Romance of The Perilous Land - Session 02

22nd July 2021

It's a Thursday and we're round Simon's for session 2 of Matt's Romance of The Perilous Land game.

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​Location: Trapdoor at Gregory’s farm, Millet Town

Steps had been carved from very the earth and topped with packed stone, gloomily spiralled downwards into the corner of a small man-made chamber of stone lined walls fitted with sconces of dulled ancient iron that barely glimmered in the light of Trefor’s petty-magic spell.
A grim, putrid nearly vomit-inducing odour lingered in the air here while the sharp chatter of running water reverberated across the walls.
Trefor, Titus, Colan and Hobard stiffened their resolve: A brief search revealed the chamber was featureless, save for a pair of unlit corridors in the southern half of the room that ran east and west. The company was presented with two exits.

The west path was chosen. Shadows evaporated before their light as the company advanced with weapons drawn. They soon found themselves in a short snaking tunnel of unexpected corners materialising out of the dark, all the while the sickly sweet smell of rot only intensified.
The tunnel finally turned south and opened into the north-east corner of another stone walled but evenly floored room.

At the limits of their light, the company could see shifting murky colours ahead; something was moving. The company stepped into the room, revealing a body slumped against the far wall, a moment of realisation passed when they realised it was a corpse, then they saw the source of movement.
Alongside the corpse were two diminutive hunched figures, they appeared to be gnawing at the remains. Their clothing was tattered and muted but adorning their heads were caps the hue of glistening gore; redcaps - murderous imps.
The light had drawn the redcaps’ ire, they span to face the company, eyes glittering like coals while threatening hisses split their malevolent smiles, revealing sharp, stained teeth. Unhesitatingly, the redcaps lunged to attack.
The company was quick to respond and the clash was joined. The redcaps lacked numbers to truly threaten the company and quickly fell to the companys’ attacks.

With the redcaps dispatched, the company approached the body.
The unfortunate man had not long been dead, surmised Trefor, meeting his demise a day, perhaps two ago. By the looks of it; a trader dressed in traveller’s garb, he must have been snatched from the road that passed Millet Town.
Despite the stink, the company searched the room.
Scattered throughout the room was detritus of another age, patches of shattered glassware, crumpled and splintered boxes littered the floor. Dust coated grimy jars and boxes sat on old sagging shelves while timeworn crates and ancient barrels were piled in one corner. Whatever they might have contained was long gone.
On the trader’s remains, they found some coins and garments.

No exits were visible in this room. The company doubled-back and followed the easterly tunnel from the first chamber into more darkness. Soon, it too turned south before a small tunnel branched to the east.
As the company went along the east branch, the stench of rot persisted and ended in a square chamber. Revealed were four old, dismal wooden sleeping cots with stained, discoloured blankets strewn atop.
Gathered round a barrel were three more redcaps. Upon seeing the company, they did not hesitate in attacking..
Another short battle ensued, blows were exchanged but the redcaps lacked the strength to withstand the attacks of Colan and Hobard, quickly being hewed down.

The barrel which had held the attention of the redcaps was filled with offal! Otherwise, there was little to be found in this save for the curious jars that dotted the stone floor. There were four, each filled with a liquid of differing colour; blue, brown, purple and yellow.
Trefor examined them, he was quite sure three of them were laced with magic while the yellow was not, he was sure the purple liquid was a potion of flight. The others he could not discern.

Titus grabbed the brown potion, unstoppering it. A mossy aroma wafted to his nose, it was not enough to deter him from drinking it. For a moment Titus seemed to convulse, twisting strangely, then he was gone?
No, not gone. Instead where he had been now stood a rat starting up at us with a rodent look of surprise on his face! Gone was Titus the Munchkin, here was Titus the Tiny!
“Transformation potion,” Trefor uttered with surprise, startled to see such potent magic in this place.
Colan meanwhile, had taken the blue potion. Despite smelling of sewer water, he did not hesitate in swallowing it. He too vanished, or at least in the eyes of the others he had done so!
Colan however, was still in the room! The liquid had genuinely rendered him invisible. Unfortunately, the effect did not linger and soon, he impossibly materialised out of thin air in view of the rest of the company.
Undeterred, Colan immediately drank the brown potion and immediately regretted it! Poison now ran through Colan’s veins. Wracked with pain, he bent double.Fortunately, his considerable constitution allowed him to weather the effect.
Once Titus had reverted to normal and Colan had recovered. The company walked back to the branch and pressed on southwards.

Soon enough the tunnel weaved through a couple more corners and finally turned south, ending in another chamber, the stench of rot had not subsided and a pale glow radiated through the doorway ahead, the gargling of water was even louder.

