Caine had ventured alone into the foothills of the Moon Peaks, drawn there by persistent rumors of ancient secrets and treasures hidden within the winding caverns that dotted the craggy landscape, remnants left by the long forgotten settlers of the mountains. Thus he was surprised upon awakening at his isolated camp to find a wax sealed parchment resting alongside his now cold campfire.

The letter, sent by a mage known as Mazzahs, requested the explorer’s help in seeking out the secrets of the ancient catacombs that rested beneath the Barrowmoor south of the village of Helix. Caine had heard many tales of the tombs since arriving in the Duchy, that much of their origins were shrouded in legend, the histories of those interred there lost to antiquity. The missive, clearly having reached him by way of magic, promised ample rewards for Caine’s assistance in unraveling the mysteries of the barrows, indicating that such efforts could prove key to protecting the Duchy’s settlements from threats posed by the undead.

So it was that Caine was present at Mazzahs’ tower on the morning that the company made ready to venture back into the Barrowmoor. Mazzahs introduced the cloaked, mysterious explorer to his new companions, the wizard explaining that he had sought Caine’s assistance as he was reputed to be as capable an adventurer as those he would be joining.

Mazzahs indicated that he and Brother Othar had succeeded in banishing the fell spirit that had possessed the soldier that the company had captured, and that he and the priest had gained some hints of the undead creature’s greater purpose. The wizard stated that he had it on good authority that, among the items that Perri Ticklebottom had managed to escape her doomed gambling den with was the map that the spirit had apparently sought. Mazzahs indicated that he was to meet with the tavern owner later that afternoon.

Mazzahs informed the company that Sir Dryvyk and his followers had departed Helix for Ironguard Motte at the behest of Brother Othar, to fulfill an errand of some urgency on behalf of the Church of St. Ygg.

Tamson, the company’s guide, along with Searlait, Kraomar, and Lampert met the adventurers at the wizard’s spire, ready to venture back to the tombs. As they made their way into the swamps, the air was hazy with humidity, the morning sky streaked with gray clouds that kept the waking daylight shrouded in shadow. Despite the season, the temperature was cool, just cold enough to force the travelers to draw their cloaks about them for comfort.

---

The catacombs have always hosted a certain amount of ambient sound. The shifting and settling of ancient beams and stone. The just discernible noises of the dank water and earth that surround the tunnels moving at their infinitesimally slow pace. Even the occasional footfall of one of the maze’s fell denizens, walking to fulfill some dark errand.

As Searlait lowers each of the explorers down the rope into the tall entrance chamber below, the adventurers are aware of these sounds, which have become almost familiar to those that have ventured into the tombs previously. But as the last of the company reaches the room below, all of the noises halt, subsumed by a silence so absolute it seems to possess a physical weight, an oppressiveness that momentarily pushes down on those that have entered. As the company makes its way to its first destination within the catacombs, the sounds of their own steps and breathing seem uncomfortably loud in the pervasive stillness.

As they follow the moisture stained corridors east, then north, a route familiar to some of the adventurers, they encounter nothing and hear no sounds within the shadowy hallways besides their own. Turning eastward again, the party reaches a passageway lined with several doors on its northern and southern walls, its eastern end halting abruptly at an archway sealed off by stone and plaster, the bricked up entrance to an unidentified tomb.

The adventurers halt in front of a doorway on the southern wall, the entrance of which is blocked by a series of rusted iron bars. The linkboy, Lampert, holds his torch aloft so that all can easily see. Kneeling beside the portal, Ishmael investigates the out of place stone that he had previously noticed during the party’s prior explorations, which sits just left of the base of the doorway. He finds it easy to lift away and in doing so reveals an iron handle attached to a mechanism which operates the movement of a chain within the wall.

OOC: For reference, the party is currently in front of the doorway marked as location 22 on the Main Game Map.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:56, Tue 04 Oct 2022.

As Searlit lowered the all down in to the dank caverns below, Caine's mind went over the events that had led him here, with these strangers descending into the unknown depths of this dark tomb.

He had been making his living as a mercenary, having just finished a stint as a bodyguard before seeking for new employment. Work had been scarce even for one with his talents, times of peace in the world were not good news for everyone.

The magical missive from Mazzahs was as good an opportunity one could have hoped for, but as the darkness closed in around him from above, he began to have creeping doubts over what he had gotten himself in to.It was too late to back out now in any case, not to mention his own ego would not allow him to back down now.

He noted the sounds around him as he descended, but perhaps more noticeable was their absence. He had learnt of the walking dead of this place from the others as they ventured from the wizard's spire and through the swamps and thus was constantly on edge as they made their way through the stained corridors and finally ended up in front of the door blocked by the iron bars.

