Session: 1/2/2016
Party: Life in MERP
Point of view: Thvaknar
After our short, nasty little fight with the ghost we disturbed we were all exhausted. The river outside was noticeable higher than when we had gone in, and the daylight was fading fast. It sure seemed like more time had passed than it felt inside. We went a little way into the trees so we wouldn't be as exposed from the river, and set up camp. Nestadie and I took the first watch -- an uneventful handful of hours. Maleth and Ozfang replaced us for the next few hours. It wasn't until the 3rd watch, with Maleth*, Ragnar and Rafa that things got a little interesting.
I think Ragnar was the one who noticed, but in any case one of them heard voices, a handful of orcs out on patrol had found the door the the "Old Man's" resting place left open. There was an argument among them on who would go inside to inspect - something we understood now, but they would not find the former inhabitant home anymore. Still, eventually the crypt was inspected among threats of skinnin' and dying - and in that order.
We had not put any thought to straightening up the place, so it was pretty obvious it had been ransacked. They knew someone was around, but were not bright or motivated enough to find our trail. Eventually they moved on with the intent to report to a higher authority about their findings. We decided that it would be a good idea to try to set the crypt straight - sort of clean up after our selves before we continued toward our goal.
We had to decide how to travel. We knew there were scouts and patrols in the area, and we wanted to keep a low profile -- there were simply too many enemies around if we drew too much attention to ourselves. Some of us wanted to travel in the trees, some ways back from the river bank for cover but the flora was so dense that it would be very slow progress. And do you know how much noise a half-troll makes in the woods? We had to stay along the river and just keep a sharp eye out.
As we traveled further, we never did run into any other patrols, but the landscape was changing. First the trees started to thin out. Any trees remaining were grey and diseased, twisted remnants. Eventually there were no trees left that hadn't been broken off and left as stumps, until there were simply none at all.
Roughly when the treeline (such as it was) ended we discovered a wide path of footprints -- the 'road' likely between Rhobar (as far as we could estimate) and our destination. With no cover to speak of anyway it was a simple matter to follow the prints. In the distance we could see a few hills breaking up the landscape a bit, the dirty string of our trail leading to the largest of them.
Even from a distance back we could make out the outline of a great archway bordering a pair of enormous doors, probably 9 or 10 times as wide as I am tall, and similarly tall. There had been no sign of any other guards or patrols about, so we approached the door. We could tell the doors themselves were relatively new. Surprisingly they were not locked and opened easily; likely counter balanced or on rollers or both. Immediately inside were the rotten remains of the old doors, crumbling into dust and dirt.
Just past the old doors, the floor descended down in a series of platforms, like stairs but much larger. They were very nearly the full width of the hall, and each one took 2 or 3 steps to walk across (more like 4 or 5 for Ragnar and Rafa). Each platform was about the width of my hand span lower than the other - and after about 20 minutes we had descended a good distance below.
At the bottom of the "stairs" we are met with another set of very large doors. Not so large as the exterior, but still very impressive. These had been left cracked partially open so it was a simple matter to slip inside - putting us in a large grand-hall type of room. Not quite twice as wide as the doors we just passed through, and perhaps half as long as it was wide. The walls were stacked stone, and the hall itself was empty and devoid of decoration except for another set of huge doors on the far side.
The next room was still empty of decorations, but it was larger - it was two or three times as wide as the door was; and square. Still the same stone as before. The only feature of note is a spiral staircase - this time the "steps" were only two paces deep for Ragnar, just a little over one for me. It was another 20 minutes of climbing down before we reach the bottom.
\
The staircase opened up into a colonnaded hall, cut into the stone of the earth. We heard the sound of running water even before we reached the bottom - running through the middle of the hall is a small, shallow stream. One of the columns had broken and fallen over it. Torches lined the walls, illuminating the desiccated, skeletal remains of former prisoners; still hanging from their shackles. The far end of the hall contained a stone, almost altar like structure. The altar had a green-flamed torch at each corner, lighting enough to see the smaller passageways to the left and right. Maleth mentioned that this was not an altar - it was more like a funeral bier, made of the same stone as the walls. The bier is covered in old elvish writing; I think he called it Quenya. There were two sets of writing, one larger than the other. The smaller text covered nearly every surface, telling a long story with the larger containing a much shorter explanation.
This had been the resting place of Ignorak - the same "master" of Rhobar from the day before. The elves had been unable to destroy him, but had been able to bind him. There was evidence that the bier had been occupied for a very long time, and that is vacancy was relatively recent.
