hidden within.

Unwilling to turn his back on the southwestern door, he faces it, sure that one of the party will understand his intent.

Dax drops the sack into his pack, before stepping into the off-square room. He takes a position watching the corridor leading east.

"Barnabus, Mazzahs said he would be pay for pottery that might provide history of this place...and more if they have to do with the the dead. You think those urns might qualify?"

As Lampert's light brightens the room, Dax says, "Stone door, first?"

Sir Dryvyk approached the stone door and examined the kneeling knight and the sword. He wasn't particularly learned, but something about the etching seemed to draw his interest.

"I'm ready when you are," he said quietly to Ishmael.

A professional matter requires a professional reply, something even Barnabas can muster on occasion.

"If they're burial urns, then, yes, they would be part of a funerary practice, albeit one more prosaic than our employer has in mind. It's the other ... funerary practices ... that interest him -- how keenly I can readily imagine. I worry about what might still live within the unbroken ones -- rot grubs, for example. They are also the sort of place an undertaker's apprentice might secret a key to the larder for his personal use."

Grasping one of them, he finishes, "Who would be mad enough to dig his hands around in one of these, after all?"

Malivoire went to stand beside Sir Dryvyk and examine the stone door.  He looked for any signs of writing to accompany the picture, or anything of particular note in the effigy that might identify the figure.

Once the others have made way, the dwarf presses his ear to the door, and then searches for anything unusual about its construction.

Most of the pieces of pottery contain precisely what Barnabus anticipates: ashes. Transferring the gray powder from one urn to the next does not reveal any hidden contents within them. As the priest shifts the ashes from one container to the next, he notices that three of the urns bear several unusual symbols on them, the meaning of which are unknown to him, but might be worthy of study by the adventurers’ patron.

During his investigation, Barnabus also notices that one lone urn bears traces of bright red, painted carefully amidst its patterns of black and white. It is the only container in the chamber that is not filled with ash. Rather, it holds teeth, hundreds of them, each one yellowed with age.

Lampert holds his torch high to permit the adventurers gathered at the stone door to see its details more easily. The image of the warrior and his blade has been rendered with great skill, the carefully chiseled contours of the carving making it appear almost lifelike. However, there are no symbols or inscriptions which provide any insight about specifically what, or who, the picture is intended to depict.

Ishmael examines the door closely before pressing his ear to its cool surface.

"Shush." the dwarf says. "Somethings moving around on the other side. Shuffling feet"

Having just shaken the teeth-filled urn, Banrabus goofs, "What is that? Did the chattering teeth have something to say?"

"Oh, they said we're to expect slow-footed visitors," he continues. "I will greet them in the customary manner."

He grasps his holy symbol in his right hand. The symbol itself is in the shape of a hand with fingers outstretched, allowing flesh and silver to intertwine -- although two or three of the fingers (flesh or silver, it's hard to tell) do not appear to be fully formed.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Mon 06 Dec 2021.

"We can pick up those urns on the way out, Barnabus."


"The dead that walk!"

Dax moves closer to the stone door, ready to defend the group once the door is opened and Barnabus uses his divine force.

"I ken open the door." Ishmael says. "But I'm standing behind the door."

Malivoire's eyes widened when Ishmael made his proclamation, and the mage quickly shuffled away from the door.  When he judged there was sufficient protection between himself and whatever might lurk beyond the carved portal, Malvoire let a dart slip into his hand and waited in nervous anticipation for one of his companions to open the door.

Dax nodded at the dwarf, and took a position just to the side of the door. He looked to Barnabus to ensure the strange priest was in position.

"All right, Ishamel, pull the door open and stay back. Barnabus, if you see the walking dead, do what you can, and I will enter with sword at the ready.

Dryvyk, I trust you are with me?"

---

Positioned just to side of door, opposite the hinges; stepping through door once opened. Lampert should be behind Barnabus, with lantern held high.

"This is what we've come here for!" Sir Dryvyk declared as he rose and drew his sword. He positioned himself at the ready. "Let them come!"


Paladins grant Protection from Evil in a 10' radius, constant aura-like effect. -1 to AC (that's a good thing) and +1 to Saves

Ishmael pulls the door open, the sound of stone scraping against stone momentarily invading the quiet.

Beyond the door is a narrow chamber, ten by twenty feet. The pale stone walls are unadorned, save for a crude painting of a skull in rust red pigment on the center of the eastern wall. At the room’s northern end, several pairs of iron pegs, which sit parallel to one another, have been placed in the wall. Likely, they once held items that are long since missing.

Large fragments of broken marble fill much of the floor space. The adventurers quickly surmise that the jagged pieces once comprised a sarcophagus which has been completely shattered.

In the northeast corner of the room is another stone door, which bears a carving on its surface, the details of which cannot be immediately discerned.

Four animate corpses, clad in the graying rags of what were once fine, colorful garments, are standing inside the chamber. Each one turns to the door as it is opened. The walking dead let out a chorus of gurgling groans as they extend their hands toward the adventurers, their fingers ending in broken claws which are black with decay.

10:35, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 4 using 1d6.  Surprise.

The zombies are not surprised.

10:36, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 2 using 1d6.  Initiative- Zombies.

10:36, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 7 using 1d6+1.  Initiative - Party.

The party wins initiative handily and may act first.

The zombies have an armor class of 8. They are 2 HD creatures.

Gwendolyn quickly let's loose an arrow at the nearest visible enemy. She finds the shot difficult with the flickering lighting and everything in her way. And so, unfortunately, her arrow finds its way into the door instead of her intended target. She frowns and exclaims, "Fiddlesticks!"


[Rolled a natural 1 =( Is a sad panda]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:59, Wed 08 Dec 2021.

"Fall back!" Dax calls out. "They are slow-moving, let them come into the open so we all have room to fight."

The ranger follows his own advice and slowly backpedals into the larger room.

Once the last zombie is at the doorway, Dax stops shuffling backwards and slashes at the zombie nearest to him. The 2-handed sword connects solidly with undead creature.

---

Dax Moonblade rolled 14, hitting AC 5 for 7 damage using his Two-Hander.

Sir Dryvyk mirrored Dax's movements, stepping back enough to allow the shamblers room to meet their final doom!

"Righteousness prevaileth!" was the battle cry as he swung his longsword at the nearest foe!


Longsword attack: Sir Dryvyk of Drakeholme rolled 15 to hit AC4 for 7 damage!

Malivoire jockeyed for position out of reach of the zombies, and then let a dart fly at the same one Dax had engaged.  Unfortunately his aim was just a little off and the dart flew wide of the target.


OOC:
12:30, Today: Malivoire rolled 9 using 1d20+3.  Attack zombie (TN 11).  Miss!

Clinically, Barnabus studies the quartet of shufflers. What position had they inhabited within the cult's hierarchy? They could betray themselves in so many ways: a still-clutched instrument of the trade, a shred of regalia, and, even, bless their souls, a still-practiced movement of the lips, half-formed commands long ago forgotten.

Ishmael waits behind the door, axe in hand.  Once he is able to catch a zombie unaware, he chops, aiming to cleave its spine.

06:52, Today: Ishmael rolled 9,5 using 1d20+5,1d8.

[Posted by Labyrinth Lord]

Blade in hand, Grugar joins Dax and Sir Dryvyk in rushing the undead that spill out of the crypt, aiming a hard, downward slash at the first of the walking corpses he closes with.

