Date: 19th July 2025
We're in Aldershot for the next session of our 'Evils of Illmire' campaign.
We're in Aldershot for the next session of our 'Evils of Illmire' campaign.
Location: The Underdark
Finding themselves in unlit passages that sprawled deep below the treacherous environs of Illmire, our heroes had encountered a forbidding body of water that rippled and shone bleakly in their lights. Ahead was an unexplored tunnel which carried a brisk rivulet that noisily fed into the pool; the only way onwards it seemed, was to involve following it upstream.
Whispered discussion followed and our heroes thought it better to backtrack. Turning round, they followed the rough rocky tunnel for hours before it gave way to the cobwebbed myriad of mysteriously smooth circular tunnels which glimmered weirdly in their lanternlight.
More time passed, as cautiously, our heroes circumnavigated the maze of unpredictably branching paths and meandering ways, frequently encountering inclines that rose or fell to some unknown cadence.
Managing to avoid whatever unknown inhabitants populated those cryptic tunnels, our heroes eventually found themselves back in the man-made thoroughfare that ran through the skull-lined catacombs beneath the crypts.
Polished rictus grins followed them as eventually they reached the stairwell which had brought them down.
They knew a second thoroughfare split away and headed in a northerly direction.
Finding themselves in unlit passages that sprawled deep below the treacherous environs of Illmire, our heroes had encountered a forbidding body of water that rippled and shone bleakly in their lights. Ahead was an unexplored tunnel which carried a brisk rivulet that noisily fed into the pool; the only way onwards it seemed, was to involve following it upstream.
Whispered discussion followed and our heroes thought it better to backtrack. Turning round, they followed the rough rocky tunnel for hours before it gave way to the cobwebbed myriad of mysteriously smooth circular tunnels which glimmered weirdly in their lanternlight.
More time passed, as cautiously, our heroes circumnavigated the maze of unpredictably branching paths and meandering ways, frequently encountering inclines that rose or fell to some unknown cadence.
Managing to avoid whatever unknown inhabitants populated those cryptic tunnels, our heroes eventually found themselves back in the man-made thoroughfare that ran through the skull-lined catacombs beneath the crypts.
Polished rictus grins followed them as eventually they reached the stairwell which had brought them down.
They knew a second thoroughfare split away and headed in a northerly direction.
More time passed as our heroes pressed on. They found themselves marching along an empty, clearly man-made stonework tunnel devoid of feature, sound or activity - or at least, so it appeared.
For the most part, their lantern kept seemingly endless darkness from encroaching but after some time, they noticed a tinge of emerald green painted along the tunnel walls and a distant hazy green spark ahead. Drawing closer, the light intensified, our heroes then spotted the faint low edge of broiling smoke that curled towards them at ankle height, backlit in an otherworldly green hue.
They stopped dead.
Our heroes recognised the smoke which would thicken ahead and then lead to an everburning lantern; Wensley had told them of these mysterious artefacts of a lost age that produced not only an unsettling green light but also an unending poisonous fog that billowed outwards and would be dangerous in the enclosed tunnel.
Without no other way , our heroes would be engulfed when passing the lantern.
Stepping well back, they concocted a solution.
Brother Steve lunged through the fog while holding his breath and gripping his sturdy pickaxe. Even so, he felt a bitter sting in his eyes and a burning sensation crawl over his exposed skin as the miasma enveloped him.
Surrounded by a green blooming haze, he stumbled across a large silhouetted cylindrical shape; the everburning lantern.
Here at its source, the fog was its thickest and through blurry tears, Brother Steve endeavoured to examine the contraption. Constructed of iron, some sort of liquid simmered within the lantern, he could hear it bubbling.
Brother Steve then struck it a heavy blow with the pickaxe. A distinct clang reverbed throughout the tunnel as a small amount of darkly gleaming liquid splashed out of the lantern as it rocked and he felt it give somewhat under the blow, it had been dented.
The smears of liquid audibly sizzled while smoke escaped from it, Brother Steve rapidly exited the cloud.
Stepping well back, our heroes concocted another solution.
Cheery rummaged through his haversack and pulled out an olive coloured tarpaulin.
Unfolding the oil-treated sheet, Brother Steve and Cheery held it flat, advanced on the lantern through the caustic emerald smoke and draped it over the smoke spewing device. The action of moving the tarp displaced the surrounding fog which billowed alarmingly. Brother Steve and Cheery beat a hasty retreat.
Our heroes waited, and observed. Their ploy seemed to have worked. No further smoke issued from the lantern and the current vaporous batch began settling at a lower level and dissipating. Our heroes waited a little while longer then marched through the thinning fog.
For a time, our heroes continued in a northerly heading until they saw a green spark ahead.
Another everburning lantern, no doubt also spewing poisonous green gasses.
Cheery hurriedly returned to the prior lantern, retrieved his tarpaulin and returned without mishap. Once again, the tarp was used to bypass the poisonous smoke - and then would be used again as our heroes would encounter more lanterns.
Many hours had passed since their last rest though and long had they been travelling these tunnels.
The exertion had begun to take its toll, particularly on Wensley who, head bowed, went along sluggishly as they strode onwards.
Eventually though, the stonework tunnel came to an end, opening into a cavernous region filled with darkness that extended well beyond the limits of their lantern. Our heroes chose to explore.
The cave led to a complex of interconnected rough chambers and tunnels. Long distended shadows cast by their lantern danced and crawled along the uneven surfaces as our heroes progressed. Frequently they would come across a crumbled building or settlement reduced piled rubble, all decayed evidence of a long dead civilisation. Searching revealed nothing of value and little of note.
