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Act 1: Where Does Darkness Stir From?
In the first act of Return to the Tomb of Horrors the party investigates the cause of the increased undead sightings and attacks upon towns to
the south. They are directed by a sage to seek a man called Desatysso, who dwelt in mountains. Along the way they investigate a couple towns
that came under attack by undead and they meet one of the surviving members of the last expedition to the Tomb of Horrors. Upon returning to
Batrimuir they meet the other remaining original adventurer who survived, who is willing to show them the way south to the Tomb of Horrors.
Each of the following journal entries reflects a different character's point of view.
Mordun 24, 12883
Whilst enjoying a drink in a tavern near the lake front of Batrimuir we had gathered together, adventurers each of us, and all curious about the source of this dark evil that has descended upon the land. I myself had been witness to the risen dead that walked the land to the south and now, recovered from my roadside fight against them, it was time to gather a band of heroes together to cleanse the lands and restore light to the hearts of these beaten people. Around our table that evening there sat four others, and myself. Each traveled and guided together by the hand of Lathidus. A mysterious and oddly tall man with strange ebon skin sat nearby with his cloak wrapped tightly about him and his hood pulled low. Another, a chatty fellow with straw colored hair and worn clothes sat with us too. A flirt with the ladies, one might think him a laggard with the sword he so casually wore, were it not for my battle trained eyes that saw the warriors control of his movements I might have thought the same. He sat across and chatted to an attractive elfin lady. Straw headed Tomas' words seemed to simply melt away before they reached her for all his banter earned was a distracted nod here or there as she watched the tavern crowd. She called herself Ratanna, though I'd say she's several names in her history. The warrior she traveled with sat next to her. He, a handsome human named Drake, shared the light conversation Tomas offered, but his eyes watched the tavern room warily.
While we spoke of the evil that shadowed the lands, our attentions were drawn to a large fellow loudly and drunkenly bidding his friends a good night. He went to the door of the tavern and as he opened it I could see that the fog had come in oddly heavy this evening. Moments after he disappeared into the white shrouds of mist we heard a terrible scream, begging the Lord of Light for help, and then a ripping and retching, followed by silence. Patrons stood shocked and stared at the open bar door, but I and the other four leapt forth and ran outside.
By the true vision granted by my God, my sight pierced the mists and revealed our foe. Rotted flesh and the smell of undeath was all I needed to see. I brought judgement to the walking dead with my swift blade of Truth. Before their rotted brains could work their bodies against us we had slain each and every one.
Upon one of the corpses, Tomas chanced to notice a tattoo upon the wights corpse, "Payvin's Pearl." Looking up and down the lakeside warfes, we found no other signs of the undead that evening and so we parted to our separate hostels.
Mordun 25, 12883
The night is too short, so I best get some rest soon. I'll quickly write what happened here today first. This morning we met the holy warrior, Azraphel, as well as that comely elf lass, her guard, and the cloaked tall one. We gathered back at Khale's do to some asking about the tattoo I found last night. He mentioned a fellow, Payvin, who's been drinking himself silly at the Master of the Pier Tavern ever since his whole crew deserted his barge. Well, we went over there to this Master of the Pier place, which was pretty rough looking. A squat tower with a couple guards at the bottom to keep out the likes of holy boy. As for me and the elf gal, we went up and had ourselves a chat with Payvin while Azraphel waited outside.
He told us this tale o' how he had returned to his barge one foggy evening to find his crew all gone - more interesting though was tale of these red eyes floating in the dark that found him while he stood on his barge. It spoke to him of ending his life (no real loss if you ask me) and mentioned the name of, "The Devourer" and how it was gonna eat his soul. I guess he jumped in the water and escaped away from it.
