Session 85
Under the Ruins of Othand
Under the Ruins of Othand
The battle erupted in chaos as Shank, his fury unbridled, charged one of the b’hrog zombies and delivered a devastating strike. The grotesque creature retaliated with eerie precision, seizing Shank in its monstrous arms. Undeterred, Shank managed two more brutal hits, but the b’hrog zombie unleashed a toxic slam, sending a wave of necrotic energy through the battlefield that poisoned Zahraan. Still restrained, Shank endured a savage assault of bone claws and strikes.
Shiv, seeing his brother's peril, let loose his own rage, his weapon striking true as he felled the b’hrog zombie clutching Shank. In a tactical flourish, Shiv executed a bait-and-switch maneuver to shield his brother, attacking a second b’hrog zombie. The hulking undead creature lunged to grapple Shiv but failed, shoving him back in frustration as a third b’hrog zombie emerged from the shadows.
The first b’hrog zombie, still standing, lashed out at Shank with its bone strikes. Zahraan, acting swiftly, cloaked the battlefield in magical darkness, confounding their undead foes before unleashing a relentless flurry of blows on the wounded monster. Meanwhile, the newly arrived zombie mimicked its brethren’s tactics, its toxic slam poisoning Fazanna before it turned its wrath upon Zahraan with a series of brutal attacks.
Fazanna retaliated, her green flame blade igniting the battlefield as her strike burned through the zombie and scorched its nearby ally. She drew a second blade but failed to land a follow-up attack. Safi, with an air of calm determination, summoned a radiant moonbeam that burned through the zombies. Anvar rushed to Zahraan’s aid, using his vitality boost to mend his wounds.
As the tide of battle shifted, Shank swung his great axe in a devastating arc, cleaving through one zombie before turning his wrath upon the next. Despite his prowess, he was grappled and restrained once again. Another b’hrog zombie emerged, its grotesque form writhing in Safi's moonbeam as it unleashed another toxic slam, poisoning both Safi and Shiv. The creature turned its focus to Shank, landing only a single blow despite its flurry of four strikes.
Safi, his moonbeam flickering out, turned his focus upward, casting detect defiler. His senses honed in on the source of the corruption—a defiler lurking above in the tower. As his celestial halo illuminated the fray, Zahraan struck the final blow, his flame blade slicing through the last b’hrog zombie with precision and ferocity. Silence fell over the battlefield, the group's victory hard-won but decisive.
Zahraan, still veiled in magical darkness, cautiously opened the door at the end of the hall. Beyond, a storeroom loomed, its shadowy recesses hiding two monstrous scorpions. Before he could react, one of the creatures struck with its venomous stinger, piercing Zahraan with a sharp, searing pain. Summoning his strength, Zahraan teleported to safety and allowed his magical darkness to dissipate, revealing the danger within.
Fazanna, undeterred, activated her graceful bladesong and darted into the room. A second stinger lashed out toward her, but with an artful flourish and her beloved performer’s reflexes, she narrowly evaded the deadly strike. Her green flame blade ignited the air as she danced through the fray, landing two precise and fiery hits.
From the hallway, Karnos leveled his blasting crystal with steady determination, sending a focused beam of energy that struck one of the scorpions with a crackling burst. Shiv followed, storming into the room with his maul at the ready. With a surge of psionic power, he activated his breaker of minds ability, the psychic shock stunning both scorpions. Gritting his teeth, he used his second wind to steel himself, regaining his strength for the battle ahead.
Then came Shank, a whirlwind of raw fury. Swinging his great axe in wild, devastating arcs, he unleashed a relentless assault. Each blow fell with unrelenting power, and in a storm of ferocious strikes, both scorpions were dispatched, their massive forms collapsing into the dust. The room fell silent, save for the warriors' heavy breaths, the threat vanquished by their combined might.
In the aftermath of the battle, the group turned their attention to mending wounds within the storeroom. Among the scattered debris, three sturdy chests beckoned. Though warded with magical traps, Shank's resilience proved unmatched as he smashed them open without harm. As they sorted through the contents, Safi's keen eyes discovered a hidden passage beneath the chests, its dark entrance leading deeper into the unknown.