While our heroes were sifting through the detritus, they heard scuffling from the south east. Footsteps increasing in pace, fast approaching.
Steeling themselves for combat, our heroes were surprised to see enormous bestial man-shaped creatures lunge from a darkened tunnel mouth. Troglodytes! Immediately, they attacked.
Battle was joined. As the troglodytes closed, a harsh, foul odour washed over our heroes. So intense was it that they nearly gagged. Girding themselves - and fighting the urge to vomit, our heroes fought back.
Swift and brutal, the fight was soon over. The troglodytes were fierce combatants but fortune favoured our heroes who managed to defeat their monstrous opponents.
For the most part, their lantern kept seemingly endless darkness from encroaching but after some time, they noticed a tinge of emerald green painted along the tunnel walls and a distant hazy green spark ahead. Drawing closer, the light intensified, our heroes then spotted the faint low edge of broiling smoke that curled towards them at ankle height, backlit in an otherworldly green hue.
They stopped dead.
Our heroes recognised the smoke which would thicken ahead and then lead to an everburning lantern; Wensley had told them of these mysterious artefacts of a lost age that produced not only an unsettling green light but also an unending poisonous fog that billowed outwards and would be dangerous in the enclosed tunnel.
Without no other way , our heroes would be engulfed when passing the lantern.
Stepping well back, they concocted a solution.
Brother Steve lunged through the fog while holding his breath and gripping his sturdy pickaxe. Even so, he felt a bitter sting in his eyes and a burning sensation crawl over his exposed skin as the miasma enveloped him.
Surrounded by a green blooming haze, he stumbled across a large silhouetted cylindrical shape; the everburning lantern.
Here at its source, the fog was its thickest and through blurry tears, Brother Steve endeavoured to examine the contraption. Constructed of iron, some sort of liquid simmered within the lantern, he could hear it bubbling.
Brother Steve then struck it a heavy blow with the pickaxe. A distinct clang reverbed throughout the tunnel as a small amount of darkly gleaming liquid splashed out of the lantern as it rocked and he felt it give somewhat under the blow, it had been dented.
The smears of liquid audibly sizzled while smoke escaped from it, Brother Steve rapidly exited the cloud.
Stepping well back, our heroes concocted another solution.
Cheery rummaged through his haversack and pulled out an olive coloured tarpaulin.
Unfolding the oil-treated sheet, Brother Steve and Cheery held it flat, advanced on the lantern through the caustic emerald smoke and draped it over the smoke spewing device. The action of moving the tarp displaced the surrounding fog which billowed alarmingly. Brother Steve and Cheery beat a hasty retreat.
Our heroes waited, and observed. Their ploy seemed to have worked. No further smoke issued from the lantern and the current vaporous batch began settling at a lower level and dissipating. Our heroes waited a little while longer then marched through the thinning fog.
For a time, our heroes continued in a northerly heading until they saw a green spark ahead.
Another everburning lantern, no doubt also spewing poisonous green gasses.
Cheery hurriedly returned to the prior lantern, retrieved his tarpaulin and returned without mishap. Once again, the tarp was used to bypass the poisonous smoke - and then would be used again as our heroes would encounter more lanterns.
Many hours had passed since their last rest though and long had they been travelling these tunnels.
The exertion had begun to take its toll, particularly on Wensley who, head bowed, went along sluggishly as they strode onwards.
Eventually though, the stonework tunnel came to an end, opening into a cavernous region filled with darkness that extended well beyond the limits of their lantern. Our heroes chose to explore.
The cave led to a complex of interconnected rough chambers and tunnels. Long distended shadows cast by their lantern danced and crawled along the uneven surfaces as our heroes progressed. Frequently they would come across a crumbled building or settlement reduced piled rubble, all decayed evidence of a long dead civilisation. Searching revealed nothing of value and little of note.
While our heroes were sifting through the detritus, they heard scuffling from the south east. Footsteps increasing in pace, fast approaching.
Steeling themselves for combat, our heroes were surprised to see enormous bestial man-shaped creatures lunge from a darkened tunnel mouth. Troglodytes! Immediately, they attacked.
Battle was joined. As the troglodytes closed, a harsh, foul odour washed over our heroes. So intense was it that they nearly gagged. Girding themselves - and fighting the urge to vomit, our heroes fought back.
Swift and brutal, the fight was soon over. The troglodytes were fierce combatants but fortune favoured our heroes who managed to defeat their monstrous opponents.
Troglodyte attack!
|
Fighting continues.
|
Our heroes took stock of their situation once they had gotten second wind:
Their strength was dwindling fast, Wensley was fading, rest had to come soon. An unwelcoming warren of unlit tunnels stretched into the unknowable darkness ahead.
While behind them the way led past several of the poisonous everburning lanterns.
They decided for a time to explore deeper into the caves and tunnels and search for a suitable campsite.
Soon they came to what they hoped would be a concealed and defensible cul-de-sac and settled for a worrisome rest and each took watches in this precarious location.
Luck was with our heroes and the hours passed without interruption: Somewhat reinvigorated, our heroes set forth to continue their exploration.
Pressing on, further ruinous remains were revealed by the dim glow of their lantern light and faded into nothingness as they passed through several cavernous areas.
Soon our heroes became aware that the way they were following was sloping upwards and not long after that they spotted a measure of pale light.
The tunnel opened up into the floor of a shady verdant crevasse brimming with abundant foliage, lush oversized greenery dotted the basin while two curtains of twisted vines dangled down steep cliffsides, above which, our heroes spied an elongated slat of reddening sky seeped with an inky blackness that had begun to unveil night’s twinkling star patterns.
They had emerged into dusk.