16:47, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Grugar, rolled 14 using 1d20+1.  Attack - Long Sword.

16:48, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Grugar, rolled 4 using 1d8+1.  Damage.

Gwendolyn fires off another arrow. This time, she is able to get a clear shot and shoots the nearest active foe right between its eyes. Of course, being undead, it might very well keep on coming. She keeps her distance, slowly stepping back, as they combat unfolds.

[Gwendolyn's arrow hits AC-4 for 4 Damage]
This message was last edited by the player at 15:04, Wed 15 Dec 2021.

Dax and Sir Dryvyk’s successive blows cut down the first of the zombies that emerge from the crypt. Grugar opens a wound on the shoulder of the next walking corpse while Gwendolyn puts an arrow into the chest of another. Ishmael moves from behind the stone door and aims a blow at the back of the nearest undead, but his strike is inches short. Malivoire’s dart clatters through the open doorway behind the advancing zombies.

Studying the shambling undead carefully, Barnabus sees no apparent difference between the creatures that distinguishes one from another. What remains of their finery strikes the priest as remarkably similar, prompting the thought that perhaps all were from the same family, or the same court. However, when the last of the zombies emerge, the cleric’s attention is immediately drawn to an ornate necklace that adorns its rotted throat, crafted from some kind of precious metal. Although each of the creatures are so decayed as to make their features primarily indistinguishable, there is something in the pattern of the jewelry that makes Barnabus think that its wearer was once a warrior of some kind.

The zombie that Grugar wounded rakes the warrior’s arm with its claws, tearing open a wound on his bicep.

18:18, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 16 using 1d20.  Attack - Zombie.

18:19, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 7 using 1d8.  Damage.

The next zombie in the group attacks Sir Dryvyk, managing to land a strong blow on the knight’s shoulder.

18:19, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 16 using 1d20.  Attack - Zombie.

18:21, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 6 using 1d8.  Damage.

The last of the undead, the one wearing the necklace, lunges at Dax, but the ranger anticipates the attack and easily sidesteps the animate corpse.

18:21, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 1 using 1d20.  Attack - Zombie.

OOC: It is the party’s turn to act.

Three zombies remain. Two are wounded. The zombies have an armor class of 8. They are 2 HD creatures.

It isn't anything the half-orc had said or done that the paladin hadn't. It was just that Sir Dryvyk seemed more ... committed. Yes, that was it. Worth the investment in the commercial parlance of the times.

21:07, Today: Barnabus rolled 4 using 1d6+1.  cure light for paladin.

Seeing the leading zombies are damaged, Dax steps to the side, to get within reach of the final zombie. "Go back to death, hellspawn!"

---

Dax Moonblade rolled 15, hitting AC 4 for 11 damage with his Two-Hander.

Dryvyk held his shield before him, using it to keep the horrific humanoids at bay. He winced at the damage he'd taken, but was able to hold his composure enough not to cry out. Instead, he growled another battle-oath and attempted a backhand slice at the nearest of the shamblers...

"Fortitude without Fear!"

Just then he felt a strange cooling sensation that seemed to sooth the painful burning of his wound! Feeling now slightly invigorated, he glanced quickly to his companions and saw the odd Barnabus nod slightly... or perhaps that was just one of the man's nervous tics.


Longsword Attack: Sir Dryvyk of Drakeholme rolled 12 to hit AC7 for 3 damage.

Paladins grant Protection from Evil in a 10' radius, constant aura-like effect. -1 to AC (that's a good thing) and +1 to Saves

Ishmael chops at a zombie.

04:15, Today: Ishmael rolled 12,7 using 1d20+1,1d8+1.

Hits AC 7 for 7

Gwendolyn steadies her aim, targeting the nearest active enemy, and let's loose another arrow at their foes. "We have them now!" she exclaims.

[Gwendolyn's arrow hits AC7 for 3 Damage]

Despite his previous failure Malivoire armed himself with another dart and when then opportunity presented itself, let fly again!

"Ha ha!" he cried out, "I knew I could hit them!"  Then somewhat embarrassed by his outburst, he repeated in a much lower tone, with eyes shifting back and forth, "I knew I could hit them."


OOC:
11:19, Today: Malivoire rolled 11 using 1d20+3.  Attack zombie (TN 11).  Hit!
11:21, Today: Malivoire rolled 4 using 1d4.  Damage.

[Posted by Labyrinth Lord]

Finding his footing after being wounded, Grugar shifts his attention to the walking corpse facing Dax. With a swift, angled swing he buries his blade in the zombie’s chest.

09:30, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Grugar, rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  Attack - Long Sword.

09:31, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Grugar, rolled 3 using 1d8+1.  Damage.

Ishmael’s blow caves in the right half of one zombie’s ribcage. The creature lets out a gurgling sound of agony just as Gwendolyn’s arrow sinks into its temple. The walking corpse collapses to the floor.

Sir Dryvyk’s well aimed slash removes one of his opponent’s arms. The zombie staggers from the blow, trying to regain its already precarious balance. Before it can, Maliviore’s dart thuds into its eye socket and it topples.

Powerful strikes from Dax and Grugar quickly slay the last of the undead, a hideous groan escaping the corpse’s throat as whatever unholy power that animated it departs.

The sounds of battle come an abrupt halt, the suffocating silence of the catacombs overtaking the tunnels once more.

OOC: Combat over.

The dwarf returns his axe to its frog, and steps around the decomposed bodies.  He slips into the room next door, mourning the broken marble and seeing what else might remain in the room.

Something in the pattern of the jewelry had something of the minatory about it...or something suggestive of the minatory, at least from a distance, Barnabas had thought. He stoops down now over the now non-ambulatory shuffler for a rewarding examination. Once complete, he hands off the necklace to whoever among them enjoys carrying about such things. After that he follows the Ishmael into the next room, deciding, this time, not to chide him about his abandonment of punctilio as far as the officially established marching order -- not that he could remember the dwarf ever having observed it. So "abandonment" would be not a proper choice. Surely not!

"Well fought Dryvyk!" Dax exclaims, giving the paladin a slap on the back. "All of you, well done!"

He wipes his blade clean on a zombie corpse, and pulls the dart out of the eye socket and wipes it off, before returning it to Malivoire.

[Language unknown: Tedla leest ha di, i siinpl!]

He scowls slightly when Ishmael and Barnabus disappear through the stone door, but only for a moment. "Come, let's see what the zombies were guarding."

The knight deflected the compliment toward the others in the party.

"We've accomplished something here, a first step in clearing the moors of such cursed creatures! Yes, well done to everyone. And thank you Barnabus." But the odd man was already through the door.

He saluted them all with his sword, ending with Dax, and then proceeded to resume his place in the established order.

Malivoire sheepishly accepted the compliments from Dax and Sir Dryvyk, adding for Dax,

He joined the rest in proceeding into the burial chamber, curious to see what it contained and whether there were any more clues to the honoured knight's identity within.  While inside he also searched for his original wayward dart, seeing as his supplies were not unlimited.


OOC:
Not sure about recovery of errant missiles?

Gwendolyn weaves around the tallfolk as she goes about retrieving her arrows, but remains cautious since she can't be sure the restless dead won't rise yet again. She keeps alert for traps or other dangers as well.

Both Malivoire and Gwendolyn are able to locate all of their loosed missiles.

Lampert lets out a long exhale as he steps past the crumpled forms of the formerly animate corpses, glancing at the fallen undead with a mixture of relief and trepidation.