A heated debate ensued—whether to ascend and confront the defiler above or seek safety below. Tensions flared as arguments clashed, but the sound of Black Sand Raiders gathering outside the tower cut their deliberations short. The ominous murmurs and shifting shadows heralded an overwhelming force. With grim resolve, they abandoned the notion of fighting their way out and descended into the depths, the weight of danger pressing heavily upon them.
Descending the shadowed stairwell, the group entered a large, oppressive chamber of dark stone. Black sand crunched underfoot, mingling with scattered rubbish and the faint scent of decay. The room stretched low and wide, its exits leading in all directions. To the east came the faint sound of scurrying and high-pitched squeaking. The stairwell door, newly constructed from stout mekillot bone and bound with iron, bore a strong iron lock. In stark contrast, the eastern and western doors, ancient and rotted, seemed ready to collapse, while the southern door, sheathed in green bronze, stood resilient despite its age.
The group’s curiosity led them first to the eastern passage. Beyond the creaking door lay a room choked with wreckage—tattered banners, broken masonry, and the desiccated remains of the long dead. Murals, faded by the march of centuries, hinted at forgotten tales but offered no answers. Undeterred, the group pressed on to another chamber of rough-hewn stone, where heaps of dirt, shattered furniture, and splintered weapons mingled with crude wall paintings depicting a mysterious, ancient procession. Despite their thorough search, the room yielded nothing of value.
Frustrated but determined, they retraced their steps and ventured west. Beyond the basement door, they found a wide corridor branching north and south, with a massive bronze-sheathed oak door standing ominously before them. Dire runes, etched into its surface, whispered of forgotten evils. Shank pushed open the ancient door, revealing a grim chamber beyond. Rows of stone benches faced a sinister altar, its slab of dark stone flanked by ruined bronze braziers. Nightmarish carvings of eldritch horrors adorned the walls, their grotesque forms seemingly alive in the flickering shadows.
Thick dust blanketed the room, untouched by time or intruders. With cautious curiosity, Shank examined the altar and uncovered a hidden compartment. As he opened it, a dagger sprang forth, narrowly missing him. The drawer, however, was empty—a silent, mocking relic of an evil long past. The room’s oppressive air seemed to press down on them as they regrouped, uncertain what further horrors awaited.
The group ventured south down the branching corridor, where the ruins of an ancient wooden door clung precariously to its bronze hinges. Within the room, the soft sound of splashing water broke the oppressive silence. Against the western wall stood a stone fountain, its basin four feet in diameter and waist-high. A grotesque statue loomed above it, trickling dark water from its gaping maw into the pool below. The air was heavy with the faint scent of decay, and the dust on the floor bore the unmistakable signs of dragging tracks.
Curiosity got the better of Cursy, Shank’s coal drake companion. The loyal beast approached the fountain and took a drink, only to recoil in distress—the water was poisoned. Unshaken by the grim discovery, the group chose to retreat and explore the northern passage instead.
Off to the side, they stumbled into a rough-hewn chamber, its floor strewn with bones of every description. Many were shattered and bore the marks of gnawing teeth, their ages ranging from ancient, crumbling dust to the unsettling sheen of fresh remains. Despite the room's grim atmosphere, it held no treasures or answers, only the quiet whispers of past violence.
Further north, they encountered a small chamber dominated by a dark well shaft, its diameter ten feet across. Faded murals clung to the walls, their peeling paint obscuring whatever stories they once told. The faint reflection of torchlight glimmered on water far below, hinting at a vast underground lake. As Safi approached the well to investigate, a sudden horror erupted from the depths—a cistern fiend. The monstrous creature lashed out with venomous tentacles, striking Safi and ensnaring him in its grotesque, tooth-filled maw.
The fiend began dragging Safi toward the watery abyss, but the druid’s quick thinking saved him. With a burst of magical energy, Safi teleported to the well’s rim, clinging desperately before teleporting again to safety beyond the fiend’s reach. Faced with the nightmarish creature, the group chose survival over confrontation, fleeing the chamber as the beast’s malevolent presence loomed behind them.
The group entered a crude, foreboding chamber lined with rows of stone crypts. The air reeked of decay, and the incessant scratching and chattering of unseen rats echoed ominously. The oppressive silence was broken by the groan of ancient doors creaking open, followed by the chilling moans of undead rising from their tombs.