The day’s failing light lingered still and our heroes quickly took the opportunity to forage amongst the vegetation for supplies. Their scouting took them to the far end of the crevasse, no way out could be found other than up the cliffside.
None of our heroes considered themselves to be capable climbers and instead, they decided to return to the ruins and explore further.
Only their lantern kept the enveloping darkness at bay as they descended once more into the dilapidated cavernous region.
For a while they explored; heaped detritus and moss coated piles of rubble revealed nothing of interest.
It was then that Brother Steve felt a tremor through his boots, it seemed to pulsate rhythmically, weak at first but rapidly increasing in pace until the cavern’s earthy flooring split, hurling out a shower of dirt and a monstrous worm-like creature emerged. It flailed blindly for a moment before sensing our heroes and attacking.
Our heroes were mostly caught flatfooted as the creature lunged for them but they withstood the attack and managed to slay the monster.
Undeterred, they continued exploring.
Their strength was dwindling fast, Wensley was fading, rest had to come soon. An unwelcoming warren of unlit tunnels stretched into the unknowable darkness ahead.
While behind them the way led past several of the poisonous everburning lanterns.
They decided for a time to explore deeper into the caves and tunnels and search for a suitable campsite.
Soon they came to what they hoped would be a concealed and defensible cul-de-sac and settled for a worrisome rest and each took watches in this precarious location.
Luck was with our heroes and the hours passed without interruption: Somewhat reinvigorated, our heroes set forth to continue their exploration.
Pressing on, further ruinous remains were revealed by the dim glow of their lantern light and faded into nothingness as they passed through several cavernous areas.
Soon our heroes became aware that the way they were following was sloping upwards and not long after that they spotted a measure of pale light.
The tunnel opened up into the floor of a shady verdant crevasse brimming with abundant foliage, lush oversized greenery dotted the basin while two curtains of twisted vines dangled down steep cliffsides, above which, our heroes spied an elongated slat of reddening sky seeped with an inky blackness that had begun to unveil night’s twinkling star patterns.
They had emerged into dusk.
The day’s failing light lingered still and our heroes quickly took the opportunity to forage amongst the vegetation for supplies. Their scouting took them to the far end of the crevasse, no way out could be found other than up the cliffside.
None of our heroes considered themselves to be capable climbers and instead, they decided to return to the ruins and explore further.
Only their lantern kept the enveloping darkness at bay as they descended once more into the dilapidated cavernous region.
For a while they explored; heaped detritus and moss coated piles of rubble revealed nothing of interest.
It was then that Brother Steve felt a tremor through his boots, it seemed to pulsate rhythmically, weak at first but rapidly increasing in pace until the cavern’s earthy flooring split, hurling out a shower of dirt and a monstrous worm-like creature emerged. It flailed blindly for a moment before sensing our heroes and attacking.
Our heroes were mostly caught flatfooted as the creature lunged for them but they withstood the attack and managed to slay the monster.
Undeterred, they continued exploring.
A monstrous worm-like creature.... not a Maoam sweet....
Further searching only revealed more crumbled ruins, indecipherable remains of another time. Our heroes went on for a while until they were abruptly attacked by more troglodytes who stormed through some of the tunnels.
Fighting was vicious, blows were exchanged. Put on the backfoot by a flurry of blows, Cheery was eventually felled. Ultimately, though, our heroes were victorious and the troglodytes were dispatched.
Brother Steve immediately bestowed a blessing on Cheery and soon, the halfling was back on his feet and our heroes resumed
Fighting was vicious, blows were exchanged. Put on the backfoot by a flurry of blows, Cheery was eventually felled. Ultimately, though, our heroes were victorious and the troglodytes were dispatched.
Brother Steve immediately bestowed a blessing on Cheery and soon, the halfling was back on his feet and our heroes resumed
More troglodytes.
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They never know when to quit!
|
They explored for a time and it became apparent after uncovering much of the ruins that there was nothing to be found amongst the detritus.
Unwilling to backtrack past the everburning lanterns, our heroes instead chose to climb out of the crevasse.
Day had utterly receded upon their return to the crevasse, only starlit night was visible above while the encroaching darkness had draped over the dense foliage that littered it. Deciding that a night climb would prove more hazardous, our heroes camped and waited for dawn.
Hours passed, the sliver of visible constellations high above wheeled away before the arrival of a yellowish sunrise, the merest hint of sunlight glinted along the rim of the crevasse. A light persistent mist in the depression had coated the greenery in a sparkling dew while an heady earthy aroma hung in the air.
Of our heroes, Wensley was considered the best climber, so he grabbed a generous length of rope and began his ascent. It was an easier climb than he expected, a wealth of sturdy grassy handholds and vines made light work of it.
Wensley found himself at the edge of a dense, tall forest that tapered away into a verdant gloom. Its leafy expansion hindered only by the presence of the crevasse. He secured the rope and dropped a line. Soon the rest of our heroes were on the surface.
Our heroes marched on, looking for an opportunity to gather their bearings. Birdsong and occasional rustling bushes punctuated the forest’s airy stillness, hazy shafts of sunlight speared through gaps in the towering lush canopy that swayed lazily in the sighing breeze and provided sanctuary from the morning heat. Even so, as they continued, it was undeniable that the heat was rising to sweltering levels.
For a time they passed through the low brush and duff that carpeted the forest floor, navigating the hidden tree roots and uneven ground beneath and eventually, the forest began to thin out. A discernible skyline coalesced into view through the gnarled ancient trunks, the canopy split, giving way to an open cerulean expanse above, its shade reduced to spots of shadow below lone trees.
Then the forest fell away altogether as our heroes found themselves approaching marshy flats ahead that stretched to the horizon. Gloomy pools, populated by tall reeds and buzzing fly-clouds glinted in the midday sun. A multitude of giant geckoes could be seen basking on drier raised patches.