On the floor Ragnar found the most curious thing -- the shattered remains of what appeared to be an amulet. There was evidence of a stone, but it had been crushed to dust (apparently) and all that was left was the setting, in pieces. Ozfang could not see what the rest of us were talking about - but he could smell it. Ragnar said that it was made of a mithril alloy - it was tempered to the point of being purple; something that only comes from being alloyed with kraegora.
We searched around, we wanted to find as many pieces as possible, and we think we were able to find all of the setting, but the gemstone had been destroyed or taken. The alloy the setting was made from was used for its ability to be enchanted - this may have been a key to binding Ignorak.
There was no obvious way out aside from the way we came, but we knew the stream had to lead somewhere. Ozfang found a spot on the wall where air flowed. Between a pair of the skeletal watchers Ragnar was able to find a mechanism to open a portion of the wall.
The hidden door opens to reveal a relatively narrow (well, relative to the rest of this complex, I could still lay across it with room to spare) and long hall, we can see light from the far end. As we advanced in pairs, I put myself in front with Ozfang, followed by Ragnar and Nestadie with Maleth and Rafa in the back.
When we were about halfway down the hall, we could make out figures in the light. They appear to be Men instead of Orcs or undead. They were yelling; yelling for us to leave and not defile this place. This was not something we agreed with, so we continued our approach. As we came nearer, we were able to make out more details about the occupants, and the room itself. The room itself had a square pyramid in the center, with one corner pointed at the hall we were currently occupying, the blocks making up the pyramid were about thigh-height.
On top of the pyramid was a green-tinged torch and a man in robes. Directly in front of us was a man in armor carrying a wicked crescent-axe. To either side of the tunnel entrance were each a man in robes. The robed men are chanting and gesturing like Maleth does when he is about to blast something.
I launched my bola at the man in the middle - a glancing blow, but enough to convince him that standing in front of us was unwise. Ragnar used his heavy crossbow to punch a hole in the chest of the robed man on the pyramid - he fell backward from his perch in a spray of bright red arterial blood.
Maleth was able to cast a simple sleep spell on the robed one on the right - he crumpled in an ungraceful heap. Ozfang stalked toward the left-hand side, dodging a hastily thrown bolt of lightning, while my target punts the sleeper awake with his boot. The near miss of the lightning, and the arrogance of the armored one was more than I could tolerate as the battle rage boiled over. My vision narrows and I can only see the man with the axe. I charge him, heedless of any danger, but am only able to strike his leg. His counter strike knocks me back into a more careful state of mind - and breaks my arm - my weapon falls from my suddenly useless fingers.
Rafa; seeing my mistake - engaged with my opponent to try to draw some of his attention. Ozfang had reached the robed spell-caster on the left, and did what giant wolves do best when upon their prey. The remains hit the ground with a very wet sort of slump. Nestadie was able to transfer my wound from the entryway, about the same time the robed figure on top of the pyramid climbed back up. He was bloody but apparently no longer bleeding.
From his hands I had just enough time to see a bright, narrow beam of light flash into my chest. I tried to resist, but succumbed to the darkness of sleep, thrashing with horrid nightmares. Some part of me was still aware enough to use a counter - and in an instant I had awakened; on the floor. I scoop up my weapon as I rise. Rafa strikes the axe-wielder's hip while I crush his chest to finally put him on the floor. Maleth caught the caster on the pyramid with his own lightning. This time he did not rise again. Ragnar and Ozfang simply overwhelm the remaining caster that was to our right and the final opponent who had been hiding behind the pyramid.
The pyramid had 5 torches. The one at the peak was burning with a green flame, the corner by our entry was red, and continuing clockwise around the corners: blue, black (it seemed less to give light and more to draw light in) and silver/white like burning phosphorus. Searching the bodies we found a simple map of the area, noted with some general duty notes for the defenders we just fought. Also, each of the defenders carried a small pouch, low on their left hip. Their skin under the pouch, and down their leg was red with disease and covered in boils.
One pouch was empty, one simply had a small bullet of Mithril. The third was wet, with slightly foul, brackish water covering it. The fourth we opened caused us all to recoil slightly in disgust. The pouch was filled with some sort of filth, but nested within it was another small bullet of mithril, itself encased in a red amber-like stone. The final pouch also contained a small piece of mithril, this one covered in filth and the same sort of brackish water as the first. The water/filth was so foul that it had stained the mithril, even after scrubbing it with rags it felt like it was covered with a sickly slickness.
