The Journal of ST - Entry 5

This is really a message to Osbert. I understand the prohibition of killing innocent people. I get that. But after some reflection, I have to give Ostar the benefit of the doubt. Ostar is a very deliberate person and doesn't take lightly the things he does. I have to give him that - he has been invaluable to us on this trip to the Domelands and he will continue to be invaluable. As much as I can trust anyone, I trust Ostar.

It took some consideration and reflection, but I remember Ostar telling us that he had encountered the redcaps previously. So he has some experience with some of the things we saw in the cave on Demos. I do feel a kinship with Ostar and if I have to, though I hope not, I will likely be willing to continue on his mission, whatever it is. Right now the immediate task is getting to Black Tom in Lemmia to convey three things, the two most important (and what I immediately remember) being that (1) the Giants are remobilizing and (2) Blackbriar has returned. Ostar seemed less concerned with Yall'athun.

The chief concern with the giants was puzzling at first but then again I'm not 500 years old. This world was remade after the war with the Giants. If they are in fact mobilizing again, it can only be assumed that this same fate awaits the world again. Somehow we are likely going to be caught in the middle of it. Honestly, I don't have anything better to do so lets do the thang.

Amor fati.

Soromir Thoroughgash - Stream of Conscience

Another cave. I'm not sure which was worse - spiders or these damn skeletons. They are packing a punch and I can't seem to get my sword to work, which is really frustrating. I keep toying with the idea of cursing one of these damn things. I haven't done it yet and I'm not sure if its worth it. Do I save it for something bigger - there is no telling what else is in this cave.

Clovis seems pretty damn useless. He took one hit and is blabbering like a baby. I honestly don't know if he's going to make it. I also don't know what happens to the "oath" we made if he dies. Are we responsible for his body?

Additionally, if we have to lug a treasure chest with us and then swim with it in this cave, how's that gonna work?

Maybe there is another exit that doesn't require swimming...

Session 6

Date: 2/11/2018

Attending: Jake, Dave, Wes, Joey

Absent: Aaron - traveling, Justin – schedule conflict

Start Time: 7:10 p.m.

The party rests for 8 hours in the choker cavern.  Osbert is able to kick his case of filth fever during this time, but Soromir still suffers from the disease. Upon waking it is revealed that Jace is afflicted as well (his incubation roll being 2 days as opposed to Osbert & Soromir who rolled 1 each respectively).  The party upon waking gets involved in a discussion as to what to do next. Osbert lays out 5 options (as he sees it):

1) Head topside and explore the jungle, possibly facing the hellcat

2) Return to the wasp nest

3) Stay put and try to heal up

4) Return to the mushroom forest to explore

5) Return to the rat tunnel

The group weighs each option in turn and finally decides to rest for 2 solid days in the choker cavern. After that period they plan to head to the mushroom forest next. The party camps out again. After the first day they deplete the meager stores of food and water. Khalo is able to replenish the water reserves with his druidic magic, but the second day of rest is a hungry one. During that time both Jace and Soromir are able to shake off the filth fever contracted from the earlier battle with the rats and the party is more or less healed up and recuperated.

They head off for the mushrooms, threading their way through the lava tubes. Almost too late Osbert remembers the danger of the purple mushrooms, and the adventurers are able to avoid triggering one. The mushroom forest is as vast as they remembered, and is eerily quiet and they wander between the giant stalks. Unfortunately Khalo determines that none of the mushroom varieties are edible, and the party continues hungrily on. After a few hundred yards they come to a sheer cliff. Below them giant mushrooms grow out of the side of the cliff face and they realize that it may be possible to jump down relatively safely – but there is no way to return easily. The dim illumination of the lichen does not reveal how far down the cliff goes, nor how far it is to the other side. Osbert throws a few triangular copper coins out in various directions, but no one is able to hear them land (did Dave mark them off his sheet? I don’t remember seeing him do so, but he may have. If not – mark off 3 copper). Rather than risk the climb, the party follows the cliff line for a ways.

As they do so, Khalo notices something moving in the darkness, seemingly walking on the air below in the canyon. No one else is able to see what his sharp eyes notice, but they agree to let him investigate. Climbing down on some higher mushroom caps along the cliff wall, Khalo sees that most of the canyon is lightly covered with thin webbing. The movement he saw was an enormous black spider, three times the size of a farm cart, walking along the web. Returning to the clifftop, Khalo informs his fellows of what he has seen. Realizing that this spider is much larger than the ones fought previously and a different type – it being slick slender black with a huge abdomen instead of the brown bristly roughness of the others – the party makes a quick quiet withdraw from the mushroom forest.

Returning to the tunnels, our heroes turn next to the rat tunnel. Arriving at the location of the previous confrontation with the rats they realized that they had mistakenly assumed that many more rats awaited them. Instead they find the tunnel empty and proceed on. After a while they come to another fork and choose the left branch. After yet more walking they smell a fair whiff of salt in the air. Pressing on they come to another fork.  To the right is the unmistakable taste of fresh sea air, and the faint sound of lapping water. To the right they hear what sounds like voices conversing in the distance.

Choosing to chase the sea instead of the voices they bear right and after ¼ of a mile the tunnel widens out into a sandy beach. A hidden cove is nestled in a vast cavern. Sunlight pours in from the huge opening in front of them, and the reflection dances across the cave ceiling 80 feet above. Beached on the soft sand are two vessels. One is old and has obviously been there a while and neglected. The other is a sleek  single masted yacht. There is no name painted on the side and it looks relatively new. It is clearly built for speed.