Our heroes had found themselves back in the Gecko Fens.
Taking stock, they remembered that back at the bony crypts there had been a fume-filled, unexplored room. Discussion followed and it was decided they should return to the crypt and that room.
Our heroes struck out south, the forest beckoned while the fens shrank away, once again obscured behind the treeline.
For hours they hiked a pathless route that led them into the depths of the dim forest. After a time, they became aware that something was following them. What it was, they could not easily discern, only that something was moving from tree-to-tree high above them. Our heroes made effort to conceal that they had spotted their stalker and kept on walking.
Subtly, they watched their pursuer and it became apparent it was one of froglings who knew to inhabit this region of the forest. Our heroes marvelled at how the frogling effortlessly navigated the branches and trunks and also noticed how the hue of the frogling’s skin seemed to squirm and shift to match their surroundings. Since they seemed to prove no threat towards our heroes, they allowed the frogling to follow but at some point later, either they lost sight of the frogling or they stopped following.
The detritus and foliage which littered the forest floor gave way to rugged shrub and gorse that flourished on the grassy rises and falls our heroes now encountered. The going got harder as the terrain became uneven, dense forest melted away leaving only copses and tree-topped hillocks. Exposed rocky outcrops jutted through the greenery while the landscape tilted upwards as our heroes passed weather worn, tumbled stony ruins. They were close to the crypt.
As our heroes reached their destination, the reddening sun had begun its decline behind the tallest treetops, bathing the now familiar hilltop in a crimson nimbus. The shroud of night would soon be upon them and it was decided to camp for the night.
An eventless night passed and cool misty dawn followed. Our heroes began their descent of the bony steps.
The descent took them into the familiar darkness kept at bay only by their lantern, passing through skull-lined, sagging corridors; our heroes soon found themselves in the familiar room of the broken slabs. Thin, low tendrils of eerie green vaporous smoke hung at ankle height here, gently undulating out of the doorway to the other chamber, the chamber that our heroes knew contained an everburning lantern. They could see the equally eerie green glow that softly permeated the room beyond the doorway.
Brother Steve and Cheery masked themselves before entering the room. It almost instantly turned right before broad steps descended. Ahead, the gaseous substance had pooled thickly in the lowered part of the room, unable to escape the depression and obfuscating the contents
They went down the steps, becoming enveloped by the vile coloured mist and found themselves in almost other-worldy environs. Quickly, they covered the lantern in their tarpaulin, even though it knew it would provide minimal immediate help.
The strange mist did little to hinder our heroes. They searched the room and soon found an altar on the far side. On this altar, they found a talisman and a statuette of some sort. Snatching the items, they quickly fled the low room.
Safely absconded from the dangerous fumes, our heroes scrutinised the items.
Fashioned from some non-valuable metallic substance, one face of the talisman presented the stylised image of a racoon in relief. Our heroes remembered a corridor in one of the lower parts of the crypt that possessed an unbreakable closed door decorated only with a racoon shaped depression. It seemed this talisman would fit into that depression.
The statuette was a curious item, carved from some unknown wood, it depicted a moon and a mushroom, seemingly entangled with one another.
It was a short march deeper into the crypts to reach the racoon door; an entirely stone construct that barred the way ahead and that had no lock, handle or even hinges: Only a circular depression that matched the relief on the medallion.
A distinct click immediately emanated from the depression once the medallion had pressed against it, followed by a low rumbling grind.
Flakes of stone rained down, dust billowed and the door shook as it slid open, revealing a darkened chamber that varnished into darkness ahead.
As our heroes advanced, lanternlight revealed more bulging stonework walls, skull covered columns and another sagging ceiling. A few steps and stumbling out of the void, skeletons came lurching forwards, attracted by the light and attacking without hesitation.
The fight was somewhat brief, the undead fell before the unrelenting attacks of our heroes and with the threat vanquished, they explored.
To the rear of the chamber was a bone-crusted altar in some alcove and upon it sat a curious item: Carved entirely of some lampblack material was a mask stylised as the face of a raccoon.
Unwilling to backtrack past the everburning lanterns, our heroes instead chose to climb out of the crevasse.
Day had utterly receded upon their return to the crevasse, only starlit night was visible above while the encroaching darkness had draped over the dense foliage that littered it. Deciding that a night climb would prove more hazardous, our heroes camped and waited for dawn.
Hours passed, the sliver of visible constellations high above wheeled away before the arrival of a yellowish sunrise, the merest hint of sunlight glinted along the rim of the crevasse. A light persistent mist in the depression had coated the greenery in a sparkling dew while an heady earthy aroma hung in the air.
Of our heroes, Wensley was considered the best climber, so he grabbed a generous length of rope and began his ascent. It was an easier climb than he expected, a wealth of sturdy grassy handholds and vines made light work of it.
Wensley found himself at the edge of a dense, tall forest that tapered away into a verdant gloom. Its leafy expansion hindered only by the presence of the crevasse. He secured the rope and dropped a line. Soon the rest of our heroes were on the surface.
Our heroes marched on, looking for an opportunity to gather their bearings. Birdsong and occasional rustling bushes punctuated the forest’s airy stillness, hazy shafts of sunlight speared through gaps in the towering lush canopy that swayed lazily in the sighing breeze and provided sanctuary from the morning heat. Even so, as they continued, it was undeniable that the heat was rising to sweltering levels.
For a time they passed through the low brush and duff that carpeted the forest floor, navigating the hidden tree roots and uneven ground beneath and eventually, the forest began to thin out. A discernible skyline coalesced into view through the gnarled ancient trunks, the canopy split, giving way to an open cerulean expanse above, its shade reduced to spots of shadow below lone trees.