Behind the pyramid was another hallway so we continued on to explore further. The first thing we came to is a red limestone fire pit (#2). The atmosphere was strangely acidic
Farther past the fire pit is a large natural cavern, littered with broken stalagmites. Growing from the center of the room are the trunks of two huge trees that have grown together (#3). The wood is warm to the touch, and at the bottom the wood is horribly scarred from repeated damage, like it has been hacked at repeatedly. Ozfang, as his kind does, marks it. The trees visibly shiver and shake in reaction. We moved on to the north, and entered a room with a dining area (#4) - a stone table with wooden chairs.
Beyond the dining area was an empty sleeping space (#5), 15 empty beds. Ozfang detected something following us, so we tried to back track down the hallway to wait out the follower. Before we were fully turned around, we heard the largest, deepest unearthly voice boom around us: "Red Silver Blue Black, never retreat, always attack!"
It stepped into the light (from #6), nearly twice as tall as I, and equally wide - the animated skeletal remains of something. Maleth recognized it as a mountain troll. "I am the forge master!" as it moved to swing the enormous mattock in its right hand. I block his hammer with my shield, but he is wide enough that I cannot defend against his empty hand at the same time. It used his other side to try to crush Rafa to my right. Remembering my failure just minutes ago, I was able to keep my rage in check; simply keeping this beast busy until others could come to my aid.
I was too busy to notice anything other than general commotion behind me, but my companions had their own problems. A wolf on its hind legs was moving fast enough to be difficult to see. "This one cheats!" growled Ozfang. It was attacking my friends at will. Ragnar was bitten in the arm, causing enough of a wound that Nestadie had to immediately tend to him. Maleth was repeatedly trying to slow it down with some sort of magic, but a creature like would be difficult to overcome.
I continued to trade blows with the large troll. I started using my shield to defend against his empty hand, and burned through my own internal power to keep his hammer at bay. Eventually Maleth was able to put the werewolf to sleep, giving the group the opportunity to surround the skeletal troll.
Ozfang made a tremendous effort, but with no flesh his bite had little effect but to distract him a moment. A moment was all I needed, as I heaved with all my strength - landing a crushing blow to the side of its face. It crumbles to the ground.
Even through the noise the werewolf had remained unaware and slumbering. Maleth knew that wolves like this were weak against mithril. With his mithril-wrapped sword, Ragnar had no trouble completing the necessary strike.
At least we know we are in the right place. With the fiercest guardians defeated we now need to quickly find the forge itself.
*Maleth claims to not need nearly as much sleep as the rest of us; something I think he is entirely too smug about.
I think Ragnar was the one who noticed, but in any case one of them heard voices, a handful of orcs out on patrol had found the door the the "Old Man's" resting place left open. There was an argument among them on who would go inside to inspect - something we understood now, but they would not find the former inhabitant home anymore. Still, eventually the crypt was inspected among threats of skinnin' and dying - and in that order.
We had not put any thought to straightening up the place, so it was pretty obvious it had been ransacked. They knew someone was around, but were not bright or motivated enough to find our trail. Eventually they moved on with the intent to report to a higher authority about their findings. We decided that it would be a good idea to try to set the crypt straight - sort of clean up after our selves before we continued toward our goal.
We had to decide how to travel. We knew there were scouts and patrols in the area, and we wanted to keep a low profile -- there were simply too many enemies around if we drew too much attention to ourselves. Some of us wanted to travel in the trees, some ways back from the river bank for cover but the flora was so dense that it would be very slow progress. And do you know how much noise a half-troll makes in the woods? We had to stay along the river and just keep a sharp eye out.
As we traveled further, we never did run into any other patrols, but the landscape was changing. First the trees started to thin out. Any trees remaining were grey and diseased, twisted remnants. Eventually there were no trees left that hadn't been broken off and left as stumps, until there were simply none at all.
Roughly when the treeline (such as it was) ended we discovered a wide path of footprints -- the 'road' likely between Rhobar (as far as we could estimate) and our destination. With no cover to speak of anyway it was a simple matter to follow the prints. In the distance we could see a few hills breaking up the landscape a bit, the dirty string of our trail leading to the largest of them.
Even from a distance back we could make out the outline of a great archway bordering a pair of enormous doors, probably 9 or 10 times as wide as I am tall, and similarly tall. There had been no sign of any other guards or patrols about, so we approached the door. We could tell the doors themselves were relatively new. Surprisingly they were not locked and opened easily; likely counter balanced or on rollers or both. Immediately inside were the rotten remains of the old doors, crumbling into dust and dirt.