Although the symbols on the necklace are not known to Barnabus, upon close examination, their character reinforces the priest’s suspicion that the jewelry once belonged to a warrior. The piece is undoubtedly ancient and cast from electrum, as best the cleric can discern.

A search of the crypt yields nothing of value. Whatever treasures were once held on the iron pegs in the wall, or lay within the shattered sarcophagus with the one once interred there, are missing. Although reconstructing the sarcophagus would be an impossible task, some of the larger pieces of it suggest to the adventurers that it was once ornately carved and a work of considerable craftsmanship.

Only the rust red skull drawn on the eastern wall is undisturbed. Clearly, the symbol was placed there recently, likely within the last several years.

Dax gives Lampert a pat on the back, "They're not getting up again, Lampert..." ~at least, I hope they're not!~ he adds internally.

The ranger takes a position near the door, just to ensure nothing takes them unaware.

"Does that red skull mean something, other than a warning that there are zombies in here!"

Sir Dryvyk glared at the painting of the red skull. He seemed uneasy about the symbol, and eventually made a holy warding with his shield.

"I know not the significance nor the meaning," he said in a solemn tone, "but it reeks of evil, this I can feel..."

He finally turned his gaze from it, thinking to himself of the undertaking it would be to one day fully cleanse and sanctify this place.

"One step at a time..." he muttered to himself.

Once options have been exhausted, Ishamel checks the eastern door, before moving back to let the breachers through.

When all of the others have finished inspecting the room to their satisfaction, Dax will pull the stone door closed. "No point in making it easy for anyone, or anything, to follow us," he explains.

He them moves to the east-facing door, and when everyone signals that they are ready, he will gently open the door.

---

To be clear, I just wanted to post current and "future" actions for expedience. The other PCs can and should do whatever they want in the room. I don't want to rush anyone!
This message was last edited by the player at 06:22, Tue 21 Dec 2021.

Barnabus does not immediately signal his readiness.

He retrieves a sheaf of parchment from his pack along with an ink-dabbed quill. Hastily, but by no means recklessly, he sketches his own copy of the rust-hued skull on the page. In another area, he limns the sarcophagus fragments side by side his imagining of its original form. From memory, he adds the urn with its own "traces of bright red."

Satisfied, he returns his implements to his pack, signaling his readiness to advance. He would have preferred they backtrack to that other door behind them. Best not to leave things behind them.

Malivoire shook his head thoughtfully as Dax and Sir Dryvyk discussed the image of the red skull, and Barnabus did his best to transcribe the thing to paper.  "It is more than some random warning scrawled by humanoids, or the unlearned tomb raiders.  As Sir Dryvyk says, it radiates a certain power."  after musing a moment longer he ventured, "Perhaps part of the ritual that brought these dead back to unlife?  I cannot say one way or the other."

When they were otherwise ready to proceed Malivoire took up his position in the middle of the group, ready to proceed.

It was an idea which had not occurred to the young knight, but was entirely possible. "I hadn't thought of that Malivoire, I know little of such things, but if there is truth in what you surmise, perhaps we'd best deface it somewhat ere we continue our expedition?"

Sir Dryvyk looked for some loose stone or shard of pottery with which he could scratch out the loathsome graffiti.

"Sir Dryvyk, Sir Dryvyk," Barnabus the Adept chides. "It's the dog you're after -- not its spray."

He chuckles, "The new kids in the tomb, you know, letting us know they're here, and this is their tomb now."

"We'll see about that."

Gwendolyn speaks up. She says in a pleasant tone, "Could something be drawing the restless dead here? It seems strange, do you not agree? The tomb nearest the town, and yet these things still lurk here. Surely others have come before us seeking their fortune and would have destroyed those undead they came across. I would have expected neither treasure nor foes in the barrows closest to Helix. Something seems amiss here."

The dwarf watches the paladin dig through the rubble.  He assesses the stone of the walls, and the broken pieces, then after moment, he points.  "You'll want that one." He says suggesting one of the proper hardness to deal with the image on the wall.

"That's a good point, Mouse. It could be that these corridors run much farther into the moor...and connect to other barrows?"

Using one of the jagged pieces from the broken sarcophagus, Sir Dryvyk is able to scrape the skull symbol from the wall. It comes away easily, falling away from the pale stone in clumps of rust red flakes which lead the knight to believe that the sigil was originally painted in blood.

Ishmael inspects the door on the eastern wall, but finds no evidence of danger. The door itself is crafted from stone, but is unadorned with any manner of decoration, its gray surface smooth and featureless.

Pushing it open, Dax peers into the adjoining chamber, which is the same size as crypt that the adventurers are within.

Nothing stirs within the shadowed chamber. The ranger can see that there are four stone pedestals within the narrow room, two near the western wall, the other two beside the eastern wall. Each one stands roughly waist high in comparison to a human. A single black box sits atop each pedestal. The boxes do not have any symbols or decorations on their surfaces. All of the boxes are dusty, moldy, and partially covered in thin cobwebs.

Aside from the door which Dax opened, there are no other visible exits from the room.

"Caution, yes," Barnabus repeats, as if everybody had already come to the same conclusion.

"Is there some tricksy way of looking into those boxes without touching the cobwebs?"

"Not likely." The dwarf remarks, as he approaches the closest pedestal on the west.  He cautiously starts to probe around where the box sits, be checking if it is attached to the pedestal or otherwise trapped.

Dax follows Ishmael, staying a couple of paces to avoid distracting him, but close enough to strike if anything untoward should occur.

A change seemed to have overcome Grugar. Maybe something had altered with the cut of his jib? the parting of his hair? Or was it his accent in which Barnabus imagined he had heard something of a pleasing baritone? Whatever the cause, the adept sensed a recrudescence of purpose.

OOC 14:05, Today: Barnabus rolled 5 using 1d6+1.  cure light for new Grugar.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:10, Thu 23 Dec 2021.

For a split second, Grugar closed his eyes and a slight smile appeared, but this too disappeared in an instant. When his eyes flicked back opened, Grugar nodded to Barnabaus and said simply, "Good."

With that, he scanned his surroundings, the room was a dead end or so it seemed, which worried Grugar for some reasons.

Once he was done, Grugar moved to stand near Ishmael, on the other side of where Dax stood. If there was any sign of danger, he wanted to be close by.

Ishmael quickly notes that the boxes are not affixed in any way to the pedestals they rest upon. He does not perceive any manner of trap attached to either the boxes themselves or the pedestals.

Looking closely, Ishmael does see that directly, beneath where each box is positioned, the pedestal is hollow, a hole that is roughly as wide as an outstretched palm and perhaps a foot deep.

Grugar finds his attention drawn to the chamber’s eastern wall. There, the warrior slowly perceives the carefully hidden seams of a secret door. Examining it more closely, he sees that is roughly the size of the other crypt doors that the adventurers have recently passed through, but he cannot locate any mechanism by which the portal opens. Pushing against the wall yields no result. The stone door will not move at all.

"Ranger." the dwarf says, lifting the box from the pedestal. "Yer tall 'nuf, look down in there, I can't see."

Dax will wait a moment to allow any kind of projectile to shoot from the hole in the pedestal, or for any creature to burst out, before peering carefully into the hole.

To the ranger’s relief, nothing emerges from the hole in the pedestal. Peering into it, Dax can see that there is an iron handle set at the bottom of the shallow indentation. The handle is t-shaped and it appears that it is designed to be rotated.

