Chapter 5

In which the party finishes what they started and learns the value of occasionally indulging in a little intense pickle

After a moment Frelik popped back to his feet, panting and frantically scanning his surroundings as though still looking for a fight.  Luckily his brain managed to override his barbarian instincts just long enough for him to realize that the violence was ended.  Valeria tried to explain what had just happened to the confused barbarian as Davros went back across the pit to investigate the lab.

Magpie glanced at their new prisoner and cawed with dismay.  Attention drawn, Valeria frowned at the woman’s less than healthy skin tone and called back over her shoulder, “Oh Davros, you may want to come have a look at this, she looks like she may be your type.”

Even from across the chasm Davros blanched, “Her skin is about the colour of dead.”

The woman made no response, standing quietly in the corner.  Davros approached and pushed back her hood.  Her skin was, as they feared, rotting and putrid, what hair she had hung lank and lifeless around her face.  She wears much makeup – more than Yuri cares for on his women – and enough perfume to choke on, but she is clearly no longer living.  Yuri shuts his eyes against the hideous sight of this once-beautiful woman now rotted but still standing.

“Who are you?”  Valeria asked softly.

“My name is Esme Verisi.  I was… sick and Svilennius offered to help me.  He says he tried to help me but before he could succeed I died so he brought me back.”

“Oh?” Valeria cocked her head, “And do you believe that?”

“Look.” She says, throwing her hood back to reveal the full extent of her decay, “Of course I’ve died, he was working on something to help reverse this.”

“The death? Or the rotting?” Valeria asked, snide as ever.

“At least the rotting.” She retorted.

Keen to help the woman, Davros searched the Alchemist’s corpse and the lab, uncovering multiple wondrous items as well as all kinds of useful tools and a magic spear.

A few people claimed items they thought might be useful and Davros secreted away the rest.

Magpie turned to the woman, “How long have you been down in this forsaken crypt?”

“It is hard to say exactly,” Esme frowned, not a flattering expression on someone whose face was rotting, “It’s been about a week since I came to.  Svillenius thought he could bring me back, but failed several times.  So I do not know how long I’d been unconscious.”

“Who were you before?” Valeria asked, “Well, who are you still, I guess.”

“I was studying magic in Korvosa when I caught a wasting disease and turned to Necromancy to try and cure myself.  I came here to consult with the Necromancers of the Ankar-Te district, but I soon realized had neither the time nor the money to get this cured.  That was when I met Svilennius, who was eager to try and help me… I think the poor fool was in love with me.”

“He was.” Valeria nodded.  “Was Svilennius an evil person by nature or did he simply go insane trying to create undead things?”

“Having semi-succeeded with me he tried the experiment on others, trying to perfect it and see if he could find a way to stop the rotting and bring someone back to life.”

“So why did he attack us the moment we entered the room?” Valeria demanded.

“Actually, I believe you shot first.” Akura pointed out.

Esme ignored him, “He was jittery.  He was expecting the Pharasmans to come down and evict him at any moment.  He was a former cleric of their church, now in exile and was always paranoid that someone was going to come down and get us. I imagine you startled him.”

The party stared at her in mingled confusion and awareness.

She tried to explain, “He believed that using alchemy to revive the dead was less blasphemous than using negative energy, so had been working on a way to revive the dead that way.  His efforts got him cast out of the church of Pharasma as a heretic.”

Davros, shaking his head sadly as he flipped through Svilennius’ notes, sighed, “It looks like he wasn’t even close to reversing your condition Esme, I’m sorry, you’re going to rot out.”

She seemed sad and resigned, but not overly surprised by the news.

“We can’t leave you here.” Davros continued gently, “But if you like we can either show you a hole in the wall by which you can escape, or we can take you up to the church of Pharasma to see if there’s any way they can help you – or put you out of your misery as quickly and cleanly as possible.”

“If you’re willing to turn a blind eye,” the woman replied, “I will certainly take my chances in the city.”

“There’s a tunnel.”  Davros nodded, “Though we can’t guarantee where it leads.  I won’t begrudge a soul a chance for survival.”

With a rotted smile the woman nodded and thanked the group before disappearing off the way Davros indicated.

Satisfied that she was safely away, and indeed going the direction he told her, Davros returned to rifling through Svilennius’ lab, pocketing anything that looked useful or valuable.

As Davros had finished his ‘shopping’ trip, Frelik flapped his left arm around saying, “Ah, guys, I don’t think my arm’s supposed to bend this way.”

Without a glance Davros tossed him a vial from his pouch and they headed back into the maze of tunnels to double-check any doors they’d missed - in the interests of being thorough, of course, and not just seeking more loot.

The first room they entered contained a strange statue which, although it was clearly made of stone, glowed with a golden-green iridescence.

“That’s a statue of the Peacock Spirit – a deity of mind, body and soul.” Davros muttered.  Yuri tossed him an irritated glance, wondering if this encyclopaedia impression thing was going to become a regular occurrence.

In the base of the statue Davros noticed what looked like a small door.  Cautiously he reached out and popped the hatch open.  Inside lay a single green feather which Davros secreted away for later.

Carrying on around through the halls proved rather uneventful and they soon found themselves back at the statue of Lissala.

Valeria, ever obsessed with loot, reached up to pull what looked like a feather out of the statue’s hand.  There was a single, blinding flash of light and Valeria swayed once on her feet before shaking it off and tucking the feather away.

Returning to the embalming chambers they’d first explored, they rang the chime the priestess had given them, coaxing open the one door which had been magically sealed against them.  The room, which they realized belatedly must have been dedicated to envy, was empty save for some simple, rough-hewn furniture.  The group shared a pretty strong sense of foolishness.

After some squabbling, the group finally agreed to a watch order and bedded down to rest again, regaining their strength for whatever lay ahead.

A good eight hour rest later, the group once again re-evaluated what else they needed to accomplish in these catacombs before heading back up to the surface.  After a brief - and fierce - debate all but Frelik decide that they feel duty bound to clear the undead creatures from the room of the runelords (one of which had already soundly trounced them once before Yuri refrained from mentioning).

They began with the crypt of wrath again, pride still stinging from their previous defeat at his hands Yuri suspects. 

Magpie threw open the door and began making a speech into the hole, attempting to draw the creature out as the rest of them (except for Frelik who stood in the back, face-palming) stood ready for whatever came through the door.

“Once again you dare disturb my wrath?!?!” A familiar voice shouted, “Come in and face me.”

“No!” the group shouted in unison, “You come out!”

“I will not.”  The creature replied, “I can wait you out!”

“That’s not very wrathful.”  Frelik muttered.

“I cannot leave this crypt!”  It retorted.

Whipping out a wand which he maintained could do nasty things to anything undead, Magpie positioned himself to fire it off as he asked, “Why not?”

“Honour binds me to defend it!”  The thing replied.

When no one else had a good reply to that, Valeria let out a long-suffering sigh and stepped forward, firing her pistol into the darkness.

As the ball clatters into the creature’s armour he shouts, “Aha!  At last, a worthy challenge!”  He belts Valeria with his ranseur and finishes with a dire warning of, “Flee mortals!”

Magpie responds with a vicious flash from the wand in his hand which leaves a small, smoking hole in the skeleton’s chest.  When he raised the wand the second time the creature scored a hit on Magpie, though he still managed to get another searing shot off before retreating a step.

With a harsh cry Akura leapt forward, fist swinging.  And missed.  Davros elected to applaud sarcastically instead of helping – at least until Akura’s dirty look silenced him.  With another swing, pointed gaze still fixed on Davros, the monk put a fist through the skeleton’s torso and severed its spine.  It dropped to the ground, lifeless. 

After a careful study of the tiny room the guardian had occupied they discovered a secret door, behind which were buried the bejewelled corpses of some of wrath’s wealthier devotees.