Just past the old doors, the floor descended down in a series of platforms, like stairs but much larger. They were very nearly the full width of the hall, and each one took 2 or 3 steps to walk across (more like 4 or 5 for Ragnar and Rafa). Each platform was about the width of my hand span lower than the other - and after about 20 minutes we had descended a good distance below.
At the bottom of the "stairs" we are met with another set of very large doors. Not so large as the exterior, but still very impressive. These had been left cracked partially open so it was a simple matter to slip inside - putting us in a large grand-hall type of room. Not quite twice as wide as the doors we just passed through, and perhaps half as long as it was wide. The walls were stacked stone, and the hall itself was empty and devoid of decoration except for another set of huge doors on the far side.
The next room was still empty of decorations, but it was larger - it was two or three times as wide as the door was; and square. Still the same stone as before. The only feature of note is a spiral staircase - this time the "steps" were only two paces deep for Ragnar, just a little over one for me. It was another 20 minutes of climbing down before we reach the bottom.
\
The staircase opened up into a colonnaded hall, cut into the stone of the earth. We heard the sound of running water even before we reached the bottom - running through the middle of the hall is a small, shallow stream. One of the columns had broken and fallen over it. Torches lined the walls, illuminating the desiccated, skeletal remains of former prisoners; still hanging from their shackles. The far end of the hall contained a stone, almost altar like structure. The altar had a green-flamed torch at each corner, lighting enough to see the smaller passageways to the left and right. Maleth mentioned that this was not an altar - it was more like a funeral bier, made of the same stone as the walls. The bier is covered in old elvish writing; I think he called it Quenya. There were two sets of writing, one larger than the other. The smaller text covered nearly every surface, telling a long story with the larger containing a much shorter explanation.
This had been the resting place of Ignorak - the same "master" of Rhobar from the day before. The elves had been unable to destroy him, but had been able to bind him. There was evidence that the bier had been occupied for a very long time, and that is vacancy was relatively recent.
On the floor Ragnar found the most curious thing -- the shattered remains of what appeared to be an amulet. There was evidence of a stone, but it had been crushed to dust (apparently) and all that was left was the setting, in pieces. Ozfang could not see what the rest of us were talking about - but he could smell it. Ragnar said that it was made of a mithril alloy - it was tempered to the point of being purple; something that only comes from being alloyed with kraegora.
We searched around, we wanted to find as many pieces as possible, and we think we were able to find all of the setting, but the gemstone had been destroyed or taken. The alloy the setting was made from was used for its ability to be enchanted - this may have been a key to binding Ignorak.
There was no obvious way out aside from the way we came, but we knew the stream had to lead somewhere. Ozfang found a spot on the wall where air flowed. Between a pair of the skeletal watchers Ragnar was able to find a mechanism to open a portion of the wall.
When we were about halfway down the hall, we could make out figures in the light. They appear to be Men instead of Orcs or undead. They were yelling; yelling for us to leave and not defile this place. This was not something we agreed with, so we continued our approach. As we came nearer, we were able to make out more details about the occupants, and the room itself. The room itself had a square pyramid in the center, with one corner pointed at the hall we were currently occupying, the blocks making up the pyramid were about thigh-height.
On top of the pyramid was a green-tinged torch and a man in robes. Directly in front of us was a man in armor carrying a wicked crescent-axe. To either side of the tunnel entrance were each a man in robes. The robed men are chanting and gesturing like Maleth does when he is about to blast something.
I launched my bola at the man in the middle - a glancing blow, but enough to convince him that standing in front of us was unwise. Ragnar used his heavy crossbow to punch a hole in the chest of the robed man on the pyramid - he fell backward from his perch in a spray of bright red arterial blood.
Maleth was able to cast a simple sleep spell on the robed one on the right - he crumpled in an ungraceful heap. Ozfang stalked toward the left-hand side, dodging a hastily thrown bolt of lightning, while my target punts the sleeper awake with his boot. The near miss of the lightning, and the arrogance of the armored one was more than I could tolerate as the battle rage boiled over. My vision narrows and I can only see the man with the axe. I charge him, heedless of any danger, but am only able to strike his leg. His counter strike knocks me back into a more careful state of mind - and breaks my arm - my weapon falls from my suddenly useless fingers.