Shiv acted first, using his tactical skill to bait and switch with Safi, moving quickly to one of the crypt doors and slamming it shut, trapping the skeletal horrors within. Meanwhile, Anvar approached another crypt, flung open its door, and unleashed a fiery blast of burning hands, incinerating four skeletons in a flash of magical heat.
Safi darted to another crypt, his hand glowing with radiant energy as he cast sacred flame, illuminating the darkness and searing the undead within. Zahraan followed close behind, charging into another crypt and dispatching two more skeletons with deadly precision.
Shank’s wild fury led him into a crypt, where his great axe tore through all four skeletons within, his blows shattering bones with every strike. Fazanna, ever graceful in the chaos, moved to a distant crypt and wielded her dual blades—one aflame with her green flame blade spell—scoring multiple strikes against the emerging undead.
The skeletons swarmed from the crypts, their relentless attacks managing only minor scrapes against the group. Anvar repositioned himself and unleashed a devastating psionic stomp, obliterating three more of the undead in a single blow.
Shank’s axe continued its rampage, cutting down three more, while Zahraan’s flame blade and flurry of blows carved through four additional foes. Fazanna’s elegant bladework dispatched yet another group, her fiery strikes illuminating the grim chamber.
Shiv, releasing the door he had held shut, charged forward with his maul, smashing three skeletons into splinters. One managed to strike him, but Shiv retaliated with a crushing blow, destroying it utterly. Fueled by rage, he pressed on, annihilating four more.
As the last skeleton staggered forward, Safi’s sacred flame descended from above, consuming it in radiant fire and leaving the crypt silent once more. The group stood among the ruins of their foes, the air still heavy with the stench of death but now eerily quiet.
The group ventured down a northern passage, emerging into a stale, suffocating chamber that reeked of decay but offered no immediate threat of poison. Dust coated every surface, and the faint remnants of faded banners adorned the walls, their fabric slowly disintegrating as fresh air seeped into the room. Along the walls, racks of ancient weapons stood as silent sentinels, remnants of a long-forgotten armory.
Their search unearthed relics of varying usefulness: a bundle of 40 steel-headed arrows with unusable shafts, six bronze-headed spears whose wooden shafts had rotted, a metal-reinforced target shield, two steel open-faced helms, over a dozen ruined crossbows, two steel-headed halberds with decayed shafts, and six rusted iron short swords. Each artifact told a story of the room’s lost purpose and its descent into ruin.
At the far end of the armory stood a rusty iron plate door, foreboding and unyielding. A sunburst symbol and ancient glyphs marked its surface, whispering of old magic and dire warnings. Fazanna approached, her curiosity outweighing caution, and her inspection triggered a sudden burst of arcane energy—a glyph of warding sprung to life, striking her with its force.
Despite their best efforts, the door refused to yield, as though held fast by an ancient and unrelenting power. Frustrated but undeterred, the group resolved to find another path, doubling back to seek a way to approach the door from the other side.
The group entered another crypt chamber, its forlorn emptiness stark and unnerving. Unlike the others, this room bore no ancient remains; the vaults had been plundered long ago, leaving behind only desecrated stone. The iron-bound wooden door leading to another area was etched with ancient, unreadable script, a silent testament to forgotten knowledge. The chamber’s rough-hewn stone walls suggested it had been carved hastily, an afterthought in the greater design of the complex.
Three twisting passageways extended into the shadows, each inviting exploration. Choosing the northwest path, the adventurers discovered a large, sturdy chamber of ancient construction, seemingly a long-abandoned basement. Dust and decay were its only occupants, with splintered racks that once cradled arms and armor now reduced to debris. In one corner, a staircase ascended toward a riveted iron door, its purpose obscured by time.
Fazanna summoned her arcane eye to peer up, revealing Shank. The rbarbarian had dislodged a trapdoor above, which nearly crushed him before he tumbled down several flights of stairs. The space beyond was a rubble-strewn ruin, impenetrable and lifeless.