Silently, Titus crept ahead.
Outlined in dim light he caught sight of an old woman surrounded by a circle of what Titus recognised to be bone charms while coming into sight were three more redcaps, this time dragging a number of chickens, while one was casually gnawing on a mannish arm.
Stooped low, the old woman’s sinewy, slender claw-like hands clutched the carcass of a pig while grey-black hair draped over a filthy grey voluminous shawl, half hiding an ancient wrinkled face. Her head tilted a notch, revealing a glistening thick smear of blood that coated the lower half of her decrepit creased face, she was consuming the pig raw!
Without hesitation, Titus darted forward pulling free his sword and leaping mightily, he bounded across the redcaps’ heads and flung himself in a flying attack at the crone.
With speed that belied her aged appearance and with a whirl of clothing, she vacated the spot of Titus’ attack, who proceeded to crash in a heap on the hard ground.
Taking advantage, the redcaps pounced on him in a cacophony of snarling hisses.
Unprepared for Titus’ sudden attack, the others had to gather their wits and charge into the fight. They laid into the crone and redcaps while Titus recomposed himself.
A ferocious opponent, the crone fought hard and it was a desperate fight, after sustained attack though, she, and the redcaps were dispatched. Titus had borne the worst of it, taking serious injuries and barely able to stand.
Once Titus had been seen to, the company took stock of the situation.

Trefor’s light was caught on noisily moving waters, glittering on a thousand undulating spots. A vigorously flowing stream ran the entire length of the chamber’s southern wall.
Debris and animal remains were scattered haphazardly across the floor. there was nothing else of note in the room.
The company tested the stream’s cold waters, it did not seem too deep nor too strong a current. Steeling themselves, they waded downstream.
Laboriously, the company advanced through the dark tunnel and a while later, a faint speck of light appeared ahead. As the company pressed forward, the speck steadily grew, becoming an exit out of a hillside and under a starry night.

Freed of its subterranean constraints, the stream widened into a slower moving and shallower river. Under the night sky, the dark watery ribbon ran its course, the company continued following.

A while later, they came to an abrupt meander in the river. It was here they spied jutting out of the earthy bank a bar which had accumulated the river’s flotsam. The company could see numerous bones amongst the detritus. No doubt the gruesome remains of the crone’s victims; casually discarded by her into the waters.
Grimly, they searched the macabre collection of what were human bones which clearly came from more than a single person. 
Amongst them they found sogged torn garments that matched the description given of Martin Morden’s clothes.
The unfortunate farmhand had met his demise at the hands of the crone.

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​The faintest haze of a rosy sunrise was beginning to permeate the horizon east of the river: A few hours and it would be noon and then, Everdene’s hanging would be performed.
With no time to waste, the company backtracked, returning upstream and into the underground rooms. From there they hauled the crone’s body up the steps into Farmer Gregory’s barn.
As is the way with farmers, Gregory was already up and attending his duties in the predawn, he was shocked to see the company lugging their evidence across his yard and into the town square

Soon, dawn had roused the folk of Millet Town, at the sight of the crone’s grisly remains they congregated in the square. In the growing morning sunlight, it seemed the crone might once have been human. Martin’s mother was among them and seeing that Martin was not among the company, the realisation crept on her that he was dead at the hands of the crone. Sobbing, she collapsed.

The townsfolk, now having learnt the crone was responsible for Martin’s end and perhaps other mysteries suffered by Millet Town shifted their swelling outrage on to Squire Rulf. It was he who had wanted to put the cause of all this on to Everdene. Wanting her hanged.
News quickly reached Rulf’s manor and he was forced to come and view the situation in person.
A murmuring discontent rippled through the gathered people as Rulf came into view, striding into the square. Upon seeing the evidence with his own eyes and also viewing the crowd’s mood, he begrudgingly acknowledged the innocence of Everdene and had her released forthwith before hastily retreating back to his manor.
“I knew it!” Madeline shouted emphatically from within the crowd.
Fortunately for Rulf, much of the town’s anger against him had dissipated.

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​Midday and the company found themselves settled into The Crossed Gates, feet pointed towards the crackling hearth and with drinks in hand when Everdene approached them. The weariness the company had noted in her voice yesterday was absent, replaced by an upbeat demeanour. Evedene had learned the role they’d played in her release, thanked them and asked if there was any way she could provide them assistance while also gifting them several potions.

Trefor spoke with Everdene at length, they exchanged words of esoteric knowledge as he sought her understanding of healing skills, looking for a cure for the Fisher King. None was forthcoming though, such a thing was beyond Everdene.

The return to Hykaria would have to wait a day, the company was exhausted, having not yet rested and took the opportunity to sleep a night in at the inn before venturing back on to the road.