"Any idea what to expect in there?" he asked the others pointedly, since unlike Caine it was not their first trip here.

"The walking dead. Lots of them. From skeletons to zombies to huecuvas. And, I doubt we have seen any more than a small portion of the catacombs.

Keep your blade at the ready, we will need it soon enough, of that I am sure."

His work done, the dwarf moves back to give the sellswords room to work and takes his position as rearguard. "Safe ta say anything we find wants to kill ya." he warns the newcomer.

As they reached the floor of the first chamber Malivoire was suddenly aware of the absence of ambient noise.  The eerie quiet was disturbing, like something crawling up your back, out of reach of either hand.  As they began making their way through the corridors he ventured a whisper that still seemed too loud.  "Why is it so deathly quiet this time?"

Despite the unusual quiet nothing seemed to threaten, and soon Malivoire was gathered with the others at the barred doorway.  He kept his eyes and ears open for approaching threats while those best suited worked to open the entrance.

"It is a silent greeting," Barnabus answers.

"It would have us think it's omniscient," he adds ominously, "and practiced in the standard courtesies of a Barrowmaze of its station."

The priests makes little, light stamps with his feet as he waits for Dax to turn the handle, his mind often turning to the leaden, octagonal box for securing wayward souls. How many had Mazzahs said could be safely secured within? Three? Four? Five? Or maybe eight for each side of the box? He looks forward to finding out.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:36, Thu 06 Oct 2022.

Dax draws his sword, looks through the bars to see anything that might object to the group entering.

He looks to Caine, "Would you like to do the honours?" he asks gesturing to the mechanism that Ishmael located. "Ynes and I will enter first, and usually, be attacked immediately!" he added with a wink to his fellow warrior.

Ynes shakes her head, taking a firm grip on her axe. ”Remind me again why I agreed to help this wizard?” she asks with a smirk.

Caine draws the lever back. With a groan of age and accumulated rust, the chain begins to move, slowly raising the iron bars from the doorway, a brief shroud of dust and flakes of aged metal falling from the top of the portal’s archway.

Moving inside, Dax and Ynes find the chamber, a twenty by twenty foot square, entirely vacant. Strangely, it is absent of any sarcophagi and no burial spaces are present in any of the walls. The smooth, gray stone is also without any carvings or inscriptions which would suggest that the room serves as an antechamber to an adjacent tomb.

In the southwestern corner of the room a single, small object can be seen resting on the floor. A message, hastily scrawled in chalk is just visible on the southern wall, perhaps a foot above it.

The stillness of the catacombs remains in the wake of the raising of the iron bars.

Cool as a cucumber, Barnabus slinks along the western wall until he's close enough to both examine the object and read the message.

 Charley takes his place in Dilemma's bag during this delve.  "Well, while I haven't yet mastered magics against the dead..." The magess removes a flask of oil...  "A swell time was had by me many years ago with a pack of ghouls."  She taps the vessel with a white-gloved hand.  "Ac-cor-ding-ly..." She steps closer to Lampert.  "I've gotten into the habit of carrying oils with myself, and making nice with anyone holding a means of ignition."

"Careful!" Dax calls out, too late to stop Barnabus from moving through the room.

"It looks like there might be some tracks, let me take a look before we stir the dust too much."

The ranger moves gingerly to where he saw the tracks, and drops to a knee, to examine them more closely.

---

My character sheet only has percentages for following tracks, nothing for identifying them. Please feel free to roll for me if percentile are not the right dice.
Dax Moonblade rolled 79 using 1d100.

The dwarf, no longer surprised by the cleric brashness, waits at the doorway, both in case the something comes, and in case the door fails.

Dax is familiar with all manner of creatures, including most that present a danger to travelers within the Duchy of Aerik. But the tracks he sees are genuinely unknown to him. He is certain that the prints were not made by any of the familiar humanoids, such as goblins, kobolds, or gnolls. Nor were they created by any manner of undead that the ranger knows of. Whatever left them stood upright, had three clawed toes along with a talon at the heel, and was quite large; possibly around ten feet in height.

Kneeling at the southwestern corner, Barnabus finds that the abandoned object appears to be a broken brass compass, its cracked face smudged by a bloody thumbprint.

The message, written in jittery block letters, reads, ”SOMETHING IS FOLLOWING US”.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:58, Fri 07 Oct 2022.

Lampert grins and nods. ”That seems plenty wise to me, ma’am. Especially with some of the things we’ve seen down here,” the young man tells Dilemma, ”I’ll be ready. Let me know whenever you’re in need of my lantern.”