"Well, I never," exclaims Barnabus when the seemingly somnolent Grugar had discovered the secret portal.

"How about four of us, myself included," he continues, positioning himself over one of the hollow pedestals, "rotate these handles clockwise as a quartet?"

While they others inspect the handles, Ishmael looks for a way to open the box.

"Perhaps the handles will open the door Grugar has found?" Malivoire opined, perhaps stating the obvious.  The sound of a voice, any voice, bolstered his confidence in the musty room, which reminded him of a dank, dark cellar he'd been sent to for punishment as a child.  The cobwebs were especially familiar.

Not considering himself a likely candidate for Barnabus' scheme, Malivoire moved over by Ishmael to see what could be made of the black boxes, and whatever contents they held.

Ishmael finds that the box is not locked, its lid opening easily. Within the box are a few yellowed bones and a single, right handed glove made from black velvet. Examining the glove, Ishmael and Malivoire see that the the knuckles of the glove have been decorated with a pair of red, demonic eyes and the glove’s opening, where the wearer’s hand is inserted, is embroidered with a row of jagged fangs, making it appear like an infernal creature’s maw.

"Ya might want ta wait on turning them handles a bit." The dwarf warns.  He inspects the glove carefully before he even considers slipping it on.

It hadn't occurred to Barnabus that the boxes even had stuff in them let alone anything as delightful as those heavy metal gloves. He prepares to don a pair and give those handles a twist.

Aside from the distinctive embroidery depicting the eyes and teeth, the glove appears to be an ordinary black velvet glove. Ishmael is able to turn it inside out, but finds nothing unusual on the glove’s inner surface.

Opening another of the boxes, Barnabus finds that its contents are identical to the one investigated by Ishmael: a few ancient bones and a single right handed glove made of black velvet, demonic appearing eyes and teeth embroidered upon it.

quote:

Ya might want ta wait on turning them handles a bit.

"Ishmael is right! Is the trick to put on the glove to turn the handles? Or will that embroidered mouth bite your hand off?

Malivoire, Barnabus have you any idea?"

The adept's only idea is to slide a velvet glove on to his right hand.

Malivoire looked at the velvet glove and its specialized embroidery, and also at the bones within the box.  He tried to identify whether they were human, and if so what part of the body they might have come from.  It seemed likely they were finger bones, but inspection would prove that supposition right or not.

As for the effect the glove might have once donned, he didn't have a solid answer.  "I don't know, Dax.  Give me another few moments to inspect the box."

No one asked Grugar for his opinion. This didn't worry him in the slightest, he hadn't even considered the connection between the handles and the door for one thing, but he was also content to wait to see what effect wearing the glove might have on whomever put it on.

For now, he waited beside the secret door, waited to see if it would open when the handles turned.

If it did, he would be ready and waiting.

Once the glove had been donned, Barnabus strikes a pose, lunging forward and thrusting his right arm up toward the ceiling, flexing his hand back to a right angle.  After this display, he relaxes and grins, "Stagecraft, you know. Probably not essential, but you never know."

Dryvyk waited while the boxes were explored. He stood opposite of Grugar near the hidden door, sword in hand...

Barnabus slides the glove onto his right hand. The glove feels slightly snug, but that is the only notable sensation regarding it. Barnabus experiences no ill effects from putting it on.

The remaining two boxes contain the same contents as those that have already been opened: bones and a single right handed velvet glove.

Like the first pedestal that was uncovered, each of the other pedestals contains a shallow indentation and a rotating handle.

Malivoire quickly assessed their numbers and with Gurgar and Sir Dryvyk guarding the secret door, and Gwendolyn's stature not beneficial for the turning of the handles, the mage realized he would have to join in.  After taking a deep breath he moved to another pedestal and slipped the glove on his hand with no little trepidation.

Once that was done he prepared to grasp the handle, but first waited for two more of the group to join he and Barnabus in standing by the handles.

"I suggest we remove these gloves as soon as possible, after we achieve whatever these handles activate," he said aloud, while they continued to prepare.  "If they are nefarious in nature, perhaps that does not initiate until the handles are turned.  So be prepared."

Gwendolyn stands at the ready. She keeps alert and looks about in case something happens from a different direction as well. Sometimes traps misdirect their victims attention, after all, and it didn't hurt to have someone keeping an eye out for threats from the other directions while the majority of the party is focused on the current task at hand.

Seeing Malivoire slip on a glove, Dax will move to the pedestal next to him, and will put on the glove, and prepare to turn the handle.

"Come Dryvyk take the fourth place. Ishmael and Grugar are watching the door ahead, and the Mouse is covering the door behind."

The young knight scowled as he considered the ugly glove. His distaste bordering on loathing, he uttered a prayer under his breath... or perhaps an epithet before sheathing his weapon and reaching for the glove.


Is Dryvyk's Detect Evil pinging at all?

"Uh one, uh two, uh three, all together now -- twist!" Barnabas exhorts, rotating his handle clockwise...or was it counter-clockwise...no clockwise! It seems to resist his efforts. Has he chosen wrong? Dash it all!
This message was last edited by the player at 14:53, Sun 02 Jan 2022.

Barnabus, Malivoire, Ishmael, and Dax all turn their individual handles in unison, finding that each can only be rotated in a rightward direction. As the handles move, the adventurers can see that the metal which comprises them rapidly heats up, the iron quickly glowing red, as if it has just been drawn from a forge. However, none of the explorers can feel the heat through the gloves they wear. Somehow, the strangely embroidered gauntlets shield them from the blazing metal completely.

From somewhere deep in the catacombs, there is a rumble, the noise of stone grinding against stone. A moment passes and the door that Grugar had found a short time ago slowly swings open, dust pouring from its edges as it does so. The space beyond it is lightless, the opening streaked with the pale remains of cobwebs, long since abandoned by their makers.

Moving a step or two forward Grugar peered down the corridor. Hoping that the lantern light would not onscure his infravision.

The dwarf looks at the glove on his hand.  He goes to Lampert, and his burning torch and carefully sees if the glove protects from the heat of the torch as well.  "It might come in handy."

The grinding of distant gears recalls for Barnabus a similar heavy noise: "the brief metallic noise, the clinking of moving chains" that they had heard emanate from somewhere to the east of the entrance. His response is physical as well has having been mental: when the door had swung open in response their activation of the vast internal mechanisms of the maze, a frisson of pleasure had suffused his body. Here was a place that the New Kids in the Tomb had yet appeared to have discovered or cared to discover. He wonders why.

OOC Let's go in, following the usual marching order.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:58, Thu 06 Jan 2022.

Dax pulls the odd glove off his hand, and leaves it on the table.

Drawing his sword, he moves up, to the door, and once the rest of the group is ready, he will follow Grugar in the newly discovered corridor.

The young knight stood his vigil near the secret door until his place in the order came up. He gestured to Lampert and then entered with his shield and sword at the ready.

Waiting for his companions to organize themselves, Grugar watches as he waits.

"May be spiders down there." he opines quietly, he was never a fan of spiders, but he didn't say that out loud of course.


OOC So Grugar is point on the marching order? Is that noted anywhere? The order I mean.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:29, Thu 06 Jan 2022.

Lampert holds his torch steady as Ishmael reaches his gloved hand toward the flame. The dwarf does not feel any heat from the burning fire through the fabric.