Rafa; seeing my mistake - engaged with my opponent to try to draw some of his attention. Ozfang had reached the robed spell-caster on the left, and did what giant wolves do best when upon their prey. The remains hit the ground with a very wet sort of slump. Nestadie was able to transfer my wound from the entryway, about the same time the robed figure on top of the pyramid climbed back up. He was bloody but apparently no longer bleeding.
From his hands I had just enough time to see a bright, narrow beam of light flash into my chest. I tried to resist, but succumbed to the darkness of sleep, thrashing with horrid nightmares. Some part of me was still aware enough to use a counter - and in an instant I had awakened; on the floor. I scoop up my weapon as I rise. Rafa strikes the axe-wielder's hip while I crush his chest to finally put him on the floor. Maleth caught the caster on the pyramid with his own lightning. This time he did not rise again. Ragnar and Ozfang simply overwhelm the remaining caster that was to our right and the final opponent who had been hiding behind the pyramid.
The pyramid had 5 torches. The one at the peak was burning with a green flame, the corner by our entry was red, and continuing clockwise around the corners: blue, black (it seemed less to give light and more to draw light in) and silver/white like burning phosphorus. Searching the bodies we found a simple map of the area, noted with some general duty notes for the defenders we just fought. Also, each of the defenders carried a small pouch, low on their left hip. Their skin under the pouch, and down their leg was red with disease and covered in boils.
One pouch was empty, one simply had a small bullet of Mithril. The third was wet, with slightly foul, brackish water covering it. The fourth we opened caused us all to recoil slightly in disgust. The pouch was filled with some sort of filth, but nested within it was another small bullet of mithril, itself encased in a red amber-like stone. The final pouch also contained a small piece of mithril, this one covered in filth and the same sort of brackish water as the first. The water/filth was so foul that it had stained the mithril, even after scrubbing it with rags it felt like it was covered with a sickly slickness.
Behind the pyramid was another hallway so we continued on to explore further. The first thing we came to is a red limestone fire pit (#2). The atmosphere was strangely acidic
Farther past the fire pit is a large natural cavern, littered with broken stalagmites. Growing from the center of the room are the trunks of two huge trees that have grown together (#3). The wood is warm to the touch, and at the bottom the wood is horribly scarred from repeated damage, like it has been hacked at repeatedly. Ozfang, as his kind does, marks it. The trees visibly shiver and shake in reaction. We moved on to the north, and entered a room with a dining area (#4) - a stone table with wooden chairs.
Beyond the dining area was an empty sleeping space (#5), 15 empty beds. Ozfang detected something following us, so we tried to back track down the hallway to wait out the follower. Before we were fully turned around, we heard the largest, deepest unearthly voice boom around us: "Red Silver Blue Black, never retreat, always attack!"
It stepped into the light (from #6), nearly twice as tall as I, and equally wide - the animated skeletal remains of something. Maleth recognized it as a mountain troll. "I am the forge master!" as it moved to swing the enormous mattock in its right hand. I block his hammer with my shield, but he is wide enough that I cannot defend against his empty hand at the same time. It used his other side to try to crush Rafa to my right. Remembering my failure just minutes ago, I was able to keep my rage in check; simply keeping this beast busy until others could come to my aid.
I was too busy to notice anything other than general commotion behind me, but my companions had their own problems. A wolf on its hind legs was moving fast enough to be difficult to see. "This one cheats!" growled Ozfang. It was attacking my friends at will. Ragnar was bitten in the arm, causing enough of a wound that Nestadie had to immediately tend to him. Maleth was repeatedly trying to slow it down with some sort of magic, but a creature like would be difficult to overcome.
I continued to trade blows with the large troll. I started using my shield to defend against his empty hand, and burned through my own internal power to keep his hammer at bay. Eventually Maleth was able to put the werewolf to sleep, giving the group the opportunity to surround the skeletal troll.
Ozfang made a tremendous effort, but with no flesh his bite had little effect but to distract him a moment. A moment was all I needed, as I heaved with all my strength - landing a crushing blow to the side of its face. It crumbles to the ground.
Even through the noise the werewolf had remained unaware and slumbering. Maleth knew that wolves like this were weak against mithril. With his mithril-wrapped sword, Ragnar had no trouble completing the necessary strike.
At least we know we are in the right place. With the fiercest guardians defeated we now need to quickly find the forge itself.
*Maleth claims to not need nearly as much sleep as the rest of us; something I think he is entirely too smug about.