The next door, that of lust, has no guardian behind it.  Instead there is only  a grouping of bodies who are remarkably well-preserved given their age – though the wonder of their preservation are overshadowed by the lewd and graphic positions of the bodies.

Picking through the pornographic tableau, Frelik managed to extricate quite a lot of jewellery to add to the party’s coffers.  He kept one necklace, which he held out to Valeria with an evil grin, “Here, I got this one for you.”

Disgust written on her face, Valeria took the thing in a handkerchief muttering, “Thanks…” before tucking it away.

The next room, Sloth, is much like lust’s except with the obvious omission of the lewdly positioned bodies.  In the centre of this room is a mound of something, in the weak light it looks like either a squat stalagmite or a mound of greasy fat.  As the group cautiously approached the thing it stirred, rising and shifting into a greasy, humanoid figure.  It lunged forward, one of its claw-like appendages catching Davros in the chest.

“Stupid lemure!” Davros muttered, firing his crossbow at the thing’s face, doing only minor damage.

Following suit, Valeria cracked a shot off at it, but the bullet only sinks into the fatty body, not appearing to do any damage.

Running past Davros on his way towards the creature Frelik snatched the ranseur they’d collected from the wrath room off the half-orc’s back and swung it at the creature with a savage cry.  With a sweeping, slashing cut the barbarian sliced the devil in two, as it crumbles and sizzles away into nothing, leaving an empty room.

Up next was gluttony - apparently one of the barbarian’s favourites.  Inside they found a pair of humanoid creatures, their skin hanging off their bones in huge folds, like bodies that had once been tremendously fat but were now emaciated and wasted away.  They growled, maws opening to reveal glistening, ghoulish fangs.

Ever quick to react, Valeria is the first to move, firing a shot into one of the creatures which blew a small chunk off it.

Wielding a wand over his head as Frelik gets too engrossed in his own display of prowess to swing, Magpie fired a blast of energy at the creature in the rear which fizzled and did nothing.

Making an unhappy noise in the back of his throat, Akura leapt forward, sinking a fist into the near creature and handily finishing it off.

“Duck!” Valeria shouted at Frelik.

The barbarian obeyed without question and Valeria’s glowing bullet struck the second ghoul right between the eyes, splattering its brains all over the opposite wall.

This room is even less treasure filled than the others.

The next door, pride, revealed a long corridor of polished wood with plush red carpet and alcoves stuffed with bodies wrapped in pristine white linens.  In the distance, the light music of chimes can be heard.  The hall is pleasantly warm and surprisingly not dank given that it’s a crypt.  Magpie shook his head, “Ugh… so much illusion.”

Frelik stepped through the opening first.  Which was likely a poor choice.  As soon as he crossed the threshold a flash of colours engulfed him and he dropped to the ground, unconscious.

A skeletal figure detached itself from the opposite wall, dripping blood on the red carpet as it approached the prone figure of the barbarian.

“Ew.” Akura muttered, moving warily into the hallway.

With a grunt Davros hurled a bomb over the monk’s shoulder which exploded into a blast of flames and vines which wrapped themselves around the thing’s bony ankles.  The damage from the fire, however initially effective it seemed, was apparently not worth much as the creature hadn’t started putting itself back together almost immediately.

With a hiss, covering the monk in blood and spit, the creature swung at him – and missed.

The monk responded with a fist, knocking the creature’s head off and causing the thing to collapse.  Much to everyone’s dismay, the body had already started re-assembling itself when Magpie shouted, “Stay down!” laying a cure spell on the thing which finally got it to stop moving.

In one of the alcoves of this room they found two vials and some more riches, but very little else.

After a few minutes the barbarian popped back to his feet, swaying a bit as he frowned, “Was I unconscious again just now? And why can’t I see?”

“Give it a minute.”  Someone muttered as they guided him to the next room.

The next room, envy, is eerily cold; tiny ice crystals riming every surface.  On the far wall was a brownish mold.

“That’s brown mold.” Magpie muttered, “It feeds on heat – particularly warm bodies.  We could kill it with cold, but fire will just make everything terrible.”

Carefully shutting the door on it, they resolve to bring it to the attention of Pharasma’s clerics and leave it at that.

The crypt of greed is a dusty, alcoved room.  There is definitely the glitter of gold, taunting the party in by the light of their torches.

Frelik, voluntold to explore the room first, steps in only to be struck in the shoulder with a glaive on a pivot which swung down from the ceiling to surprise him.  With a muttered curse, he drove a spike into the slit, preventing the blade from coming out again.  The worst part was, all the jewellery in the room was fake; gold-plated costume jewellery worth only about fifty gold pieces all told.

Done with the rooms, the group moved on to the final set of double doors; the only ones in the room they hadn’t opened yet.  Beyond was yet another tunnel, sloping down deeper into the earth.

They instead chose to follow the hole that went up; the one they suspected the Tengu from earlier had entered by and the one they’d sent the undead Esme out through.  It wandered up, down and twisted this way and that.  In the distance they thought they could see light so they kept on going.  Soon they emerged into fresh air, only to discover they were standing in the mouth of one of the other faces of Kaer Maga’s walls - nine-hundred and fifty feet in the air up a thousand foot sheer cliff.

Unwilling to scale the cliff as a way to get back into the city, the group agrees that pursuing any of the downward routes would likely be unwise and agrees to return to the Godsmouth Cathedral to report their findings and their success.

First trying the secret knock the priestess had taught them – to no avail – they rang their trusty chime again and stepped back through the door, allowing the heavy door to close and seal behind them.

It was early evening in the ossuary and all was quiet, Pharasman priests preferring to do the bulk of their work at night.

They worked their way back up through the labrynthine levels of the Ossuary until they found a low-ranking acolyte who recognized them, greeting them with a relieved cry, “Oh!  The cryptmistress will want to see you at once!”

He led them back to the tiny chapel they’d met in three days prior where they were soon attended by Valanthe Nerissia herself.

“So, I assume you succeeded?”

“Minus some mold?  Yes.”  Davros muttered.

“We discovered who was stealing the bodies,”  Magpie squawked, overriding the general hubbub of voices as everyone tried to deliver their own version of their adventures all at once.

“I believe you may know of him?”  Davros added mildly, “He was an alchemist named Svilennius.”

“Ah.  Svilennius.  Yes, he was one of our brotherhood – before his heresies.”

“Well, he never really stopped with the heresy.” Valeria added snidely.

“Very well.  And you’ve secured that level of the ossuary?”

“Yes.” Davros replied, “With the exception of three passages which we’ll detail for you later.”

“And behind the statues of the Runelords,”  Magpie added, “In the crypt of envy there is a brown mould in need of killing.”

“We didn’t have the tools to defeat it.” Akura added apologetically.

Valanthe nodded sagely.  “Very well.  We’ll have to send a group down to verify that you have indeed cleared the level of course, not that I do not believe you, but you know how it goes…”

The party nodded with understanding.

“Oh. On a more positive note.” Magpie added, “We found these holy symbols and vestments of Pharasma down there.”

Offering them the money for discovering Svelenius up front as a sign of good faith, she explains that the rest of their payment will have to wait until she has confirmation of their success and offers to pay for the vestments, holy symbols and accoutrements as an added reward for their hard work.

After equitably dividing all their ill-gotten gains between the six of them the group parts ways to take an evening off for themselves, agreeing to re-convene in the morning and discuss what to do next.  Given what a successful team they now made, they were eager to embark on more ah, business ventures together.

Chapter 4

In which the party learns about mercy

Following a very productive rest, during which Frelik actually seemed to get more attractive, the group re-instated some light sources and sallied forth, progressing from their camp down the hall towards a pair of double doors.   The doors were massive and bore the sigil of the seven pointed star, which the group could easily recognise as the symbol of the Runelords of old.  It was disappointingly locked.