Through the veil of spiderwebs, the adventurers can see that another crypt waits beyond the hidden doorway. Just left of the door, centered on the northern wall, is a stone slab upon which rests a skeleton dressed in a simple green robe that has the appearance of some manner of priestly garb. The skeleton’s left hand is grasping an object which is concealed beneath dust and webbing.

Above the slab, carved in a style that borders on the primitive, is a depiction of a face entirely made up of leaves. To the south of the slab, in the center of the chamber, is a small, unadorned altar, upon which rests several sprigs of dried mistletoe.

Besides the door they entered from, the only other visible exit is a closed stone door on the tomb’s southern wall.

Ishmael pockets his glove and then snags the one that Dax left on the pedestal.  "That don't look like devil worshipers."  he says from the rear.

Barnabus, too, feels that the strange rite has led them to an unexpected place: a crypt for a high priest of the Green Man. It is a mystery unless the portal had ... originally led somewhere else? He doesn't know.

He observes Ishmael's experiment. Muzzahs had pledged 1000 gold for any item that bore "any manner of magical enchantment." He counts four items even if some might see them as just two.

Making sure that nothing is crawling about the skeleton's hand, he leans in to ascertain what it has been grasping all of these years.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:26, Fri 07 Jan 2022.

Dax uses his blade to part the spider webs as he enters the room. Looking at the face carved on the wall, above the skeleton, he glances back at Malivoire, and says, "Looks like Silvanus...perhaps that was one of his druids?"

While Barnabus examines the skeleton, the ranger moves to the altar in the centre of the room, and pushes the dried sprigs of mistletoe together, perhaps to make it look more appealing.

Malivoire had followed his own advice, stripping off the glove as soon as they had finished activating the door.  But seeing Ishmael's test conclude safely, he stuffed the glove into his sack for safekeeping.  Who knew when such properties would be useful, if not in the field then perhaps the lab?

The next tomb was indeed unexpected.  "I agree, that is a representation of Silvanus," he nodded to Dax.  "It appears this crypt has not been defiled in the way the other one was.  The Green Man may still hold sway here.  Be respectful."

While Barnabus and Dax carried out their investigations Malivoire let his eyes rove about the room, looking for any other items of interest.

Sir Dryvyk moved over near the stone door and tried not to scowl as his companions rummaged through the crypt. He had been struggling in his mind since they'd left the Spire about what posture he would take with regards to the looting and plundering of the Barrows. Artifacts, holy or corrupted, were of certain import as were familial heirlooms... but the rest he was uncertain. At least it gave him something with which he could keep his mind occupied in the gloomy depths of this dark place...

OOC: Listening and keeping guard while y'all do your thing!

Grugar moved into the room, sword in hand. The design on the wall and the alter proclaimed this a druidic temple of sorts, odd, given its location. But he out such thoughts from his mind.

He watched as the skeleton was investigated by Barnabus, and as the mistletoe was, to his mind, needlessly rearranged by Dax.

Then assuming there was nothing amiss he turned to scan the obvious doorway, and the rest of the room for other possible hidden exits.

OOC not sure if you'd prefer to roll for that LL. Not expecting any.

Brushing the collected dust and cobwebs aside, Barnabus can see that the skeleton is grasping what appears to be a neatly carved cudgel. Oddly, despite being crafted from wood, the weapon shows no sign of rot or brittleness.

Dax is able to clear the dust from the altar and places the dried mistletoe sprigs in a neat arrangement.

13:54, Today: Secret Roll: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Malivoire, rolled 2 using 1d6.  Detect Secret Doors.

13:55, Today: Secret Roll: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Grugar, rolled 5 using 1d6.  Detect Secret Doors.

As Malivoire and Grugar examine the rest of the druid’s crypt, the mage notices a carefully concealed seam in the eastern wall, near the northeast corner. Examining it more closely, Malivoire is able to discern the outline of a door. A tentative press on the stone informs him that the portal can be pushed open.

As soon as Sir Dryvyk's tsk tsking eyes look askance, Barnabus's arm uncoils like a giant toad's tongue darting across the moor to envelop a hapless adventurer within its unyielding grasp. When he retracts it, he now holds an uncannily unaged cudgel, with the paladin, he hopes, none the wiser.

He also peers at the green robe. Is it the sort of thing he or Muzzahs might want?

As if time itself did not advance in the barrow, which for most there it did not, as they themselves had stopped advancing through it, he withdraws another sheaf of parchment and sketches the face of leaves carved above the slab. This, he knows, Muzzahs will want to see.

He tsk tsks Dax, "Now, now, there will be time enough for horticulture later."

OOC Through the newly discovered no longer secret portal. Good work.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:24, Sat 08 Jan 2022.

"Sharp eyes, Malivoire!" Dax calls out to his friend.

"Ishmael, would you like to examine it before we enter?"

While he waits for the dwarf to look over the newly found door, Dax stands near the skeleton, and mumbles a little prayer under his breath, [Language unknown: Fibear hois Osioatan les anyestratith sta er.]

"Shussh.  Shield the light." the dwarf says, stepping a few quick paces back towards the sarcophagus door.  "Somethings coming.  Marching feet. Hard ta know how many, but more than one." he whispers. Leaving the light behind, he steps into the darkness of the broken rubble, he pulls a dagger from his boot and stops at the jamb just this side of the door to the pottery room.  He listens, and once his eyes adjust, looks for any sign of light or life.

"I heard it too, quiet everyone..."

The knight moved opposite Grugar in order to defend the party more effectively.

Barnabus exercises a modicum of his vast store of prudence and decides to leave the fieldwork for later, the scritch, scritch of his quill terminating abruptly consequently.

Malivoire nodded to Dax, pleased himself that he'd noticed the concealed door.  But before he could voice his satisfaction Ishamel hushed them all and slipped back through the previous rooms.  Malivoire strained his ears to see if he too could hear the approaching sound of marching feet, but otherwise obeyed the call for silence.

Gwendolyn keeps her bow up and pointed in the direction of the approaching footsteps. She slowly steps backward and slips behind some of the more durable, melee-oriented members of their party while they wait to see who or what approaches.

Dax quietly steps into the room with the pedestals and watches through the open door to where Ishmael is standing in the zombie room.

His intent, if something barges in, is to slam the door shut, after Ishmael, and then to form a defensive line in the pedestal room. But he maintains the silence, and cannot communicate this to the others!

Finding himself now simultaneously at the vanguard and the rear of the marching order sets Grugar's teeth on edge. Part of him wants to shout out a questionb but he is wise enough to hold his tongue. /he growls under his breath but otherwise reamins silent.

He does alternate his attention between the dark corridor behind the secret door and the advancing teps from their rear however.

Their attention now focused on the sound, all of the adventurers are able to hear the steady tramp of the footfalls as they draw closer.

Peering into the gloom of the pottery room, Ishmael spies three figures beginning to cross the chamber toward the doorway where he is crouched. He sees that the trio are walking skeletons, each bearing an iron shield and a sword held at the ready. Despite being merely bone, their movements are eerily smooth, their gait indistinguishable from that of trained soldiers. The walking dead each wear leather boots and gauntlets, which look strikingly well preserved.

Each of the undead has a gem embedded in their forehead, which glows faintly. All of the stones are blue; skillfully cut sapphires from their appearance.

If the group of skeletons has spied Ishmael, they give no indication. They continue moving forward, their pace unwavering.