Then the forest fell away altogether as our heroes found themselves approaching marshy flats ahead that stretched to the horizon. Gloomy pools, populated by tall reeds and buzzing fly-clouds glinted in the midday sun. A multitude of giant geckoes could be seen basking on drier raised patches.
Our heroes had found themselves back in the Gecko Fens.
Taking stock, they remembered that back at the bony crypts there had been a fume-filled, unexplored room. Discussion followed and it was decided they should return to the crypt and that room.
Our heroes struck out south, the forest beckoned while the fens shrank away, once again obscured behind the treeline.
For hours they hiked a pathless route that led them into the depths of the dim forest. After a time, they became aware that something was following them. What it was, they could not easily discern, only that something was moving from tree-to-tree high above them. Our heroes made effort to conceal that they had spotted their stalker and kept on walking.
Subtly, they watched their pursuer and it became apparent it was one of froglings who knew to inhabit this region of the forest. Our heroes marvelled at how the frogling effortlessly navigated the branches and trunks and also noticed how the hue of the frogling’s skin seemed to squirm and shift to match their surroundings. Since they seemed to prove no threat towards our heroes, they allowed the frogling to follow but at some point later, either they lost sight of the frogling or they stopped following.
The detritus and foliage which littered the forest floor gave way to rugged shrub and gorse that flourished on the grassy rises and falls our heroes now encountered. The going got harder as the terrain became uneven, dense forest melted away leaving only copses and tree-topped hillocks. Exposed rocky outcrops jutted through the greenery while the landscape tilted upwards as our heroes passed weather worn, tumbled stony ruins. They were close to the crypt.
As our heroes reached their destination, the reddening sun had begun its decline behind the tallest treetops, bathing the now familiar hilltop in a crimson nimbus. The shroud of night would soon be upon them and it was decided to camp for the night.
An eventless night passed and cool misty dawn followed. Our heroes began their descent of the bony steps.
The descent took them into the familiar darkness kept at bay only by their lantern, passing through skull-lined, sagging corridors; our heroes soon found themselves in the familiar room of the broken slabs. Thin, low tendrils of eerie green vaporous smoke hung at ankle height here, gently undulating out of the doorway to the other chamber, the chamber that our heroes knew contained an everburning lantern. They could see the equally eerie green glow that softly permeated the room beyond the doorway.
Brother Steve and Cheery masked themselves before entering the room. It almost instantly turned right before broad steps descended. Ahead, the gaseous substance had pooled thickly in the lowered part of the room, unable to escape the depression and obfuscating the contents
They went down the steps, becoming enveloped by the vile coloured mist and found themselves in almost other-worldy environs. Quickly, they covered the lantern in their tarpaulin, even though it knew it would provide minimal immediate help.
The strange mist did little to hinder our heroes. They searched the room and soon found an altar on the far side. On this altar, they found a talisman and a statuette of some sort. Snatching the items, they quickly fled the low room.
Safely absconded from the dangerous fumes, our heroes scrutinised the items.
Fashioned from some non-valuable metallic substance, one face of the talisman presented the stylised image of a racoon in relief. Our heroes remembered a corridor in one of the lower parts of the crypt that possessed an unbreakable closed door decorated only with a racoon shaped depression. It seemed this talisman would fit into that depression.
The statuette was a curious item, carved from some unknown wood, it depicted a moon and a mushroom, seemingly entangled with one another.
It was a short march deeper into the crypts to reach the racoon door; an entirely stone construct that barred the way ahead and that had no lock, handle or even hinges: Only a circular depression that matched the relief on the medallion.
A distinct click immediately emanated from the depression once the medallion had pressed against it, followed by a low rumbling grind.
Flakes of stone rained down, dust billowed and the door shook as it slid open, revealing a darkened chamber that varnished into darkness ahead.
As our heroes advanced, lanternlight revealed more bulging stonework walls, skull covered columns and another sagging ceiling. A few steps and stumbling out of the void, skeletons came lurching forwards, attracted by the light and attacking without hesitation.
The fight was somewhat brief, the undead fell before the unrelenting attacks of our heroes and with the threat vanquished, they explored.
To the rear of the chamber was a bone-crusted altar in some alcove and upon it sat a curious item: Carved entirely of some lampblack material was a mask stylised as the face of a raccoon.
An empty chamber....
Fighting continues.
|
Oh no it isn't.
Our heroes victorious.
|
Wensley peered at the mask for a while, frustration eventually crossing his face as he could recall no information or knowledge regarding such a thing?
Impatience got the better of Brother Steve though, stepping forward he snatched the mask and placed it on his face!
Through the eyeholes, it seemed to Brother Steve that the already poorly lit chamber further dimmed, colour seemed to fail, spreading shadows inextricably slid up the walls, the others became ethereal and distant, the lantern fluttered weakly.
Pulling the mask off, Brother Steve’s surroundings returned to normal. Colour seeped back into the chamber, he became aware of the others standing close. He gained the sense that the mask had cloaked him in a sorcerous darkness, obscuring his very presence. The mask was of little use to him, instead he passed it on to Wensley.
Much of the day still remained and our heroes exited the decaying crypt and marched east. Tree lined hills flattened out while the sporadic ancient ruins that dotted the landscape vanished altogether.
The journey took our heroes back into a gloomy wooded region. While widely spaced, the tall trees here still provided a shady canopy from the day’s heat and verdant layer of lush foliage and ferns carpeted the forest floor until eventually, our heroes found themselves back at the enormous tangled wall of red briars which had previously barred their way. The wickedly sharp briar patch infested the trees here, expanding to fill the gaps between and even undergrowth had been driven out. Our heroes could see that the sprawling patch extended deep into the southern woods.