Akura and Frelik threw their shoulders into the door a few times, to no avail.  After much pounding against the doors, Frelik stepped back, announcing, “My shoulder is sore, outrageous!” 

They agreed to move on and try the doors at the end of the corridor behind them.  These doors opened freely into a mostly round room which contained nothing more than a deep pit surrounded by a broad ledge.  Valeria moved to the edge and dropped a rock down the opening, listening for the impact.  It was very deep. 

On the wall opposite where they stood was another door which they passed through with caution.  Upon opening the door they were greeted by an entertaining array of scents; a carnival of blood, bones and rotting flesh.  Yuri noted the sloppily drawn runes on the wall, they were done in something that looked suspiciously like dried blood.  The gnome’s nose wrinkled, “I hear something scrabbling and scratching in the darkness beyond.“

Cautiously, Frelik advanced, holding a light-source aloft, illuminating a pair of part-dog part-human creatures of ghoulish appearance.

Davros piped up, “Beware these creatures, they are festrogs, if you strike them with slashing or piercing weapons they emit a spray of disease-ridden fluid, do not let yourselves get hit by it.”

Akura pushed to the front, “I’ve got this.” He blustered, swinging at one of the creatures with his fist.  In retaliation, both creatures advanced, one sinking its teeth into the monk’s flesh.  The monk retched one and swayed on his feet, skin graying.

Seeming to ignore the half-orc’s advice, the barbarian swung his scimitar in a mighty arc at one of the creatures, slicing it cleanly in half.  As a spray of vile black goo flew at him he turned his head at the last moment, narrowly avoiding a fate similar to the monk’s.  This was followed closely by a softly cursing Davros pushing his way through the knot of people surrounding the remaining creature, swinging his Morningstar with hesitation in an attempt not to cause the spray.  He failed, taking a jet of viscous good straight to the face with a groan.

Olivine managed to strike at it with her spear, sending yet another spray in Davros’ direction.  With a growl, the monk kicked the creature once in the chest, spun and struck the creature in the head, knocking the head clean off to smash against a wall.

But before the party could celebrate their victory something resembling a snake made entirely of bone reared up behind Magpie.  Yuri yelped and jumped back as the bird man cawed, whirling to swipe at the creature with his katana in a slashing streak.  He scored a solid hit, but the bone only creature merely shrugged it off.  Frelik’s swing missed narrowly as Davros’ bomb bounced off his shoulder, splashing the creature with alchemical fire.

With a sigh and roll of her eyes, Valeria popped a round into her chamber, levelled and fired, blasting the creature’s head to dust.  She turned, beaming, “Did you see that?  I ass-ploded that bone snake!”

Davros frowned down at the floor, at the odd rune carved there, “This bears a strange resemblance to the destination of a teleport rune.”  He muttered, “How odd.  Why would anyone want to teleport here?”

When no one had an answer to that, they decided to follow the new corridor they’d found back towards the chambers they’d already explored.  As they moved down the hallway something white and bone-like appeared in the distant gloom.  As they neared they could make out that it was a group of skeletal archers.  Akura wasted not a moment in bellowing with rage and charging forward, though Yuri could not see if his strike connected – until the barbarian came up beside him and doubled over with a groan, receiving a monkish elbow to the groin for his trouble.

Davros, through his tears of mirth, hurled a bomb but missed, his creation landing behind the back skeletons, the flaming burst putting down the back two.

The remaining skeletons swung at Frelik and Akura, injuring both – Akura apparently seriously. 

“Don’t worry!” Magpie called, “I’m right behind you Akura, kick it!”

The monk, in spite of his weakness, listened but unfortunately missed with his attack, falling unconscious for his trouble.

Frelik roared and inserted his blade into the creature’s neck bones, popping its head off and sending it ricocheting off the walls around the corridor.  Davros sped in, stepping onto the monk and swinging his Morningstar, crushing the final skeleton’s skull with a mighty crunch.

Once the danger was passed Magpie stepped forward, hands glowing as he reached out towards the monk’s wounds, which disappeared beneath his touch.

Skeletons defeated, the group pushed through into a room surrounded with heavy black curtains.  There was one door in the wall opposite where they entered and another hidden behind the drapery.  Valeria peered at the door behind the drape, “Well, it looks good.” She said, shrugging.  The party stared at her, she stared back, “Well, I’m not going first.”

Sighing, Frelik pushed past her and shoved the door open.  An arrow flew from a concealed slot in the wall, embedding itself in the man’s shoulder as the door fell open.  Frelik grunted, snapping off the arrow and complaining loudly about how much it hurt being shot by arrows – Yuri couldn’t help but notice that most of his complaining seemed to be directed at Valeria.

The purpose of the small stone room beyond was lost to the mists of time, but it was not empty.  Two shambling creatures, one skeletal, one more substantial lumbered out of the shadows.  After a rousing round of misses on behalf of Frelik and the creatures, Davros hurled a bomb into the room, flame splishing onto both creatures.

Leaning her hands around the doorframe, Olivine let loose a splash of viscous green acid, sizzling into the neck flesh of the zombie-like creature.  Taking advantage of the weakened flesh, Akura delivered a spinning kick to the creature’s cheek.  The head bounced across the floor and up, seeming to leap up into Magpie’s rucksack.  Yuri blinked in disbelief, had he really just seen -?

Magpie squawked, reaching into his sack and hunting around, clearly chasing after the head – which was clearly evading his grasp.  Finally grabbing a handful of its hair, he yanked it out of the bag and hurled it towards the corner.  It almost seemed to scurry away from him, laughing as it went.

Equally creeped out by that, the entire party elected to move on.   The next room was long and full of alchemical equipment; glass, tubes and wires.  Three large vats line one wall, each filled with a rotting, bloated corpse suspended in green goo with tubes and wires coming out of them.  A hunched figure was darting to and fro, tweaking and managing the various bits of alchemical equipment.  As the group entered the room, the man turned to face them with a hiss.

With a cry Valeria cracked off a shot, which bounced off the wall.

Akura followed, hands held up before him, “Who are you and what are you doing here!?” he demanded.  Yuri rolled his eyes.  Young pups; no good with the softer skills.  He could’ve told the monk a more subtle approach was necessary when dealing with someone as unstable as this.

The man shrieked, “Mr. Marrow!  Kill them!”

A large bloated creature burst forth from one of the glass vials, goo dripping from its limbs.  It lumbered forward, swinging at the monk.  Yuri leapt back, grateful he hadn’t been voted to speak for the party.

As the monk scurried backwards out of combat, Davros did something which managed to truly baffle Yuri – he quaffed a potion and shrank suddenly to half of his size.

Valeria hurled her vial of holy water at the bloated creature, but the tiny glass vial went wide, wasting itself on the floor.

Path before it clear, the zombie ambled forward – straight into a blast of flame from Olivine’s hands.  Frelik managed to knick the creature’s kneecap just enough to distract it and cause its roundhouse punch to go wide. 

The humanoid figure yelled, “Mr. Marrow, minion!  What are you dawdling for!?  Kill them!”  and quaffed a potion which the plague doctor identified as a potion to assist with his ranged attacks.

Olivine raised her hands once again and hurled another blast of flame at the two creatures who were truly beginning to show their damage.  Frelik took advantage of the opportunity to step up and swing his scimitar, halving the fat zombie across the midriff, top half falling over to gush rainbow coloured fluids all over the floor.  Davros hurled a bomb with a grunt, its burst of flame putting a quick end to the second creature.

Both zombies dispatched, Magpie strutted into the room, facing off against the alchemist and decreeing, “If you know what is good for you, you will cease and desist immediately.”

The alchemist merely laughed, hurling a bomb which exploded in a burst of frost, surprising the group as the man fled down the corridor opposite where the group had entered.