Black and Tall (he says his name's Elvarin) told us he knew of a sagely fellow in town with whom he had long ago had some kinda dealings, by the name of Ahren. So we went over to his place, which seemed nice enough. His gardner (wife?) was kinda odd and he was rather brusk and businesslike. I didn't think it worth it, but we paid him a good chunk of coin to have him do some research on the name. Elvarin says that it's Ahren's specialty. Spent the rest of the day sparing with Drake, he's a good chap and more than skilled at sword work.
Mordun 29, 12883
The human was able to tell us enough only to wet our curiosity more. He gave us a rendering of the "Sign of the Devourer." Typical demon fair. He also mentioned a contract of paper detailing how all eventually is funneled to a place called the "Plane of Negative Energy." On the same paper he found the following as well:
"And when the Devourer is truly one with the Final Void, all knowledge will be his, and he shall be like unto a god."
Lastly, he gave us the name of Desatysso. A powerful wizard who lives in the mountains to the south of here and whom, Ahren says, possesses a great wealth of knowledge regarding the Devourer. We obtained directions to the place, but I am not expecting much. Human's are not known to have prodigious life spans, and it has been two decades since Ahren has seen Desatysso.
Drake is willing, my curiosity is taken, and so tomorrow we will mount an expedition to the Mountains of Glory, so seek out this Desatysso.
Ilyun 2, 12883
Been on the road for neigh three days now. Nothing much to say. Passed by an ancient barrow mound this afternoon. Thought I could hear the sound of someone making music on pan-pipes in the distance as we went by - not nearly as fine as I myself could play them. ha!
Ilyun 4, 12883
The warriors had their fill this afternoon when we were beset upon by Wyverns. I am reminded as to how my master would have dispatched with such creatures with inventive flair. Perhaps someday I too will possess the knowledge he had. Perhaps he would know something of this odd time that I travel through. The others stand my company well enough, though I can't help but think of how they are less than ashes in the age I am to be born in. Perhaps I shall read of myself in the history books of some future time. Were it not for the odd malignancy in the time stream I would surely walk forth to some future or past and see what there is to learn of this Devourer.
Ilyun 5, 12883
Elvaryn is dead! I can hardly believe it. He was the black skinned, tall, and quiet one. We rarely spoke, but still, a companion, and now he's dead. As we progressed deeper into the mountains today we came to a unsteady scree that we would need to climb. We were but halfway up when giants appeared to either side, high above, and began raining stones upon us. I was rather badly wounded, but the holy warrior, Azraphel, has healed my broken bones with but a word of his god. Even his god though could do nothing for Elvaryn, who was smashed betwixt two boulders while flying through the air. By the time we had climbed the scree to his body and felled the giants he had already passed on. Tomas and my Lady Rattana have been in quiet conversation all evening. Tomas says we need someone of Elvaryn's skill in magic and that he is going to cast a spell that will bring someone who knew him to us, to replace him. Azraphel seems like he can hardly wait to make a pyre and burn the body of our companion.
Ilyun 6, 12883
I do not know what magic that rascal Tomas concocted last night, yet, as we waited today a man named Sevnal came to us, responding to Tomas's strange summonings that he and Rattana made last night. This one is an elf, claiming to be an ancient friend of Elvaryn's, with whom the deceased lived for a great many years. As repayment for a debt owed to Elvaryn, this Sevnal will take his place with us. Tomas and Rattana eagerly gave Sevnal all of Elvaryn's equipment. Drake, like myself, seems to have reservations about this strange man. True, like Elvaryn he prefers to remain heavily cloaked and out of the sun. What does this man have to hide from the Light? Time shall tell.
We continued on today, leaving Elvaryn's body aflame in a suitable pyre. May the gods deal with him justly.
We are now at Desatysso's ruined keep. It must be his for as we explored the ruins we found signs of magic and even did battle with a mighty elemental of fire. Giants made their lair high above the ruins and have dropped boulders on the keep, leaving nothing unsmashed. We fought a few of them in the lower courtyard and I saw finally the extent of Rattana's power when lightning shot from her eyes and she slew two of the beasts where they stood. Tomas found a small silver key in the ruins. We were unable to find out what it belongs to.