Instead then, they turned north and continued the march through the forest. The journey took them in sight of the logger’s camp which they rounded until they came across the King’s Highway. It’s old paving stones split by energetic weed growths. From there they took the highway until it passed the circus site.
A crimson line along the western horizon meant day would soon fail and a buzz was amidst the circus as performers hurried to and fro from one multicoloured tent to another. No doubt in preparation for tonight’s performance.
The circus was also home to the mysterious Ermerelda, oracle of days-yet-to-come who our heroes had paid coin for reading in the past - and who they sought out again!
She was found in her smallish tent embroidered with esoteric symbols and decorated with dangling talismans and dressed in a colourful voluminous robe and headband. Upon questioning the fortune teller about curses, she admitted that such things were not within the bounds of her remit, saying they were “bad things”.. Our heroes then asked if anyone else in the circus could help and Esmerelda did not believe anyone had such a skill.
Our heroes then decided to ask for another reading and passed one hundred gold across her palm.
Esmerelda took them into her tent; she sat at her table, palms on the worktop. Closing her eyes, a profound expression of concentration crossed her face and her breathing deepened.
Did an etheric wind, soft and ephemeral tug at our heroes and flutter Esmerelda’s hair, it was difficult to tell. After a few minutes Esmerelda roused from her trance and spoke with dramatic elaboration and booming voice.
“Cloaked in flame, born of smoke, put to shame, when fire awoke,” said Esmerelda.
Our heroes pondered the phrase, perhaps it related to the Mount Slagmaw volcano they thought: Regardless though, there was little else to be gained at the circus and they decided to return to their farmstead.
The cool pall of cloudless night with its starry patterns sliding overhead had settled itself over the land by the end of their final slog. Our heroes skirted the weakly glittering lights of Illmire, cutting through the long grasses of uncultivated land to reach their new home.
Despite its sparse, unfurnished interior and empty, echoing rooms, it was a welcome sight. Our heroes settled for what would be an uneventful night.
Impatience got the better of Brother Steve though, stepping forward he snatched the mask and placed it on his face!
Through the eyeholes, it seemed to Brother Steve that the already poorly lit chamber further dimmed, colour seemed to fail, spreading shadows inextricably slid up the walls, the others became ethereal and distant, the lantern fluttered weakly.
Pulling the mask off, Brother Steve’s surroundings returned to normal. Colour seeped back into the chamber, he became aware of the others standing close. He gained the sense that the mask had cloaked him in a sorcerous darkness, obscuring his very presence. The mask was of little use to him, instead he passed it on to Wensley.
Much of the day still remained and our heroes exited the decaying crypt and marched east. Tree lined hills flattened out while the sporadic ancient ruins that dotted the landscape vanished altogether.
The journey took our heroes back into a gloomy wooded region. While widely spaced, the tall trees here still provided a shady canopy from the day’s heat and verdant layer of lush foliage and ferns carpeted the forest floor until eventually, our heroes found themselves back at the enormous tangled wall of red briars which had previously barred their way. The wickedly sharp briar patch infested the trees here, expanding to fill the gaps between and even undergrowth had been driven out. Our heroes could see that the sprawling patch extended deep into the southern woods.
Instead then, they turned north and continued the march through the forest. The journey took them in sight of the logger’s camp which they rounded until they came across the King’s Highway. It’s old paving stones split by energetic weed growths. From there they took the highway until it passed the circus site.
A crimson line along the western horizon meant day would soon fail and a buzz was amidst the circus as performers hurried to and fro from one multicoloured tent to another. No doubt in preparation for tonight’s performance.
The circus was also home to the mysterious Ermerelda, oracle of days-yet-to-come who our heroes had paid coin for reading in the past - and who they sought out again!
She was found in her smallish tent embroidered with esoteric symbols and decorated with dangling talismans and dressed in a colourful voluminous robe and headband. Upon questioning the fortune teller about curses, she admitted that such things were not within the bounds of her remit, saying they were “bad things”.. Our heroes then asked if anyone else in the circus could help and Esmerelda did not believe anyone had such a skill.
Our heroes then decided to ask for another reading and passed one hundred gold across her palm.
Esmerelda took them into her tent; she sat at her table, palms on the worktop. Closing her eyes, a profound expression of concentration crossed her face and her breathing deepened.
Did an etheric wind, soft and ephemeral tug at our heroes and flutter Esmerelda’s hair, it was difficult to tell. After a few minutes Esmerelda roused from her trance and spoke with dramatic elaboration and booming voice.
“Cloaked in flame, born of smoke, put to shame, when fire awoke,” said Esmerelda.
Our heroes pondered the phrase, perhaps it related to the Mount Slagmaw volcano they thought: Regardless though, there was little else to be gained at the circus and they decided to return to their farmstead.
The cool pall of cloudless night with its starry patterns sliding overhead had settled itself over the land by the end of their final slog. Our heroes skirted the weakly glittering lights of Illmire, cutting through the long grasses of uncultivated land to reach their new home.
Despite its sparse, unfurnished interior and empty, echoing rooms, it was a welcome sight. Our heroes settled for what would be an uneventful night.
Rex wants to see what the dice 'really' rolled!
Another Illmire dawn arrived, along with its routine misty veil that hung beneath a bleak sunless sky. Our heroes took the walk into the town and headed to Deela and Lanham, the friendliest folk they knew in the sombre settlement.
The couple were happy enough to see our heroes, they engaged in friendly gossip and chatter, little had changed in the days our heroes had been away.