Without a thought Frelik took off down the hall after him, skidding on a patch of fluid and broken glass at the last moment, his scimitar swing going wide as a result.  Davros, miffed by encountering a fellow alchemist, hurled another bomb at him which hit him squarely in the chest, exploding in a burst of flame that nearly hurled him off the ledge.  After tottering briefly the man regained his balance with a sneer, shouting, “Pharasma take you!”

Valeria’s bullet once again went wide, failing to knock the man into the pit he balanced on the edge of.

Retreating further, the alchemist ran over the pile of body parts the party recognized from earlier as the pile from which they had fought a handful of animated hands, shouting, “To me my love!  Save me from these interlopers!”

Three figures appeared around him, clearly not friendly.

Frelik launched himself over the gap, swinging his scimitar wildly at the alchemist – and missing horribly.  And not only did he miss, he now found himself alone on the other side of the gap with the enemy.  Not knowing what else to do, Magpie cast a spell which gave the sound of charging warriors next to the barbarian. 

Valeria reloaded her pistol and called to Frelik, “I’m sorry!  I tried!”

One of the zombies swung, punching the barbarian in the chest.  The big man weezed once and collapsed, which opened up a line for the evil alchemist to hurl a cold bomb at the people on the other side of the bridge.

Olivine, not knowing what else to do stepped forward, attempting to hit one of the zombies with a ranged attack, only to miss.  Leaning around the corner with a cry, Davros tossed a bomb dead into the centre of the group.  Flame leapt up to engulf the four enemies, obliterating the two zombies and singeing the alchemist and his beloved.

Levelling her pistol on her forearm, she squinted one eye and fired, sniping the alchemist between the eyes.  He went down in a heap of robes as the woman screamed, “No!  Svilennius!”

Dashing forward, the woman held out her hands, flame belching out in a cone-like shape to engulf the group.

“Oh no you don’t!” Olivine shrieked, stepping up next to Akura and raising her own hands in turn, “That’s my spell!”  The woman attempted to roll with the attack and failed, taking a full singeing.

Inspired by the gnome’s attack, Davros leaned out and threw another incendiary bomb, further burning the distraught woman.

Popping a glowing bullet into the chamber of her gun and fired, hitting the woman in the shoulder.

With that hit, the woman dropped her weapons, begging, “No, please don’t hurt me!”

After a moment’s hesitation amongst the group, Davros stepped forward, “We accept your surrender.”

Chapter 3 Part II

In which the group encounters many strange wonders and narrowly avoids death by many  strange swarms

Valeria and the half-orc found only a wand of disrupt undead and seven silver holy symbols of Pharasma behind the goddess’ door and very little else.  While Valeria felt that clearing the undead out of this holy place dedicated to Pharasma, who is against the undead, the rest of the group agreed that they could always come back to this place at a later date... for now they had other monsters to slay.

They headed for the doors on the opposite of the room.  The doors opened easily.  Beyond was a staircase which led to a landing.  Above it they could just see a shaft or hallway which crossed perpendicular to the staircase at the ceiling roughly twenty feet above.  The floor of the landing is mounded with various rotting body parts, air pungent with the smell of rot and chemicals.  Beyond the pile of refuse another hallway extended on the group’s level to junction with another passage that ran perpendicular to this hallway.

Magipe’s hands glowed briefly and he clacked his beak, clearly agitated as he pointed at the pile of rancid flesh, “There is something moving in there!”  he squawked.

Drawing their weapons, the party moved cautiously towards the pile.  Yuri hung back, wisely staying a few steps above the ground as a small swarm of dismembered hands popped loose and started crawling towards the stairs.

While many members of the party shivered in disgust, Akura leapt forward, stomping and kicking at one of the hands.  His stomp managed to break two fingers, but his kick flew wide as he slipped in a puddle of good and landed on his rump.

Frelik, meanwhile, preferring a more arm’s length approach, withdrew his vial of precious holy water and hurled it at the floor admist the creatures.  The one Akura had stomped exploded in a flurry of gore as a splash of the liquid contacted it.  The other two, struck by some of the water, hissed but continued to advance. 

A heartbeat later things became much, much worse as the two remaining creatures bent their fingers and launched themselves into the air, flying at the monk and the barbarian.  Clawing at Frelik’s  throat in an attempt to strangle him.  Luckily the barbarian was stronger and hurled the thing back to the ground.

With a shriek Valeria drew her scimitar and stepped forward, slicing the unfortunate creatures to ribbons.

Akura pulled himself back to his feet, brushing gore and bits of flesh from his clothing as he muttered, “Well that was creepy.”

Poking at the pile with his toe, Magpie bent, pulling a golden ring set with an emerald off of one of the non-animated hands and proceeding to eat the hand.

Returning to the main room with Pharasma’s spiral inlaid in the floor, curious about the upper level they’d glimpsed from the landing, Frelik nimbly scaled the pitted wall to the bridge only to discover that the twenty-five feet of rope he’d brought with him was utterly inadequate to assist anyone else in following him – and he’d forgotten to bring a light source with him.  Foolish barbarian had apparently been too cheap to purchase a full fifty feet of rope and too foolish to think to grab one of the multiple light sources in the party prior to his climb.

“It’s dark up here!” The barbarian called down.

Davros chuckled, calling up, “Why not light your twenty five feet of rope on fire?  It’s not useful for anything else!”

With a long-suffering sigh, Akura tucked his sunrod into his belt, threw his own fifty feet of rope over one shoulder and scaled the wall in the same place the barbarian had managed, providing light on top of the bridge.  With Frelik’s help they threw the Monk’s fifty feet of rough, hempen rope over the side.

Apparently bored, Magpie wandered past the body part-strewn landing, away from the rest of the party.  As Olivine, the last one left on the ground, was scaling up the rope the bird-man bolted back into the main room and started climbing the rope as well, somehow managing to look pale and shaken and mumbling something about the sounds of flesh being torn.

Once everyone was safely on the bridge, they moved to the southern set of bronze doors, pushing them open.  They reveal a long corridor lined with alcoves filled with dust and decaying bodies wrapped in yellowing linen.   At the far end stood two more bronze doors radiating strong sealing magic.

Davros frowned and pushed his way into the room, carefully searching the bodies as they crumbled to dust in his hands.  With a cry he leapt back, clutching his bleeding hand as several of the skulls in the tombs leapt into motion, sprouting legs and advancing towards the group.  “Skull spiders!” Davros shrieked, withdrawing a weapon even as another skull spider leapt up, clamping on to bite him in the forearm.

With a girlish shriek the monk batted one to the floor, kicking it like a soccer ball to explode it against the opposite wall as he punched a second one into jelly with skull bits.

Frelik and Valeria, caught off-guard by the sudden appearance of many tiny foes, both missed wildly with their swings.  The final spider managed to climb up Davros’ leg, making it as far as his junk before the monk managed to punch it into a fine spidery mist as well.

Realizing that they already seen what lay on the other side of the sealed bronze doors, the group turned around and headed back across the bridge to the north.

Opening the door they find a large room decorated with images of priests handing down judgements onto the devout.  There are two stone benches, which are the only furniture.  From the rear of the group Yuri heard a loud groan go up from all those who could see into the room.  Then he heard the sound that had made them groan:  the hideous flapping of leathery bat-like wings which had once been ears on the head that hovered at the top of the room for a moment before descending on the party. 

“Bat-head!” Akura cried, “Undead bat-head actually!”  With an inarticulate yell, the monk charged into the room, swinging his fist at the creature, aiming for its cheekbone.  It attempted to bite him, but could find no purchase.

Spurred by Akura’s battle cry, Frelik’s maniacal laughter dissolved into his own cry as he drew his scimitar and charged the creature as well.  He missed.