In the ruins we found a tunnel that wound up to the upper lair of the giants. We knew we were not done with them when an enormous boulder came crashing down the great hallway. It was all we could do to get out of the way, and even then we suffered some harm. We are wounded and must rest before we assault their cliff side fortress tomorrow. We must know what the giants have stolen from Desatysso's ruins and gain a clue about the Devourer.
Ilyun 7, 12883
Using Azraphel's Horn of Food we gave the giants a terrific feast. In return, they let us take a look at a battered desk. I have little hope for it's contents for it looks to have been tossed about a great deal and perhaps dropped from the cliff side several times. The giants we rather surprised when I opened it with that key I found yesterday. I had a hunch. Within we found a huge mess, but again, my instincts saved the day and in a secret compartment I found some fragments of a journal penned by Desatysso himself. I'll record their contents here for safekeeping.
"...finally ready for this challenge. I've had enough of weighing the risks against the potential rewards; knowledge will be reward enough, one hopes. With the Amulet in my possession, I should be able to push through the final veil and confront the Devourer in his true incarnation. Of course , I'll need help with this; to go alone would be nothing more than suicide. I guess that it will be Falon T'selvin of Batrimuir and his bold company that I shall go to for assistance. Falon has never let me down, and I know that he will be as eager as I am to finally breach..."
A pity there wasn't more. I guess it's back to Batrimuir to look for this Falon fellow. I've been wanting a good drink and some song for nearly a week now.
Ilyun 11, 12883
We returned the way we came, passing in silence by the place where my former self had been slain. It happened so quick and the memory already is fading. I can only guess at what magic brought me back from the dead and bestowed me this new body. It suits well enough though and perhaps will serve even better since an elves lifespan is so much greater than even a Silothreni's. With each passing day I further confuse what I learned in my past life as something I've learned in this one. My mind seems to be systematically converting and piecing together a lifetime of memories for this new body and soon I fear I shall not have a proper recollection of who I was as Elvaryn, and indeed then there shall be nothing left but Sevnal and a his pseudo fictitious history. What would my master say? In time, will I even know who I have named myself for? Such thoughts trouble me.
Today, as we journeyed back to Batrimuir, we passed again by the barrow mound that Tomas said he heard music coming from. Today, we all heard it, ghostly in the wind. Azraphel insisted that we investigate and help whatever restless soul was making the erie music, reach its final grave.
A quick disintegration spell opened up the top of the mound and revealed a stairway descending into the ground. Before we could go far though we were beset upon by the hounds of hell. Beasts with no hide but burning muscle covering their bones, that breathed flame upon us. It was a tricky fight there on the steps as we could not flee upwards, each of us with a companion behind us and in the way, and so we fought, two abreast, while I and Rattana (who's skills are impressive) lent assistance from a distance with magic. At the bottom was a short hallway whose sides were lined with alcoves. In one we found a set of pan-pipes, just as Tomas said he had heard, but no sign of their ghostly musician. Azraphel did some kind of magic and quickly insisted that we destroy the pipes. Tomas was rather unhappy about that and refused to let Azraphel come near him until Rattana had identified the items with a powerful divining that I had not seen before. She is just full of tricks. Once we knew of the pain that breathing into the pipes would afflict upon us, Azraphel quickly smashed them apart with his blade.
Ilyun 13, 12883
We arrived in Batrimuir today. The stink of unwashed humans is again what I must live with. Good thing that Drake bathes often enough. Ahren was again helpful and returned to us with answers for our questions regarding Falon T'selvin. Apparently he was the leader of an adventuring band that traveled with a mysterious mage (Desatysso?) on an expedition that ended in disaster. Two companions survived, returning with Falon to this city, where he never left from again. We traveled to Elmwood Lane, said to be where Falon's place was, but all we found there was a graveyard and a man, Grunther, who stood weeping at Falon's grave.