Our heroes then discussed the possibility of invading the mayor’s home and they spent some time in the inn. Wensley, considered the most stealthy of them and following sunfall, was sent out to case the small manse.
It was a stout brick house with reinforced and shuttered windows on the ground floor and also one of the few buildings in Illmire to have more than one storey. Wensley returned to his companions having not found any easy entry into the mansion.
Our heroes headed back to their farmstead, once again traipsing through uncultivated fields under the starlit dome of night.
The couple were happy enough to see our heroes, they engaged in friendly gossip and chatter, little had changed in the days our heroes had been away.
Our heroes then discussed the possibility of invading the mayor’s home and they spent some time in the inn. Wensley, considered the most stealthy of them and following sunfall, was sent out to case the small manse.
It was a stout brick house with reinforced and shuttered windows on the ground floor and also one of the few buildings in Illmire to have more than one storey. Wensley returned to his companions having not found any easy entry into the mansion.
Our heroes headed back to their farmstead, once again traipsing through uncultivated fields under the starlit dome of night.
Our heroes sojourn for the night.
Our heroes had decided to venture further west with the intention of exploring the swampy region beyond the gecko fens.
Early was the hour of their departure and fresh from their night’s rest, they energetically set off with the thin yellow sliver of a foggy dawn at their backs. For a time they marched and the town with its surrounding farmlands fell away, replaced by low, gently undulating wetlands where stretches of dry land intermingled with marshy reed-filled pools that glittered in the late morning sun and accommodated water fowl. The geckoes for which the fens were so named could be seen in abundance basking lazily under the warming sky .
Our heroes pressed on, braving furious clouds of biting insects and unseen drops in murky pools, eventually swinging north as shadows shortened while the sun approached its zenith. Their passage through the fens was uneventful and soon the landscape levelled out.
Ahead was a large tract of expansive and mostly featureless mudflats that stretched to the horizon, much of it appearing ankle-deep in stagnant waters and punctuated only by dense clumps of hardy flora and the occasional glum looking tree rising from the surrounding marshwater. Mindful of the unreliable terrain, our heroes laboriously sloshed onwards through the near lifeless region for a time.
Then they were for the most part caught unawares by mantismen who inexplicably burst from seemingly thin air close to nearby foliage. The small number of insectoid aggressors regarded our heroes with weird alien visages as they unhesitatingly lunged and attacked.
Our heroes outnumbered the mantisman who quickly fell to their blows, the bizarre creatures were soon vanquished.
The abrupt appearance of the mantismen puzzled our heroes, they searched the bushes and plants close to the origin of the attack and found no hiding place or understanding of how they’d been attacked.
Frustrated, they resumed their march.
Early was the hour of their departure and fresh from their night’s rest, they energetically set off with the thin yellow sliver of a foggy dawn at their backs. For a time they marched and the town with its surrounding farmlands fell away, replaced by low, gently undulating wetlands where stretches of dry land intermingled with marshy reed-filled pools that glittered in the late morning sun and accommodated water fowl. The geckoes for which the fens were so named could be seen in abundance basking lazily under the warming sky .
Our heroes pressed on, braving furious clouds of biting insects and unseen drops in murky pools, eventually swinging north as shadows shortened while the sun approached its zenith. Their passage through the fens was uneventful and soon the landscape levelled out.
Ahead was a large tract of expansive and mostly featureless mudflats that stretched to the horizon, much of it appearing ankle-deep in stagnant waters and punctuated only by dense clumps of hardy flora and the occasional glum looking tree rising from the surrounding marshwater. Mindful of the unreliable terrain, our heroes laboriously sloshed onwards through the near lifeless region for a time.
Then they were for the most part caught unawares by mantismen who inexplicably burst from seemingly thin air close to nearby foliage. The small number of insectoid aggressors regarded our heroes with weird alien visages as they unhesitatingly lunged and attacked.
Our heroes outnumbered the mantisman who quickly fell to their blows, the bizarre creatures were soon vanquished.
The abrupt appearance of the mantismen puzzled our heroes, they searched the bushes and plants close to the origin of the attack and found no hiding place or understanding of how they’d been attacked.
Frustrated, they resumed their march.
Mantismen attack.
As they continued on their north-westerly heading, they spied a range of mountains along the northern horizon, distant peaks appeared grey-blue as they began to loom above the hazy skyline.
The onset of afternoon did nothing to lessen the day’s cruel heat as our heroes travelled on but eventually as hints of red appeared across the eastern sky, they found the terrain beginning to rise. The wetland gave way to somewhat drier land as the furthest foothills of the mountains extended here.
The rises were populated with lush foliage that was copious with buzzling insects, scuttling reptiles and noisily calling birds while close-packed mangrove trees ringed the sluggish impenetrable waters of the swampy lows.
The pace lessened as our heroes were forced to traverse this thickly vegetated landscape that so contrasted the dismal flats they had exited but soon enough, they came across a curious sight.
Ahead, they found several unusually detailed statues standing among the grasses and shrubs. They depicted numerous types of people in various guises, many of whom stood in unusual surprised poses, often with well depicted looks of shock across their stony faces.
A cursory examination revealed nothing particularly special about these statues….
Our heroes decided to press on.
They marched on for a while, until Brother Steve raised a hand, the others stopped and looked at him quizzically, he pointed towards through a gap in the bushes to a smallish secluded clearing.
Within were three strange beasts, with feathers, scales and bat’s wings, they were the size of a large chicken and featured beaked faces. Whatever they were, our heroes did not recognise them.
Unsure of their nature, our heroes did not take a chance, Cheery loosed an arrow at one while the others heroically charged in.