Undeterred, the group maneuvered to the other side of the armory door they had encountered earlier, only to find it equally unyielding. Frustrated yet determined, they opted for a northern passage off the crypt chamber. It led to a dead end, forcing them once again to retrace their steps, the labyrinth’s oppressive design toying with their resolve.
The group advanced down a narrow passage that reeked of decay, the air thick with a stench that clawed at their senses. The tunnel, more burrowed than carved, suddenly gave way to a chamber of dressed stone, its floor cluttered with ancient corpses in tattered burial garments. Amidst the mummified remains, dog-like humanoid creatures crouched, their glowing eyes filled with ravenous hunger. With guttural howls, they attacked.
Safi was the first to face their fury, narrowly avoiding a snapping bite but suffering a slashing claw. Shank, undeterred, sent Cursy into the fray, though the coal drake was quickly overwhelmed by another ghast that clawed and infected him with a foul disease. Shiv charged in next, enduring a flurry of clawed strikes before retaliating with his maul, smashing two of the creatures into lifeless heaps.
Zahraan moved with martial precision, dodging the ghasts’ frenzied attacks and countering with a relentless flurry of blows. Fazanna, assessing the battlefield, darted to the far corner of the room in a blur of speed. With a flourish, she unleashed a fireball, engulfing several of the undead in flames.
Amid the chaos, Anvar rushed to Cursy’s side, administering a cure to the coal drake’s disease with swift expertise. Safi called upon sacred flame to strike at the creatures while pressing forward, his divine light searing the abominations. As the last ghast staggered, Fazanna’s toll the dead spell echoed through the chamber, reducing the final foe to dust.
The chamber fell silent, save for the group’s labored breathing, as they stood victorious amid the ruins of their adversaries.
The group retraced their steps to the basement area, passing through another crypt chamber. The room was a testament to decay, its rough and uneven floor pocked with grime and strewn with the remnants of long-forgotten tombs. The rotted doors of small crypts hung askew, revealing their foul and ancient contents. The air, thick and stale, seemed to hold its breath until the sound of rustling movement shattered the silence. The dead stirred, mindless and relentless, rising to attack.
Zahraan was the first to act, darting into one of the crypts with the precision of a predator. His flame blade ignited the gloom as he dispatched three skeletons in quick succession. Fazanna followed, charging another crypt. Her green flame blade flickered with arcane energy as she slashed through three more. Shiv, with his maul held high, entered yet another crypt, his brutal strikes smashing three skeletons into fragments.
Safi invoked sacred flame, the radiant light searing through one of the undead, while Shank charged forward to confront another. His great axe struck three times, yet the foe remained standing. To his horror, Shank realized his enemy was no ordinary skeleton but a juju zombie, its foul resilience defying his might. Shank called for Cursy, his loyal coal drake, as the horde surged forward.
Skeletons and juju zombies swarmed the party, their sheer numbers threatening to overwhelm. Fazanna, undeterred, unleashed burning hands within a crypt, reducing three of the undead to ash. She emerged from the fray, casting fireball with a surge of power, the explosion annihilating a swath of enemies. Safi’s sacred flame finished off the resilient juju zombie, its grotesque form collapsing under divine light.
Fueled by rage, Shank’s great axe became a whirlwind of destruction. He cleaved through four foes, his strikes leaving only broken remains. With the horde diminished, the party rallied together, their combined might finishing off the final skeleton.
As silence fell once more, the group searched the grim chamber. Among the remains, they discovered an ancient key, its intricate design bearing an uncanny resemblance to the bronze door in the basement they had previously been unable to open. A spark of hope and resolve reignited as they prepared to press forward.
Suspicious of the danger lurking behind the door, the group took a moment to heal before venturing into the next chamber. The vast hall stretched before them, its double row of pillars marching down the length of the room, supporting a ceiling 20 feet overhead. The walls seemed to stretch endlessly to either side, the sheer size of the space oppressive. At the far end, an imposing throne stood beneath flickering torchlight, but before the group could approach, a horrific spectral figure rose from it, its hollow eyes fixed on them. "Destroy them!" it hissed, pointing an ethereal finger.