Magpie whipped a wand out of his belt and blasted a sticky green mass at the creature, doing enough damage to knock some flesh off of its cheek to expose more of the creature’s hideous teeth.  Never one to mess around, Davros hurled one of his bombs to land just beneath the creature.  It burst in a fiery plume, singeing the creature and finally stilling its infernal flapping.

Without the undead bat-head danger, Magpie examined the images on the walls, noting that they are all scenes of Pharasman priests in antiquated robes.

They move to the door at the far end of the room, listening carefully for the sounds of flesh rending Magpie had heard.  They heard nothing.  Frelik attempted to open it, it was stuck so he threw a shoulder into it.  It opened in a shower of dust and splinters revealing another, smaller chamber with more wall carvings, a pedestal and single bowl.

A tiny man leapt out of the shadows, swinging a dagger at Frelik and only narrowly missing him.  Frelik’s return swing also narrowly missed the half-shadowed creature.

Before anyone else could think to act, Magpie cawed, “It’s a Dark-creeper!  Try talking to it!”

Attempting to take the creature without killing it, Akura darted around and delivered a solid wallop to the back of its head.  The Dark creeper staggered for a moment, but shook off the blow and continued to attack.

Davros attempted to yell at the creature to cease and desist, but it didn’t seem to understand him, while Magpie’s attempt at communication was slightly more successful, getting its attention and convincing it to drop its dagger.

The group relaxed and Yuri could sense a definite air of relief that they hadn’t had to kill the thing.  Magpie advanced as its dagger was confiscated, trying to communicate with it, trying every language he can think of.

Squinting into the light Magpie brought into the room, the creature shook its head, clearly not understanding.  Drinking a potion with the plague doctor handed him with the explanation that it would allow him to better understand the creature, Magpie signed, “What are you doing here?”

The creature shrugged, “Came looting.  In search of treasures for my masters below.”

“How did you get in here?”  Magpie asked.

“Enter.  Enter.  Enter!  From below.... Doorway.” The creature replied, gesturing down the hall behind the party.

Magpie made pickaxe gestures, “How did you get in?” He asked again.

“Doorway!”  The creature replied, indignant, “You no believe me?  You go look!”

Magpie made some gesture Yuri didn’t fully understand, obviously plumbing for more information.

“Falk had to run away from snake man,” the dark creeper replied, pointing to door behind him, then pointing ahead, “Flappy head.  Falk trapped.”

Magpie explained that the flappy head was dead and offered Davros up to bind the creature’s wound.

Once the wound was bound, Magpie asked who Falk’s masters were.  Falk just looked around nervously at the other members of the party. 

“Could you give us a minute, guys?” Magpie asked, sending the rest of them out of the room so he could converse with the creature in privacy.  As soon as the room was empty the creature called forth an unnatural darkness, bolting down the hall and past the rest of the group before anyone thought to stop him.  They let him go and focussed on searching the room, finding two scrolls of delay poison and a magical cloak of resistance plus one with endure elements. 

Frelik pulled on the cloak, stylish as it was with its fur-trimmed collar and pulled himself up, opening the door in an oddly normal way – considering how he normally opened doors.  Then it was time for the door.  Davros grinned as they approached the door, “Time to get me some new snake skin boots.”

Inside this room, the theme of judgement in the afterlife is continued in the wall carvings at the far end stood a single table, draped in a black cloth.  In the southwest corner burned a single candle in an iron candlestick.  Curled around the base of the candlestick was a snakelike creature with the head of a goblin. 

Davros stepped forward, no doubt frowning behind his mask, “Goblin, what are you doing here?”

“My name is Yrix, I am a mystic of the worm-folk.”  Otherwise known as Nagas.

“I don’t mean to question too closely, but you don’t look like any variety of Naga I know.”  Davros replied, muttering to the group that he suspected the creature was in fact a goblin snake.

“Oh?  And how many varieties of Naga have you met?”  The creature asked.

“Some?”  Davros shrugged.

“Several.”  Muttered Magpie.

“Enough to know you’re not one.”  Valeria sneered.

The creature switched languages, eyeing the woman, “We can continue in Taldane if you prefer, I speak your human tongue.”

Put on the spot, Valeria deflated, mumbling, “In.. In my experience Naga are bigger.”

“Yes, but my small size belies my great power of prophecy.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve met clans of worm-folk and your small size belies your words.”  Magpie snapped, “You are, in fact, a goblin snake.”

The creature didn’t seem to like that.  “You dare to question me?  Me who can draw back the veil of mystery that cloaks the godsmouth ossuary?  And reveal all the secrets of the ancients... for a price.”

“What is your price for these secrets?” Davros demanded.

Next to Yuri, Frelik snorted, clearly trying to contain his laughter at the ridiculous creature before them.

“For the low price of five gold per person, I can let you through this door.”  He gestured across the room.  Without thinking, the barbarian walked over to try the door.  The goblin-snake hissed.

Valeria drew her gun and aimed it at the creature, “Did you see this coming bitch?”

The rest of the party tensed, ready for the snake to pounce at the barbarian.

As Frelik’s hand touched the latch the creature launched at him, attempting to bite.  Valeria fired a shot, striking the creature solidly though she didn’t quite put it down.

It latched onto the barbarian anyway, biting him as he tried to shake it off, muttering “Ballsy little thing, isn’t it?”

“If you would like the antidote for your friend, you will cease hostilities immediately!”  the goblin head hissed as it disengaged.

Magpie snorted, attacking, “You lying little shit!” he yelled.

Akura stepped in next, round-house kicking it into the wall which it hit with a smack before sliding to the floor in a neat little coil.  A quick search of the room revealed a trove of treasures including a golden holy symbol of Pharasma and a phylactery of faithfulness hidden under the cloth-covered table.

Much to no one’s surprise, the door opened easily, revealing a dust-covered spiral staircase with a single, goblin-snake shaped track.  Davros picked up the dead goblin snake, wrapping it around his neck and beaming, “Now I gots me a nice scarf.”

As they walked back down the hall, Magpie turned to Davros, “So, I have to ask, what’s with the beak mask?  Is it an homage to my race?  Or are you making fun of me?  If you’re making fun of me I won’t be very happy.”

“Acutally,” Davros replied, taking on the air of a school teacher, “It’s more of a coincidence than anything.  It’s designed to prevent me from breathing in the miasma of plague.  That’s what I have this sandwich in here for.”

“Fair enough.”  Magpie replied, “It’s just been bothering me since I first saw it but I thought it would be impolite to ask – or touch,” he shot a glance at Valeria.

They turned to the door on their right, easily pushing the door open.  The room is round with curving walls polished to look as sleek and smooth as glass.  Valeria immediately pushed her way past Frelik to admire herself in the glass.  Even though the floor is flat, the optical illusion gives the impression that the room is spherical.  Yuri snorted; pretty, dumb and vain.  A real winner.

Valeria called, “Close the door and reopen it in five seconds.”

Five seconds passed and Frelik reopened the door, only Valeria was no longer in the room.  Soon after, a second door banged open and Valeria stormed out, “Why didn’t you guys open the door?”

Yuri frowned, something wasn’t quite right.  Valeria’s pistol was holstered on the wrong side, her scars seemed to have shifted sides, apparently she had been mirrored.

Frowning, Davros stepped forward, pushed Valeria back into the room and slammed the door in her face.  Five seconds later she re-emerged, once again oriented the right way, yelling a string of very unladylike curses at Davros as she threatened to hit Akura – who had the misfortune to be standing closer.

Leaving the odd, mirrored rooms behind, the group advanced to a junction in the tunnels, Valeria trailing along in the back with Yuri, muttering on and on about stupid monks and various other things.

“Umm.  Don’t you remember being left-handed moments ago?”  Akura asked her, whirling.

“What the fuck are you talking about, I’m right handed you dumb shit.” Valeria snapped, clearly bearing no awareness of what had happened to her.