The fighting was fierce, furious attacks and vicious pecks were exchanged. Brother Steve was struck a serious blow but was otherwise unharmed.
One of the beasts was felled and then second but it was not enough and Wensley received a hit. He felt his movements become sluggish, his limbs stiffen and vision dim before becoming altogether black.
As the final beast was struck down, the others saw the colour drain from a frozen Wensley, replaced by a rocky hue that almost instantaneously seeped through his entire form.
Where once stood Wensley, now stood a perfect representation of him in stone.
The onset of afternoon did nothing to lessen the day’s cruel heat as our heroes travelled on but eventually as hints of red appeared across the eastern sky, they found the terrain beginning to rise. The wetland gave way to somewhat drier land as the furthest foothills of the mountains extended here.
The rises were populated with lush foliage that was copious with buzzling insects, scuttling reptiles and noisily calling birds while close-packed mangrove trees ringed the sluggish impenetrable waters of the swampy lows.
The pace lessened as our heroes were forced to traverse this thickly vegetated landscape that so contrasted the dismal flats they had exited but soon enough, they came across a curious sight.
Ahead, they found several unusually detailed statues standing among the grasses and shrubs. They depicted numerous types of people in various guises, many of whom stood in unusual surprised poses, often with well depicted looks of shock across their stony faces.
A cursory examination revealed nothing particularly special about these statues….
Our heroes decided to press on.
They marched on for a while, until Brother Steve raised a hand, the others stopped and looked at him quizzically, he pointed towards through a gap in the bushes to a smallish secluded clearing.
Within were three strange beasts, with feathers, scales and bat’s wings, they were the size of a large chicken and featured beaked faces. Whatever they were, our heroes did not recognise them.
Unsure of their nature, our heroes did not take a chance, Cheery loosed an arrow at one while the others heroically charged in.
The fighting was fierce, furious attacks and vicious pecks were exchanged. Brother Steve was struck a serious blow but was otherwise unharmed.
One of the beasts was felled and then second but it was not enough and Wensley received a hit. He felt his movements become sluggish, his limbs stiffen and vision dim before becoming altogether black.
As the final beast was struck down, the others saw the colour drain from a frozen Wensley, replaced by a rocky hue that almost instantaneously seeped through his entire form.
Where once stood Wensley, now stood a perfect representation of him in stone.
Cockatrice attack!
Following an examination of Wensley’s petrified form, our heroes could not gauge exactly what happened to him. Was he somehow still alive? It was impossible to tell. Nor did they know of any manner to reverse the condition.
They took stock of the situation, the apparent loss of one of their company had left them depleted.
It was decided to withdraw by our heroes and to return to their farmstead.
Turning back and with some effort, they dragged the Craggy Wensley with them as they left the teeming swamp behind and found themselves back in the open flat landscape. Day was waning, a gloaming sky sprawled from the east. drenching the sparse wetland ahead a crimson hue.
Continuing on, they suddenly found themselves sinking, their footing had vanished, they had stumbled into one of the numerous sinking pools that dotted the area. Cheery and Berto retained their wits and hurled themselves free of the sucking pit! Brother Steve though, had panicked and was sinking deeper. Quickly, Berto grabbed a line and hurled it at Brother Steve who managed to grasp it and was pulled free. For a moment, our heroes wondered what was wrong? Then it dawned on them, Wensley’s statue was rapidly sinking. Without any mishap, our heroes managed to heft his craggy form free of the quicksand.
A while later and our heroes were out of the hazardous mudflats. Night was spreading across Illmire, starlight dimly glittered in the myriad of gloomy pools that dotted the fens. The usual vigorous hubbub of the wetland had died with the daylight, replaced with the quiet croak of frogs and cricket-song. Driven by cooling zephyrs, larger bodies of water sloshed lazily while reeds and foliage swayed and sighed gently as our heroes pressed on, dragging Wensley along all the time.
It was entirely dark at the arrival of our heroes at their farmstead. The stumbling path they had taken meandered through tall browned grasses and along old overgrown hedgerows until eventually the welcome site of the farmhouse emerged from disorientating foliage to greet our exhausted heroes
They took stock of the situation, the apparent loss of one of their company had left them depleted.
It was decided to withdraw by our heroes and to return to their farmstead.
Turning back and with some effort, they dragged the Craggy Wensley with them as they left the teeming swamp behind and found themselves back in the open flat landscape. Day was waning, a gloaming sky sprawled from the east. drenching the sparse wetland ahead a crimson hue.
Continuing on, they suddenly found themselves sinking, their footing had vanished, they had stumbled into one of the numerous sinking pools that dotted the area. Cheery and Berto retained their wits and hurled themselves free of the sucking pit! Brother Steve though, had panicked and was sinking deeper. Quickly, Berto grabbed a line and hurled it at Brother Steve who managed to grasp it and was pulled free. For a moment, our heroes wondered what was wrong? Then it dawned on them, Wensley’s statue was rapidly sinking. Without any mishap, our heroes managed to heft his craggy form free of the quicksand.
A while later and our heroes were out of the hazardous mudflats. Night was spreading across Illmire, starlight dimly glittered in the myriad of gloomy pools that dotted the fens. The usual vigorous hubbub of the wetland had died with the daylight, replaced with the quiet croak of frogs and cricket-song. Driven by cooling zephyrs, larger bodies of water sloshed lazily while reeds and foliage swayed and sighed gently as our heroes pressed on, dragging Wensley along all the time.
It was entirely dark at the arrival of our heroes at their farmstead. The stumbling path they had taken meandered through tall browned grasses and along old overgrown hedgerows until eventually the welcome site of the farmhouse emerged from disorientating foliage to greet our exhausted heroes
Rest time!