From the shadows of the pillars, eight gaunt figures clad in ancient bronze armor emerged, their eyes burning with a cold, unnatural flame. The battle erupted instantly. Safi was the first to strike, unleashing a blinding sunbeam that cut through four of the undead with perfect precision. A juju zombie lunged at Safi, slamming into him with brutal force. Fazanna, swift and fierce, cast fireball, incinerating four of the juju zombies and the spectral figure on the throne. Another juju zombie slammed into Safi, its blow landing with deadly force.
Zahraan, ever the tactician, used his step of the wind to propel Shiv and Shank forward, bringing them to the throne and the spectral figure. He attempted to strike with his flame blade, but it passed harmlessly through the raiig, the ghostly entity seemingly unaffected. Desperate, Zahraan tried to grapple it, but his hands passed through it as if it were smoke. The raiig retaliated with a deathly touch, draining Zahraan’s strength, and it did the same to Shank, weakening him as well.
Shiv, ever the opportunist, baited and switched with Shank, preparing for the next assault. As he raged, the raiig teleported away, and Shiv turned his fury on a nearby zombie, slaying it with a series of brutal strikes and a mental crush. Another juju zombie landed a critical hit on Safi, while Shank, in a berserker rage, cleaved through another zombie with devastating force. The undead surged forward, slamming into Zahraan and Karnos, but the group pressed on.
Karnos, using his blasting crystal, struck a juju zombie, and Anvar healed Safi with a blessing from the tree. The raiig reappeared but teleported again before Shank could strike. The group fought on, Zahraan landing a critical hit with a javelin of lightning, but the raiig retaliated with another death touch, draining Zahraan’s strength and knocking him unconscious.
Safi, using his nomadic step, evaded the zombies and struck again with his sunbeam, while Fazanna cast disintegrate at the raiig, though her spell failed. Karnos transformed into a kirre, tearing through a juju zombie before he was struck by the undead. Anvar, undeterred, used a healing potion on Zahraan and revived him with revivify, but Zahraan remained weak, still unable to fight effectively. Karnos, in kirre form, was struck twice by a zombie’s slam. Shiv’s maul found its mark, killing another juju zombie, and Karnos engaged the remaining zombies with ferocity, but the battle raged on.
With Zahraan revived, the group pressed on. Safi cast greater restoration on Zahraan, bringing his strength back, while Shank, invigorated by haste, charged the raiig once more, but the elusive foe continued to teleport away. The group searched the room, each prepared for the raiig’s return. When it did, they unleashed a flurry of attacks, but the spectral figure evaded them once more. However, Safi’s thorn whip caught the raiig as it tried to flee, the weapon’s barbed tendrils wrapping around it and pulling the spirit into its death, finally ending the threat. The room fell silent, the battle over, as the heroes stood victorious but weary from the brutal encounter.
The secret door creaked open, revealing a chamber of breathtaking design. The walls were adorned with beautifully finished stone, yet the room was eerily barren, save for four alcoves, each housing a dark idol from an ancient and forgotten age. At the far end, a fifth alcove held the body of an ancient priest, lying upon a bier of dark stone, untouched by time. The air in the chamber was thick and dank, carrying an unsettling stillness.
Shiv, drawn to the gleaming golden pectoral adorning the priest’s form, carefully removed it, his fingers brushing against the cold, lifeless body. As he did, Safi’s sharp gaze fell upon the priest’s face. A chill ran down his spine as he realized the horrifying truth—the body resembled the raiig they had just slain. The implications of the discovery settled over them like a shroud, and the air in the chamber seemed to grow heavier still.
Fazanna’s sharp eyes scoured the walls, and with a triumphant glint, she found the hidden door. Behind it lay a rough chamber, carved from the living rock, its unfinished edges stark against the weight of time. The room was cluttered with relics of a forgotten age—ancient banners, faded coats of arms, weapons of rusted glory, weathered furniture, and chests brimming with treasures long untouched. Branching tunnels led off into the shadows, offering paths unknown.
As the Black Sand Raiders drew near, their presence heavy in the air, the party quickly gathered what they could, hastily stuffing the loot into bags. Tension thickened as the sound of footsteps echoed, signaling their imminent arrival. With no time to lose, they made a frantic retreat, leaving the chamber’s secrets behind, but the weight of their discovery lingering like a shadow over their escape.