The dwarf glances over to where the ranger Dax is watching.  He moves his hand quickly in the darkness, gesturing once with one finger, then with two, and finally holding three fingers.  He keeps his ears open, and steps back behind the hinge side of the door.  He quietly slides his axe from his belt, and waits, hoping they had other places to go, but expecting that something they did summoned the skeletons.

Dax nods, understanding that there are three foes in the corridor. He glances about, if there is anyone in the druid's tomb that can see him, he will duplicate Ishmael's gesture to them. In addition he will try to motion them to join him.

Grugar stands beside the once secret door, torn.

In his heart he wanted to fell whatever foe appeared, but he also wanted to be sure that no enemies snuck up on them from behind.

So he remained watching, knowing all the while that there may be no enemies in the darkness ahead of him. But could he take the chance and leap into battle leaving the group exposed to attack from behind?

Sir Dryvyk nodded to Dax and Ishmael and then stepped in front of the door toward which the skeletons approached. stepped to his side.

"Come ye cursed! I will send your corrupt souls to infernal torment!" He barked at them with fervor! The young knight was here to destroy the undead which haunted the moors, one by one they would fall!

---

Paladins grant Protection from Evil in a 10' radius, constant aura-like effect. Grants -1 to AC (that's a good thing) and +1 to Saves.

OOC: Intending to create a bottleneck at the door with Dryvyk directly in front of it and Dax and Ishmael on either side (at least that's the way I've understood the posting so far) We three ought to be able to strike at them one by one that way...?

------|
      | Dax
SkSkSk  SDr
      |
------|

Thanks Ishmael, EDITED!
This message was last edited by the player at 15:48, Tue 11 Jan 2022.

If the dwarf wasn't shrouded in darkness, he would have been seen visibly wincing as the paladin issued his challenge.

ooc:

I think you've got people in the wrong place, Sir Dryvyk,
The skeletons are in 5 with the pottery, coming this way (I suspect)
Ishmael is hiding behind the door in 6, with the sarcophagus
DaX, DryvyK and Gwendelyn(?) are in 7 with the pedestals
Barnabus, Grugar & Malivoire, Lampert are in 8 with the green man

The light is in 8, I intended Ishmael to be in the dark, and Dax can only see him with infravision.

.             ________________________
.  |         |      | K    |  M   |
.  |  SSS    |       X   w $    G $
.  \         |      |      |  B   |
.   \         /     |      |  Lt  |
.    \_______|I_____|______|__oo__|

This message was last edited by the player at 13:20, Tue 11 Jan 2022.

In unison, the skeletons slam the blades of their swords against their shields, twice in rapid succession, as though in answer to the knight’s challenge. Their pace quickening, they surge through the doorway into the tomb with the shattered sarcophagus.

15:41, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 4 using 1d6.  Initiative - Party.

15:43, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 3 using 1d6.  Initiative- Skeletons.

The party wins initiative.

Ishmael, Dax, and Sir Dryvyk can engage the skeletons in melee this round. Any other party members wishing to join the melee will have to move to the skeleton’s position during the opening round.

Party members with missile weapons who are in adjoining rooms can fire at the skeletons this round.

Ishmael, there is no indication that any of the skeletons have noticed you at this juncture.

Each skeleton has an armor class of 6.

For purposes of turning, the skeletons are considered 3 HD creatures.

Gripping his purloined cudgel, Barnabas harkens to the clang of blade on shield, scuttling from the druid's crypt to the shattered sarcophagus.

"So much for surprising them!" Dax muttered; in a louder voice he added, "Dryvyk call for light so you don't trip in the dark."

The ranger then moves forward, he gives a nod to Ishmael, to confirm the dwarf should wait to strike from behind. When the first skeleton approaches he strikes out with hos sword, but fails to connect.

---

Dax Moonblade rolled 11 hitting AC 8.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:52, Wed 12 Jan 2022.

Although Gwendolyn was alerted to something approaching, she wasn't sure what until the three skeletons rushed the room entrance with sword and shield in-hand.

She flicks off a quick arrow, easily getting past the lead skeleton's shield, but merely chipping off a piece of bone from its ribcage instead of shattering it.

[Gwendolyn's arrow hits AC-2 for 1 Damage]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:05, Wed 12 Jan 2022.

"Lampert! Your services please!" Sir Dryvyk shouted over his shoulder. He readied his shield and gripped his sword tightly. When the torchlight fell across the doorway, the young knight made a massive sweeping swing with his sword, using the flat of the blade rather than the edge in an attempt to crush the legs out from under the first skeleton!

He should have waited a moment longer for a little more light...

Sir Dryvyk of Drakeholme rolled 8 to Miss!

Paladins grant Protection from Evil in a 10' radius, constant aura-like effect. Grants -1 to AC (that's a good thing) and +1 to Saves.

The dwarf waits for a moment, giving the skeletons time to pass before he brings his axe chopping down hard on its spine.



20:19, Today: Ishmael rolled 13,5 using 1d20+5,1d8+1.

Hits AC 6 for 5(x2)

A low growl escaped Grugar as battle commenced, shifting his grip on his sword he moved as quickly as he could to aid his companions.

OOC not sure how long that will take and if he will be able to attack in the same round or not. Rolling just in case....

08:02, Today: Grugar rolled 2 using 1d20+1 ((1)).

Critical miss damn it.

[Posted by Labyrinth Lord.]

Malivoire draws a dart from his pouch, taking careful aim at the first of the skeletons which he can see. Hurling the missile, his aim proves true, the dart striking the dead man in the skull, fragments of bone breaking free from the impact.

08:29, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Malivoire, rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Attack - Dart.

09:01, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Malivoire, rolled 3 using 1d3.  Damage.

Stuck by Gwendolyn’s arrow and Malivoire‘s dart, the lead skeleton seems to stagger briefly, as if trying to find its bearings.

Ishmael lands a crushing blow on the last of the skeletons in the line, his axe striking the undead creature’s spine directly between its shoulder blades. It collapses into a collection of disconnected bones which clatter across the stone floor of the crypt.

Hearing its companion fall, the middle skeleton turns about, slashing Ishmael’s chest with its blade.

10:04, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 14 using 1d20.  Attack - Skeleton.

10:07, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 4 using 1d8.  Damage.

The lead skeleton finds its footing once more and aims a blow at Sir Dryvyk, which the knight easily deflects with his shield.

10:12, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 8 using 1d20.  Attack - Skeleton.

Barnabus and Grugar rush into the crypt, joining the melee alongside their companions.

It is the party’s turn to act.

Ishmael, Dax, Sir Dryvyk, Barnabus, and Grugar can engage the skeletons in melee this round. Any other party members wishing to join the melee will have to move to the skeleton’s position during the opening round.

Party members with missile weapons who are in adjoining rooms can continue to fire at the skeletons.

Each skeleton has an armor class of 6.

For purposes of turning, the skeletons are considered 3 HD creatures.

The dwarf staggers back bleeding, trying to avoid the skeleton, and it shows in his attempt to counterattack.


09:47, Today: Ishmael rolled 11,3 using 1d20+1,1d6+1

Wrong damage dice. But it doesn't matter anyway.

Emboldened by his recent successes, Malivoire readies another dart and then flings it at the skeleton besieging Ishmael, trying to help the stealthy dwarf.  Unfortunately his aim is ever so slightly off this time and the dart glances off the undead's shoulder blade, leaving nary a scratch.


OOC:

15:03, Today: Malivoire rolled 12 using 1d20+2.  Attack skeleton.  Miss by 1!