The next set of double doors opened into a long room lit with glowing orbs of light, its walls covered with a chaotic mess of runes and sigils.  Tablets and statues sit in niches evenly spaced along the walls.

Magpie ventured forth into the room, glowing hand guiding him toward the three magical tablets and one section of magical runes within the room.  The tablets were clearly intended to be the equivalent of scrolls, bearing the distinct markings of certain spells.

Davros gaped, making a squeaking sound and pointing as a glowing stone rune detached itself from the wall and began hovering across towards the party, “Floating rune!” he stammered, “Hurt us!”

As it neared the group, gouts of flame began shooting out of the thing, singeing everyone at the front of the group.  Checking to make sure her powder store wasn’t on fire, Valeria reacted first, firing her pistol at the thing, breaking large chunks of it off.

Magpie studied it curiously, frowning, “That is the ancient Thassilonian rune of wrath.”

With a roll and flip, the monk got himself in behind it, pounding the remaining floating chunks into dust with his fist.  Danger averted, they take a moment to examine the room, noting that virtually surface was coated in old Thassilonian runes which covered topics ranging from everyday life to arcane spells.

Scouting out to double check where all the doors and hallways lead and which ones are viable means of escape the group decides to hunker down in the rune room, which is safe, defensible and has a few good means of escape if they must run screaming.  Finding only one suit of lacquered armour, chained to the hand of a formerly veiled skeleton.  A bastard sword and a pair of curved daggers are all that remain of the weaponry.

Greed overcoming their good sense, they reached for the handsome suit of armour.  Almost immediately hundreds of cockroaches flooded out of the suit from every available opening – and all over Davros. 

Screaming “Aah, cockroaches!” The monk hurled a vial of alchemist’s fire into the centre of the swarm.  It went up with a whoosh, taking a huge swath of the fiends with it.

With a caw Magpie snatched a pair as snacks, tucking them away for later as Valeria scouted down the hall to make sure their escape route was still clear.

With a roar Frelik simply began stomping, taking about a dozen down as Davros threw a bomb into the seething mass, growling, “I fucking hate cockroaches!”  As the bomb engulfed the swarm in flames the screams of a hundred baking cockroaches could be heard.

Satisfied that everything was safe, they bunked down for eight hours to rest, not knowing if it was night or not, given that they were trapped in perpetual darkness.

PS: Yuri would like to congratulate Davros on his well-turned sexual harassment, and would like to remind him that it will also count as his harassment for this day.

Chapter 3 Part I

In Which the Party Learns That Sometimes it is Best to Withdraw

In spite of the plague doctor’s best efforts, while he managed to stave off the barbarian’s coughing, there was something about the big man’s countenance that remained changed, almost as though he were less... magnetic.

Once Frelik was sufficiently recovered, the little group moved on to the next door.  It pushed open easily, revealing an empty room full of nothing but decimated furnishings and huge gashes marring the walls, carvings and floor.  Magpie’s hand glowed briefly as he waved it around the room and shook his head, saying, “There is nothing of value in here.  Let’s move on.”

Returning down the hallway, they paused at the impregnable door they’d bypassed earlier, debating whether or not to open it, and how to go about that...  Once again they came to the conclusion that opening that door would waste too much precious time when there were still other, potentially easier pickings to be had.  Yuri rolled his eyes and followed the party as they pressed on, wondering why they’d even bothered to stop at all.

With only one other option, they followed the remaining side corridor.  The first thing they noticed was that the walls of the hallway were not whole.  In one corner, the wall was breached; shovels and picks lying discarded in the rubble where it looked like the wall had been caved in from the outside.  Beyond the hole was a long tunnel which extended as far as the group could see and beyond.  They chose to explore that avenue after they finished with what lay within the walls of the worked stone corridor first.

They soon encountered a junction with a staircase which took them down a level to a landing where they found another short tunnel off to their left, ending in a pair of closed doors.  Ever unable to resist the temptation of a closed door, Magpie and the woman move down to listen at the doors before deeming it safe and hauling them open.

The doors opened into an enormous, cavernous chamber whose domed ceiling soared high above with no visible sign of support.  A ramp descended from the doors to land below a bridge which arched over their heads perpendicular to the doors they’d entered.  Yuri noted with some interest that the bridge ended on both sides in a pair of huge bronze doors.   In the centre of the room, at the bottom of a chasm which dropped another ten feet into the earth, the floor was decorated with an old version of Pharasma’s spiral pattern.  Multiple staircases led down into the chasm.  Around the room at even intervals stood eight enormous statues, easily eight to ten feet tall, seven of them were constructed of white stone and the eighth of black.

Each figure depicted a different man or woman holding a distinct weapon.  The black figure however, differed from this pattern.  This statue depicted a tall woman with three distinct faces: one smiling kindly and holding a baby, one looking more stern and wielding an hourglass and the third utterly crazed, hands empty with thornless roses climbing her arms.  Davros smiled as his gaze alighted on this statue, “Ah, hello Pharasma.”

Magpie and Valeria each approached one of the white stone statues, hands extended in mirror images of each other.  As they touched their respective statues there was a sharp crackling sound and two stereo shrieks as the two of them were rudely electrocuted.  Yuri chuckled.  Perhaps they should have looked before touching.

Much to everyone’s surprise, as the statues lit with sparks, the flickering light revealed doors hidden securely behind each of the statues.  Frelik, ever the curious one, carefully inspected the door behind one of the statues before pushing it gingerly open.  He and Valeria pushed into the narrow tunnel, plunging the main chamber into darkness.  With a beak snap and a sigh Magpie muttered something arcane sounding, light sprang back to life in the room.

Yuri peered down the hallway after the barbarian and the woman just in time to catch a glimpse of a burial room with one body standing upright before darkness fell in the little room, only two glowing blue eyes piercing it.  An armoured skeletal figure lowered its ranseur – which perfectly matched the one the statue in front of the door was holding – and Valeria growled, lifting the hand holding the torch up to her ear and accidentally setting her hair to smoldering as she fired off a single shot.

Other than a mild crunch of bone the creature didn’t seem to notice either the bullet or the barbarian’s clumsy swing, which clattered off its armour.  In a foolhardy move, Davros withdrew his vial of holy water and flung it at the creature.  He missed, hitting the wall next to it, but the water that did splash onto its bones hissed as it burned.

“Hey!  Don’t do that!” the creature whined, dropping its ranseur to the ground in disgust and swinging its bony claws at Frelik, “I am Aerdicon!  Bow to my wrath!”

Akura leaned around the other side of the opening, “You guys need any help?  Wait... Did that thing just talk?!?!”

Yuri rolled his eyes and smacked the monk upside the head.  He was not being terribly helpful.

Magpie sighed heavily and moved away to investigate the other statues as he muttered something about idiots shooting first instead of talking.

Another shot rang out from the tunnel and the barbarian swore heartily, “That nearly hit me!”

Valeria simply laughed, “Take it out on the creature, not me.”

After an ineffectual swing with his scimitar, which connected but didn’t do nearly as much damage as he’d hoped, Frelik dodged the retaliatory blow, ducking backwards down the hall.

Akura, finally deciding to be useful for a change, cried out, “No guts, no glory!” and tore down the tunnel, planting his foot square in the centre of the creature’s breastplate, making a reverberating gong sound as the creature snagged him with a claw, drawing four shallow, bloody gashes.

“Hey guys!”  Magpie squawked from his position two statues over, “I think these white statues are supposed to represent the seven Runelords of old Thassilon!  Way to pick the room of Wrath, guys.”

Realizing they were fighting a losing battle, the folks in the tunnel withdrew one by one, leaving the monk alone in the dark.  As he bolted out of the tunnel he shot an angry look at the rest of the group, “Thanks for leaving me in the dark, guys.”