"Falon T'selvin./Strong of Hand, Quick in Mind, and Fair of Face/Such Availed Him Not in the Screaming Place." read his effigy.
Grunther is apparently an old friend of Falon's. He remembered Desatysso and says he knows the way to where the group had traveled long ago with that mage. He also mentioned a woman named Sather, whom he said knows a great deal more about the evil they found in a "place of smelly mud." While not articulate, it was interesting to note that Grunther did recognize the Face of the Devourer, which caused him to shudder at it's sight and comment, "the black mouth." Perhaps Grunther himself has seen the Devourer, he is missing one of his arms. Still, he is a larger man than either of the warriors in our band.
Tomorrow, Grunther and the rest of us will travel to Maertrimor, where we hope to find Sather - someone who can shed a bit of light on our adventure, as Azraphel took care to point out. I wonder if he was trying to make a joke? Drake and I will both be happy to leave this town behind once more.
Ilyun 15, 12883
Wicked stories will I write of my experiences had by this adventure. Our party is again one less, but there will be no bringing back the dead this time. Would that there was still a soul to bring back. We made camp on the roadside, as we have become accustomed to, Sevnal creating a magical shelter for us to sleep comfortably within. Tonight was an evil night though. Drawn outside by the appearance of undead that scratched at the walls of our shelter, Azraphel left into the dark of night with his shining blade, bidding us await his return while he dispatched of the simple undead that walked the roads without.
While he was away though a wicked being entered within our safe haven. It was transparent and burned with a blue light. It's arms were grotesque and far longer than anything natural and it's howling face screamed eternal torment to us. Nothing but shreds could be seen of it beneath it's waist. It extended one of it's arms out and with a touch, Drake fell to the ground, slain instantly, and a blue flame leapt higher within the creatures chest. We battled the creature until Azraphel returned, each blow causing the blue flame within to shrink in size. When it was gone, the creature fled, dispersing to the four winds. Drakes body fell in upon itself, his flesh having taken a waxy, ashen pallor. Rattana is stricken with grief, though she tries hard to hide it.
Ilyun 16, 12883
He is gone. Today we set afire to his cairn and buried his ashes beneath a pile of stones so that no undead will disturb his rest. I carry some of his wares, keepsakes for myself, but they cannot come close to replacing the friend that I have lost. I'll have my revenge upon this spirit, I swear! Today we found more signs of it's passing. A wagon caravan pulled into a tight circle with undead slain and strewn about, and both the once living and the dead undead, gnawed upon and eaten by the hoards of undead that overwhelmed these pilgrims. We must, must put a stop to the evil that is raising these creatures. It is not right for the common folk to suffer so. Two wraiths hiding within the wagons we slew without mercy, doing nothing to quench my hatred for the thing that slew Drake. We continued south.
Ilyun 19, 12883
We came upon the town of Molnar, or what it once was. Nothing holy or good finds rest there now and all the innocents have fled or
been slain. There were curiously few dead bodies to commit to the flame, though there were abundant signs of conflict. So we had little
to do but continue our travels towards Maertrimor where we hope to find Sather. Before we left the town we found further evidence of
evil deeds. In a barn we found a vile summoning circle and later, upon the side of a building we saw another one of those Devourer signs.
Ilyun 22nd, 12883
Today we arrived in Maertrimor, but I'll have no opportunity to earn coin with song here. On the road in we met wretched commoners
who warned us away from town with tales of plague. The paladin seems sure that he can protect us from any disease, and he spent no
little amount of time healing the sick who are abandoning Maertrimor. Grunther led us directly to Sather's home, but the crazy hag was of
little help. She was obviously distraught when we mentioned the sign of the Devourer. She told us of the disastrous adventure her
companions took to the Tomb, led there by the wizard Desatysso. Apparently, everyone was slain but her and Grunther, yet Desatysso
pushed on and abandoned them to seek the true tomb of Acererak. The "sign" seems to belong to this Acererak being, who Sather
claims is a powerful undead called a demilich. Perhaps the most useful thing she gave us was Desatysso's journal, which may prove useful.