And thanks to the DM for performing so admirably for me last round.  After this I may have to turn Malivoire back over to his more accurate hands!  :)

Barnabus's relationship with his special cudgel starts off on a sour note.

16:56, Today: Barnabus rolled 7,5 using d20+3,d6+3.  skelly attack. Did the module specify the damage die for this exemplary cudgel?
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Sat 15 Jan 2022.

Dax leaves the lead skeleton to Dryvyk and the others, and swings his sword at the middle foe, which is attacking Ishmael; but he stumbles slightly and his sword fails to connect.

---

Here we go...damned dice roller!
Dax Moonblade rolled 10 using 1d20+3 hitting AC 9.

Almost heedlessly Grugar attacks the nearest skeleton, but seemingly fate is against him as his stroke goes astray.


07:41, Today: Grugar rolled 10 using 1d20+1 ((9)).

Dryvyk pushed the encroaching skeleton away with his shield and hammered again with his longsword. "Wrath of the Righteous!" was his battle-cry!

He grinned with zealous ferver when he felt the crunch of bone...


Sir Dryvyk of Drakeholme rolled 14 to hit AC5 for 6 damage.

Gwendolyn lets loose another arrow, aiming for the nearest foe. Zip through the stale air it goes to strike true.

[Gwendolyn's arrow hits AC3 for 6 Damage]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:26, Mon 17 Jan 2022.

Gwendolyn’s arrow finds the skeleton which she and Malivoire had previously injured. The missile strikes the walking corpse in the center of its chest, shattering its ribcage and snapping its spine in half. The enemy drops to the ground in two pieces, its sword clanging as it lands on the stone floor.

Sir Dryvyk’s blow crushes his opponent’s left shoulder, pushing the arm with which the skeleton holds its shield out at an unnatural angle. The undead for staggers, but keeps to its feet. It attempts to retaliate with a strike of its own, but Sir Dryvyk turns its blade aside with a quick parry.

08:38, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 6 using 1d20.  Skeleton - Attack.

It is the party’s turn to act. One skeleton remains.

Ishmael, Dax, Sir Dryvyk, Barnabus, and Grugar can engage the remaining skeleton in melee this round. Any other party members wishing to join the melee will have to move to the skeleton’s position during the current round.

Party members with missile weapons who are in adjoining rooms can continue to fire at the skeleton.

The lone skeleton has an armor class of 6.

For purposes of turning, the skeleton is considered a 3 HD creature.

"No more guff, do you hear?" Barnabas barks. It is unclear if he has admonished the last of the three skeletal martinets or his formerly recalcitrant cudgel. In either case, this time his will is done, and he shatters the pate of the bejeweled bone basher.

18:21, Today: Barnabus rolled 14,9 using d20+3,d6+3.  R#2 Barn .
Hits for 9 dmg.

Barnabus’ swing connects with the last skeleton’s skull with a crack, knocking it free from the corpse’s neck and sending it flying toward the eastern doorway. The rest of the skeleton’s body promptly falls apart, its bones falling amongst the broken remains of the sarcophagus.

The crypt abruptly falls silent.

"The dead roamed above, Muzzahs had said; he had not said that they marched with full martial discipline below," observes Barnabus.

After the sapphires have been harvested, the cleric will redirect the party's attention to the secret door in the druid's crypt and await its opening.

Watching Barnabus, Grugar was uneasy. The priest seemed to ignore the possibility of cursed items, for himself, he decided that he would not have taken the sapphires, for surely they were enchanted by a necromancer and death magics were to be avoided at all costs.

But, he soon turned his mind to the task at hand, turning he headed back to the secret door that he had been guarding before the skeletons marched into view.

The dwarf tugged at his armor, the sword hadn't ruined it, but it certainly left a mark on the dwarf.  He committed himself to being more careful.   He moves to check
and evaluate the gemstones.  He knew little of magic, but a lot about quality and value.

As Grugar starts for the druid’s crypt and Barnabus and Ishmael move to examine and take the sapphires from the skeletons’ skulls, the stone in the brow of the corpse that Ishmael first felled suddenly begins to glow, burning with a light that is briefly bright enough to illuminate the entire chamber with an eerie blue luminescence.

In the space of time that is needed to take a breath, the dead man’s scattered bones regather, the damage done to them vanishing as the skeleton suddenly reforms, slicing its blade through the empty air as it regains sentience.

08:26, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 2 using 1d6.  Initiative- Party.

08:26, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 6 using 1d6.  Initiative- Skeletons.

Properly, the party’s initiative roll would be a 3, but in this case, the bonus would not have put them ahead.

Rushing forward, the skeleton slashes at Barnabus with its sword, the point of its weapon tearing the priest’s robes, but never reaching his person.

08:27, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 13 using 1d20.  Attack - Skeleton.

It is the party’s turn to act.

In good form now, Barnabus and his cudgel greet the newly (re)risen man of bone with a blunt assertion of their intent.

"Their gems," he calls out, his reedy voice piping in its intensity, "pluck them out and crush them in your mailed fists*."

09:51, Today: Barnabus rolled 15,8 using d20+3,d6+3.  B attacks reanimated S.
Hits for 8 dmg.
*Or remove them from the room. I don't know. I expect removing them should be sufficient.

The dwarf curses loudly in surprise [Language unknown: Ma!].  He scrambles across the floor, striking with the blunt back of his axehead, trying to crush the skull and stone of one of the other skeletons before it too can rise.

09:14, Today: Ishmael rolled 21,4 using 1d20+1,1d8+1.

A natural 20 Hits AC 0 for 4, hopefully hard enough to crush it.

Malivoire stared in horror at the defeated skeleton as it rose again, truly defining its undead title.  Seizing upon Barnabus' insight and following a similar path to Ishmael, the elven mage raced to the third skeleton and tried to pry out the blue gem from the thing's skull with his dagger.  If he got the thing out he planned to crush it using the pommel of his weapon against the stone floor.


OOC:
Don't know if an attack roll is appropriate, but adding one just in case.
13:40, Today: Malivoire rolled 7 using 1d20.  Remove/Crush sapphire.  Uh-oh, not looking good!

Dax draws his sword and returns to the room, where he sees the defeated foes have decided to reform.

He moves toward Malivoire, ready to strike out if that skeleton also reforms.

Dryvyk's face reflected a grim determination in the flickering torchlight. He stepped forward with his shield to defend those trying to break the dark sorcery which kept these foes from their eternal rest.

"This only furthers my resolve to see the moors cleansed and sanctified anew..."

Seeing the skeleton reform, Grugar was shocked and a little frightened by the thought of an unkillable foe, but he pushed that aside.

He muttered under his breath, "Damned undead."

He was about to step in with his sword but thought better of it, unslinging his pack Grugar rummaged through until he found his hammer, he also checked that his silver dagger was to hand in case it was needed.

When he was ready he looked for an opportunity to crack skulls or shatter stones, assuming the sapphires were breakable of course.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:02, Mon 24 Jan 2022.

[Posted by Dungeon Master.]

Gwendolyn notches another arrow, loosing it at the newly arisen skeleton. The archer’s aim is slightly off, the missile slicing through the air beside the undead warrior’s skull.

10:07, Today: Labyrinth Lord, on behalf of Gwendolyn, rolled 7 using 1d20+3.  Attack - Bow.

Barnabus’ cudgel finds the skeleton’s left side, several of its ribs snapping with a brittle series of cracks at the impact. The dead man staggers, but does not fall.