Valeria laughed again as they waited, watching the door to see if the creature followed them. 

The creature’s voice drifted out of the tunnel, “And woe be on you if you disturb the crypt of wrath again... know that it is guarded!” with that dire warning, the door slammed itself shut with a hollow, ominous bang.

After much arguing and many sharp remarks from one to another the group agreed not to open any of the other runelord doors, however the lure of Pharasma’s own door is too great for Davros and Valeria to resist.  As the others backed off, doubt plain on their faces, the half-orc and the woman carefully examined the door before pushing it open.  The crypt beyond was filled mostly by dust and a few remnants of bone, when nothing seemed to be moving they ventured carefully inside.

Chapter 2

In which Yuri makes new friends and learns to compromise

Inside, the cathedral was dark.  So dark that Yuri had to pause just inside the door and wait for his eyes to adjust.  The door slammed shut on a violent blast of wind as though it had been pushed by the hand of Pharasma herself... surely she wasn’t angry with him too?

Around him there were several devotees praying peacefully in various pews but the cathedral was bustling, full of hooded acolytes and black-robed priestesses moving to and fro on their various tasks.

One particularly young acolyte passed close to him, darted him a glance from beneath her hood, screamed and fled.

Surprised, Yuri glanced down.  Anatalia’s scarf lay in a crumpled pile on the floor, apparently having been blown off by the gust of wind when the door closed.  Shrugging, he bent to retrieve it.

As he straightened, an imposing woman in the black and blood-red robes of a high priestess came sweeping up the aisle towards him, her icy blue eyes disapproving as she tossed a bundle of rough-hewn brown fabric at his chest.  He caught and unfurled it.  It was an acolyte’s robe. 

He looked at the woman in confusion.

“Put it on.”  She snapped, “We only help those who are decently covered.”

“I cannot.” He replied, “I have taken a vow of nudity – and I will not wear a dress.”

She smiled, “Then we cannot help you and I must ask you to leave.”

Panic pierced Yuri’s gut, if he could not garner the help of these mumbling priests he would be cursed forever to roam the world, unable to indulge in the pleasures of a woman.  That would not do.  “Very well.”  He conceded regally, “I shall dress and then I shall return.”

***

Several hours of haggling later Yuri returned to the temple clothed only in a plain brown leather vest and the simple, rough-hewn pants of a peasant, Anatalia’s scarf wound around his waist as a belt to hold up his whip.  It did not take him long to find the woman who had thrown him out earlier.  She stood in the main aisle, deep in conversation with a hooded stranger. 

As he approached them they glanced at him and Yuri was surprised to see that the stranger’s face was, in fact, that of a bird.  His cloak’s hood was drawn low over his face, but Yuri could still see that his black feathers had a blue-green sheen and his eyes small, black and bird-like.  A strange white streak in his feathers led from his eye down below the collar of his dusty travelling clothes.

“I have returned.”  Yuri said majestically, “And I would like some help with my... ahem, problem.”

The priestess glanced at the stranger, who nodded and moved off, following a faceless, hand-wringing acolyte through a small side door.

“What is your problem, supplicant?” She asked coolly.

Yuri shifted uncomfortably, “I have been cursed by a cleric of Pharasma for reasons I would rather not go into... it has left me, Yuri the Magnificent, pleaser of countless women, no longer able to... rise to the occasion.”

The priestess looked him up and down, “I see.  I believe we can help you however our services are not free.  First you will help us.  Agreed?”

Yuri nodded, “Anything to cure myself of this vile curse.”

“Good.” She grinned, “Follow me then.” She swept through a small side door without looking back.

The stranger from earlier sat in the room beyond, ensconced in a chair at one corner of a large table, his hood drawn low, beady black eyes watching the door with guarded interest.

Yuri seated himself on the opposite side of the table, “I am Yuri the Magnificent.” He said, “What may I call you?”

The stranger clacked his beak once and said in a raspy, squawking voice, “Magpie.”

They sat in silence.

Soon a tall man dressed in the style of a renaissance plague doctor was ushered in by another acolyte.  Every visible inch of his green-tinted half-orcish skin was pock-marked and soaked in mysterious, swirling tattoos.  At the belt of his dark red and green robes hung a strange, hook-nosed mask which Magpie eyed with obvious disapproval and mild offense.

A few moments later, at precisely one minute to midnight an exotic-looking, honey-skinned man strolled into the room, waving a haughty hand to dismiss the acolyte who could not seem to stop staring at the mark of Pharasma burned into the flesh of his bare shoulder.  His head was bald on top, but a short black beard grew on his face.  He was dressed in the flowing clothes that Osiriani merchants seemed to favour.

He was closely followed by two more people who staggered into the room, arm in arm and smelling strongly of drink.  The first was a large man wearing nothing but a loin cloth, his tall body built of layer upon layer of sinewy muscle.  His hair was blackish, long and greasy and there was a curved sword hanging at his waist. 

Yuri would have to have been blind not to know that this man was one of the fabled barbarians of the north lands.

His companion was a woman, mid-height and slim.  She was pleasingly curved, wearing a snug mixture of leather and cloth.   She was lovely but for the distinct lack of eyebrows and curious burn-marks on her forearms.  As she swept around Yuri to fondle the hooked mask on the plague doctor’s belt he noted with some dismay that she smelled strongly of sulphur and alcohol. 

She lifted her eyes to Magpie saying, “Hey!  Is that a mask too?”  To everyone’s horror she approached the bird-man, firmly grasping his beak and yanking on his face.  Magpie retaliated with a beak-snap and loud squawk, drawing blood.

The girl pulled her hand back, “Ah, a feisty one, I see.”  She peered deeper into the hood, “Wait.  Don’t I know you from the boat?  I do!  Oh my gods it’s you!”

The stranger sighed, “By the gods, I thought you’d died.”  His tone suggested more that he’d hoped.

“Not yet.” She grinned, bouncing over to plunk into a seat next to the barbarian.

After a rousing round of introductions the room fell into an awkward silence.

After an uncomfortably long moment an austere looking woman entered, Yuri recognised her as the priestess from earlier.

“I am Valanth Nerisia, cryptmistress of the Godsmouth ossuary,” she proclaimed, “and I’ve brought you all here for a purpose.  Bodies have been disappearing from the ossuary.  This obviously reflects badly on us as the bodies put there tend to have belonged to very wealthy citizens of Kaer Maga.  We need someone to get to the bottom of these disappearances.  The crypt itself is also likely inhabited by a few monsters.  Whilst you are down there I would like them cleared out.  We do this once a year and are long overdue.”

Yuri blinked.  By the seven veils, these Kaer Magians were even stranger than his mothers had warned.

“I can offer a reward for stopping whoever is behind the disappearing bodies,” She continued, “as well as an additional reward for clearing out the monsters: 500 gold crowns for unravelling this macabre mystery, and another 250 for clearing out the monsters.  In addition, you may keep anything that you come across which is not a Pharasman relic.  The only thing I ask is that you keep this quiet.  We do not want it getting out that the bodies in the ossuary are not secure.”

She offered the group the remainder of the night to rest and asked that they be back at the first light of day to begin their task.

The disappointingly dumb girl and her drinking partner wandered out again - presumably to continue drinking - while the rest of them found a place to rest.

*****

As the rising sun kissed the cliffs of Kaer Maga daylight found the unlikely group of six back in the room off the main section of the Godsmouth cathedral; rested, clothed, armed and armoured.  Valanth wasted no time in ushering them silently down into the ossuary, guiding them down a narrow, twisting path and through the Mouth of the Unnamed King.

She walked directly past the upper levels, where priests were busy preparing the dead for burial, and down a series of steep, winding staircases, finally stopping before a large, imposing door.