I'm sure I can embellish on her tale, write a song or two, and maybe make a few coins if we can find a town that's not crawling with
undead! Sevnal will return us with his magic to Batrimuir where we hope to learn some more from Ahrens, the sage.
Tarmare 7, 12883
It is a pleasure to travel with companions who take the time to do research and consult with the learned. This age is becoming more
interesting than I suspected it would be. We learned much from Ahrens and a week ago we traveled south again from Batrimuir and hope
to find the Tomb of Horrors, the resting place of the demilich Acererak. What ancient knowledge, curious relics, and fascinating magic
might we encounter in such an exotic locale?
We have doubled the size of our party. During the past month Azraphel and Tomas recruited four new
adventurers to join us in our quest. Gwendolyn is particularly beautiful and we have already had several interesting discussions of magic. Xian,
a Haruninki warrior, is the first I have met of his kind. I wonder if they are all so resolutely lawful and honor bound. He fights like the great
martial warriors of the Thelen Age to the north, with a flurry of fists. There's another called Yeule, who possesses fascinating powers of the mind,
quite a rare gift. I am lucky to meet such unique individuals in this time. Finally, there is Guei, an elfin warrioress who would be tempting if not for
her passion for battle... yet I must admit that I look forward to getting to know her better. I feel much safer with such skilled companions at our
side.
Not all of our travels have been pleasant. Today we passed by the grave of Drake, Rattana's man-at-arms. She
still grieves, a natural response, and I wonder - will I grieve to travel from this time and return to my own where even the descendants
of these adventurers are forgotten dust. I suppose I can always return to their lives at some later point in the timestream, once this
strange darkness that clouds it has been dealt with.
So, my reason for writing... tonight we again encountered the creature that slew Drake. While we stayed the
night at a roadside farmhouse it came and devoured the soul of one of our hosts. We chased it away, but this time we came prepared for
such a meeting and we chased it to an old sepulcher, deep in the woods. There we battled the creature, using the instruments we had
collected to pin its soul to this world where it could be slain and laid to a final rest. It was a dangerous battle, but we proved able
to the task. Azraphel is glad that we have destroyed a powerful evil that terrorized this area, but I predict that we will face far
greater dangers in the time to come. We will stop once more in Maertrimor to consult Sather before traveling into the jungle basin
in search of the tomb.
Tarmare 14, 12883
At last we stand at the edge of the great cliffs that surround the Great Basin of the Ki'Kiri Jungles. Before us are thickly forested
swamps. The humidity reminds me of Hana, but the air is warmer here. Still, the fires of Lathidus keep me protected from fatigue. Soon
we will face our enemy. Though Sather pleaded us to not go this way, I have made a vow that no maze of traps will stop my sword from
ending the evil called Acererak.
Tarmare 23, 12883
Is this really the middle of Winter? We have wandered through sweaty jungles without sighting civilization for weeks until today. There
were times I thought Grunther was lost, but the more we travel the more driven he seems. Not nearly as much as Azraphel, who has been
becoming impatient to stick his sword into Acererak. Every time he tires he feels compelled to laud us forward with parables of Lathidus
and holy this and that. I too have a grudge to settle against this master of the undead being which slew noble Drake.
Today we finally came to where the Tomb is. There are problems though. A city has been built around it and
its population seems to worship "the Devourer" and consist mostly of necromancers and undead. Were we without such companions as
Azraphel we could probably travel the streets without too much worry... but somehow I just know that he will fail to restrain himself
while surrounded by such evil men and creatures before we can find the entrance of the Tomb. Tomorrow we'll find out... I'm not holding
my breath.
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