Using all of the strength he can muster, Ishmael brings the blunt side of his axe down on one of the fallen skeletons’ glowing gems. The strike shatters the sapphire into shards, the unearthly light that filled it fading as it breaks apart. An instant later, the bones of the dead man transmute to ash, the fine gray powder retaining a vague outline of the corpse’s frame as it spreads onto the stone floor.

Malivoire is able to pry the sapphire from the skull of the last skeleton, though the gem continues to burn with an eerie luminescence. The mage strikes the stone with the pommel of his dagger, but the blow does not appear to do the jewel any harm.

The standing skeleton swipes at Barnabus with its sword. The priest reacts quickly enough to sidestep the blow, avoiding the rapidly descending blade entirely.

10:44, Today: Labyrinth Lord rolled 9 using 1d20.  Attack - Skeleton.

It is the party’s turn to act.

The lone skeleton has an armor class of 6.

For purposes of turning, the skeleton is considered a 3 HD creature.

The sapphires each have an armor class of 2. It requires 4 HP of damage to destroy them.

"Put it on the stone." the dwarf calls to the elf, scrambling over to the magic user.  Assuming the man complies, he strikes at it with back of his axe.

10:11, Today: Ishmael rolled 16,8 using 1d20+1,1d8+1.

His AC 3 for 8

Seemingly engaged in a duel to the death with a skeleton for whom death has no meaning, Barnabas suffers a moment of existential angst, which has the practical effect of ruining his aim.

13:19, Today: Barnabus rolled 8,5 using d20+3,d6+3.  Attack skelly.

Sir Dryvyk stepped to interecede on Barnabas's behalf with raised sword and board...

...but the odd cleric's flailing made it all the harder to manage a felling strike!


Sir Dryvyk of Drakeholme rolled 8 to miss! Sorry Barn, didn't realize one was still lively!

Malivoire glared at the dwarf.  "I'm trying to do that!" he said in frustration, more at himself and his weak first attempt.  He positioned the jewel for Ishmael but it seemed the axe did not quite strike hard enough either.  Getting a little desperate, the mage tried again with the pommel of his dagger but with no more success.  The dagger just bounced off the gem as if it were made of granite.


OOC:
16:36, Today: Malivoire rolled 14 using 1d20.  Crush sapphire.  Miss.

Gwendolyn takes carful aim and then shoots the sapphire dead center, shattering it with her arrow. "Hmph! Now stay dead!" she exclaims. She narrows her eyes and stares the skeleton down.

[Gwendolyn's arrow hits AC0 for 4 Damage]

OOC I'm a little lost as to who is where and which skeleton is still active. Grugar has been pretty ineffective so far.

Malivoire moves the sapphire onto the stone floor, where Ishmael, with a hard blow from the blunt side of his axe, manages to shatter it. The instant he does, the skeleton’s yellowed bones are reduced to gray ash.

Gwendolyn’s arrow cuts through the tomb’s stale air, striking the stone in the forehead of the lone animate skeleton, just as it readies a strike against Sir Dryvyk. The sapphire bursts into fragments. As it does, the dead warrior, in an eerily human gesture, focuses its vacant eye sockets upon the halfling archer, as though staring at her in disbelief. Its seeming shock lasts only a moment before it becomes a column of ash, which collapses like loose sand.

OOC: Combat over.

"Your aim is uncanny, Mouse!

Let's pull the doors shut behind us, and then see what is behind the secret door in the druid's tomb."

If Barnabus is disappointed at the destruction of the third necromantic sapphire (and he is), he endeavors to conceal it (at which endeavor he fails). After casting a forlorn look at the last of the skeletons, now reduced to a pile of ash, and a rueful look at the halfling's bow, he assumes his position in the party, ready to plumb further into this, the first depth of the Barrowmaze.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:53, Sun 30 Jan 2022.

With the gems destroyed Malivoire sighed in relief.  He understood Barnabus' desire to save and examine (or peddle) the magical gems, but the elven mage felt stopping the horror of the reanimating skeletons overrode such professional curiosity.  At least he'd felt that way, in the midst of battling the unholy things!

"Thank you, Ishmael," he said while patting the dwarf on the shoulder, grateful for his assistance with the gem.  Then a thought occurred to him, and Malivoire quickly scooped up what shards and gem dust he could, wrapping them in a handkerchief and stuffing them in his pack.  Powdered gemstones were often a spell component for more advanced magics.  Maybe some good could come from these yet.

Lastly, after reclaiming his darts tossed in the battle, Malivoire rejoined the group in his customary position, ready to proceed through the secret door in the druid's burial chamber.

"Tis a shame." the dwarf says, as the elf scoops up the shards.  "but I'd rather be poor and alive, than rich and dead."  He comments.  "Ah course, I'd rather be rich and alive, if I had my way."

He joins the other in checking out the green man's door.

Relieved that the skeletons are defeated, but frustrated by his own ineffectiveness in the fight Grugar growled under his breath and returned to his position beside the secret door.

The concealed door opens readily when pushed, revealing a small space that seems entirely out of place within the ancient catacombs.

The chamber beyond the door is only ten feet by ten feet. The three walls bear intricate carvings depicting a peaceful forest scene and a figure, his body composed entirely of leaves, standing in the midst of it, surrounded by animals. The floor of the chamber is earthen, the soil somehow rich and dark. Innumerable vines of ivy, all green with life, cling to the walls reaching the room’s ceiling.

Another simple altar, built from granite, occupies the room’s center, fresh sprigs of mistletoe resting upon it. At its base, a number of wildflowers, their blooms vibrant hues of blue, violet, and orange, have sprung from the earth surrounding it.

Witnessing the small space, each of the adventurers feels a momentary sense of peace.

OOC: Each member of the company receives the equivalent of a Bless spell, which will last for 6 turns. For the blessing’s duration, the adventurers will receive a +1 to attack and damage rolls. Lampert will receive a +1 bonus to any morale checks.

A feeling of equanimity is not the one that suffuses Barnabas after a cursory contemplation of the shrine to Silvanus. No, rather, it is the frisson of an all-consuming bloodlust. Why else would his arm feel stronger, his aim truer? He practically vibrates with murderous intent.

"No dilly dallying," he grunts, leading the party post-haste to the chamber beyond the southern door of the druid's crypt. It is unclear to whom he had directed this imperative. Might it have been Dax, who already seemed intent on scrounging around for another sprig for the shrine?

OOC Still having the ranger open the door; just omitting the listening/searching. Kind of would rather go straight to the door off of 5 but that can wait.

Contrary to what many think, a dwarf can appreciates flora, especially in a depths of a crypt.  He breathes deep of the room, and while the thought of taking some of the tranquility with him, he leaves the plants as they are.  Whatever might lets them flourish in this place, might take offense to removing them.

He harruphs at the priest's urgency, but takes his place nonetheless.

Dax looks on the small grove in wonder.

"Silvanus has made this a small sanctuary of life in this place of death."

The elf steps to the altar, and places his hand on top of it, [Language unknown: Elurli nd Ekbeinpe nde al ustr-ioin.]

He will remain in the small room, until everyone else has left, drinking in the small plot of nature in the underground.

Grugar's thoughts and words are not elegant or articulate in any real sense. He is a simple creature at heart: fight, eat, live, are his primary motivators.

But this place is clearly a place of peace and even he is moved by it, so much so that he deliberately waits on Dax, ignoring the priest since he finds the peremptory nature of the latter's orders more than a little annoying.