She spoke, “This is the only known door into the lower levels of the crypts.  Once you pass through it we will lock it behind you to prevent anything... unpleasant which you may release from escaping.”

The woman, who called herself Valeria, spoke up, “Umm... how are we supposed to get back out if the door’s locked?”

Valanth eyed the woman with strained patience and reached into a sack dangling from her arm, withdrawing a number of tiny, plain vials.  Some were filled with a translucent blue liquid and others with something resembling water, “Take the blue potion if you find yourself injured,” she instructed, “It will aid in the healing of your wounds.  The other vial is simply holy water, to be used against any... undead things you may come across down there.  Use these wisely for you are only allowed one each.” 

Once those were distributed she withdrew a hollow silvery metal tube from inside her robe, handing it to Valeria as she said, “This is a device to assist you in opening locked doors.  Strike it once and the tone it produces will open any lock, no matter how complicated. You may use it five times before it loses its potency... I suggest you save one of those uses to get back out.”

With that she withdrew a heavy-looking iron key and unlocked the door, opening it to reveal a tightly spiralling staircase on the other side.  The half-orc, Davros, sucked in a deep breath and secured his hook-beaked mask to his face, ready for anything.

Just before they could plunge intrepidly into the darkness an acolyte came running full tilt down the hall calling, “Cryptmistress!  Cryptmistress!  Someone demands to see you!”

The acolyte stepped aside, revealing a lovely red-haired gnomish woman holding an enormous spear twice her height.  She waved awkwardly and smiled, “Hi.  I’m Olivine.” She said, yellow eyes friendly.

Valanth appraised her cooly and nodded, “Excellent, the final member of our little group.  What kept you?”

Olivine shrugged, “I was... detained.  Sorry.”

Valanthe merely looked displeased and gestured them through the door. 

Valeria bent and picked up a stone, muttering some words over it.  The stone began to glow and she handed it to the barbarian, who went first down the stairs.

Winding down into the pitch black, the glowing stone their only light, they moved cautiously, finally emerging into a small stone chamber. Each of the three walls was broken by a single door sealed with a heavy bronze medallion emblazoned with the symbol of Pharasma.

No sooner had the gnome, the last of their group, cleared the bottom stair than the room was plunged into an unnatural, choking darkness that smothered every light source they’d carried with them. 

There were shouts and shuffling; chaos as everyone struggled to find light again or pierce the darkness in some other way.  A hideous leathery flapping sound came from the stairwell behind them and Yuri heard the gnome woman scream as the chamber filled with the sound of claws scrabbling against armour and flesh.

Akura, the Osiriani, split the air with a battle cry as he shoved his way back through the group in an attempt to save Olivine.  A wet thump followed his yell, his fist connecting with something unpleasant.  Something that sounded suspiciously like a heavy weapon whizzed past Yuri’s nose, cracking harmlessly into the stone floor before him.  He pasted himself against the wall as another blade zinged through the air, narrowly missing him.  Damned fools were going to kill each other, swinging their weapons blindly in the dark like that.

The gnome yelled again and there was a sound of something liquid splashing into the wall next to Yuri’s hand, followed by a hissing sound as it ate into the stone.  Acid.  Brilliant choice.

The barbarian, whose breathing had been growing steadily heavier, screamed with rage and charged his way through the party, swinging his weapon wildly before him and muttering something about “cursed unnatural darkness.”

A moment later Davros’ voice cut through the general chaos as he exclaimed, “By the great balls of the destroyer, this is ridiculous!”  With a plink and a grunt the half-orc hurled something towards the noise.  It landed with a metallic thunk, a booming thud echoing off the walls seconds later.  A heartbeat later there was a wet thump as the mysterious creature finally died, the heavy darkness dissipating as though the creature had been emitting it.

“A darkmantle.” Someone muttered, “Perfect.”

The gnome was shaking slightly, claw marks all over her face, “That... that could’ve killed me.”

Davros moved to the left, “Let’s start here.” He fiddled with the lock for a moment before saying, “This must be some kind of magical lock thingie... Valeria, where’s that tube the priestess gave you, I think we’ll need it to open this door.”

“You mean this tube?”  Magpie squawked, producing it from his cloak.

Valeria sputtered, “How.. how did you?”

Magpie laughed, “You should pay more attention to your things.”

Valeria leapt at the Magpie, hands grasping for the tube.

“I’m tired of you two children.” Davros sighed, striking the silver tube in his hand once on the door before slipping it into his clothing as the bird-man and woman looked at him in shock.  No one had seen the man move, let alone take the rod and replace it with the two shiny stones currently glittering in their palms.

The door fell open, revealing a long room ending in another, unsealed set of doors.  Next to the doors stood a strange statue; half snake, half woman with a disc for a head.

“That’s a statue of Lissala.” Davros muttered, “One of the old Thassilonian gods.”

Frellik shrugged and moved past it to the doors, clearly not fascinated by old relics.  These doors pushed open with no resistance revealing a long hallway, two passages branching off to the right and a single wooden door on the left.  Clearly a man of action instead of words, the barbarian pressed on through the doors, glancing down the passages before trying the simple door to his right.  It didn’t move.  With a growl he kicked it in.

Two voices rose in shrieks from the darkness as two shadowy figures drew their swords and attacked.  But after a brief, furious battle the new friends prevailed, handily slaughtering the two bird-like creatures.  Already they were starting to work better as a team.

When the dust settled they saw that the room beyond was richly decorated; plated thinly in gold and semi-precious jewels.  It was obviously dedicated to greed, one of the old Thassilonian virtues of leadership. A few of them paused to pry some gems out of their settings before moving on down the first of the two hallways to try one of the six doors that lined it.

The first room was bare save for a single scroll of remove paralysis and a large circle drawn on the floor in silver powder and designed to contain evil.  It was broken, but the threat seemed to be long gone.  The austerity of the room suggested it was dedicated to sloth.

The next room, directly across the hall from the first, was covered in bright paintings of triumph over gods, peacock feathers and the like.  On biers in the centre of the room were several bodies all looking exactly as they had the day they died.  They soon realized that everything in the room was an illusion.  Yuri shook his head, reasoning that it must be dedicated to pride, but how could pride be a bad thing?

The walls of the following room were covered in shockingly graphic images of orgies.  The blood and bones of unfortunate critters littered the floor around the feet of a creature with the bloated body of a human woman, hooked claws for hands and a massive, toothy lower jaw which split into two halves.  Suddenly the thing lurched forward, attacking.  The barbarian began to laugh as the group flailed and slashed at the creature, attempting to beat it back.  The creature landed several successful blows before the barbarian managed to pull himself out of his laughing fit long enough to grip his sword firmly in both hands and cleave the thing from collarbone to crotch.

Davros, rifled through a cabinet against the wall, pulling out two vials; an elixir of love and a potion of eagle’s splendour.  Meanwhile the gnome was salvaging about 400gp in jewellery off of the dead thing.

The next room was locked, both with a mundane lock and magical wards.  In the interests of moving forward, they agreed to skip the room and press on for now.

Frellik pushed forward to the next door.  Inside it was full of biers, bodies and embalming tools.  With a groan, one of the bodies sat up, its torso rotting, skin straining over its bloated body.

Akura and Frellik advanced, swinging wildly at the thing.  Their blows did some damage, but bounced off as though the skin were thick rubber.  Davros threw a bomb, which detonated with a boom at the creature’s feet.  In reply the creature swung a meaty fist, connecting with the monk’s jaw and sending him reeling.  With a mighty swing of his scimitar, Frellik finally managed to kill the creature.  It exploded in a shower of fine, fungal dust which the barbarian accidentally inhaled, choking and spluttering.  The plague doctor moved forward, purging Frellik’s lungs of the dust. They found only two shining black onyxes worth 50 gold each which sat safely tucked away atop a cabinet against the far wall.