Immediately their thoughts turn to escape, but before they can jump aboard the yacht they see something approaching the cove in the sea. Squinting Khalo and Osbert are able to make out what looks like a giant skull of something reptilian on the waves. Oars are sticking out of its teeth, and on the white bone forehead is a red symbol which makes them feel a little queasy to look at for some reason.

Not wanting to confront whatever is within that dark vessel, the party retreats back into the tunnels. This time they choose to explore the passage where they heard voices. Moving quietly they enter a cavern that has many rock formations – stalactites, stalagmites, and columns where the two met and grew together. They quickly hide behind a low formation, peering over the rock at the occupants of the room who have not noticed them. Against the far wall, some 40 feet from where our heroes hid, is an odd circular mechanical door. It pulsates with green light – subtly different from the bioluminescence of the cave walls – and has a mechanism in the center. As for the occupants, there are two.

The first is pacing back and forth, gesturing quickly as he speaks. He is a tall lean hatchet-faced man, clean shaven, whose jet black hair is pulled back in a ponytail. He is wearing black leather armor with the cultist symbol on the chest, but it is noticeably fancier and higher quality than the suit Soromir currently wears. He is wearing tastefully elegant boots in pristine condition, embroidered gloves, and a rapier that seems to drip a liquid onto the ground that bubbles and hisses on contact with the stone floor. On his forehead is a golden circlet, and three small glowing stones orbit his head as he paces.

The second is leaning against the wall of the cave in a relaxed pose. He has a plain brown cloak with the hood pulled up, only revealing a short brown beard and an unremarkable nose. Two handles stick out of his cloak revealing weapons on his belt, but what those weapons are cannot be said. He has a dull green sash over a plain linen tunic, but underneath the glint of metal can be faintly seen suggesting his is far more armored than he appears.

The party tunes into what is obviously an ongoing conversation, and one that has probably gotten repetitious as the two men wait for something. The Hatchet-Faced man is saying “I resent having to work with these things. The Tainted Ones are just fringe creatures of no real power.” The bearded man replies calmly in a patient tone, “You would be surprised at how powerful the Tainted Ones can be. Just because they are rarely seen does not mean they should be dismissed lightly. Besides, they are the only ones who can open the door.”

“Bah. They are worse than goblins. Crude illiterate beasts.”

“Regardless, this is our task.”

A long pause stretches out for a moment, finally broken by Hatchet-Face who says, “They should have been here by now. This isn’t even our scheme! The Serpent Cult is being treated as errand runners and…” He suddenly goes quiet as the pounding of heavy rhythmic footsteps echo down the tunnel. Beard Man looks at him for a moment and quietly says “They’re here.” Hatchet-Face rolls his eyes and mutters “Finally!” under his breath as four creatures march into the room.

They are a hunched squat 6 ½ foot tall, seemingly a solid mass of muscle. Coarse brutish faces over a chain shirt that stretches to mid-thigh; they seem to have no neck so heavily muscled are their shoulders. Their feet are covered by heavy thick solid steel boots that come up almost to the knee. Small trickles of blood run out over the tops of the boots, staining the metal with rivulets of brown, black, and red. They each hold a massive axe in one hand with a blade of pitted coarse iron fully two feet long.  Having entered they take position in a formation and stand stock still, staring at the two men in the room. Hatchet-Face seems a little less derisive now that they are in the room; it is clear that this is not what he expected.

The tableau is still and silent for a moment. A rhythmic thocking noise is heard. A moment or two later that thocking is revealed to be a staff hitting the ground as a diminutive shriveled figure steadily walks into the room, using a twisted length of wood for support.

This creature is clearly ancient. At three feet six inches tall, it looks like a desiccated cherub, withered wrinkled skin drawn over a round skull. It’s eyes are sunk deep under heavy brows – no eyeballs can be seen. Instead two pinpricks of light seem to shine out of the depths of black voids. On its head is a red cap that glistens slightly in the pale illumination. Tiny runnels of blood leak out from under the cap, dampening the wisps of white hair. It wears a simple grey robe, tied at the waist with a piece of rope. Around its neck is a leather thong with three things hanging from it: an extremely lifelike carving of a dead raven, a crude wicker doll in the pose of a hanged man, and a small glass vial filled with something jet black.

The creature arrives in the center of the steel booted formation and leans on its staff. Slowly it scans the room. When it gets to the place where the party is hiding it stops. Soromir realizes he has locked eyes with it; a quick flicker of the points of light that serve as eyes lets him know that it has seen him and his companions. All of the party realizes that their flesh has goose bumped and their pulse quickened; this tiny figure has a presence that triggers a primal fear in each of them.

Impatiently Hatchet-Face breaks the silence with “Well? What’s the hold up?” Holding Soromir’s gaze with its own, the creature smiles, revealing an impossibly wide mouth that seems to split its head from ear to ear and a mouth filled with tight needle like teeth. It’s faint raspy voice slides through the air as it replies “Just checking to make sure all is as it should be. And it is.” Turning to Hatchet-Face it continues, “I am here as agreed.”

“You’re Blackbriar?”

“I am.”

Another moment ticks by and Hatchet-Face snaps “Well go on. Open the door!” The small creature just stood there, leaning on his staff. Finally he rasped out “This is just a business arrangement. My payment?”

Without a word Hatchet-Face turned around, went behind a rock column, and returned with a small wooden chest. The creature staffed over to the chest raised the lid and peered inside. He then closed the lid and one of his brutish bodyguards stepped forward and took it. Then the small creature measuredly went over to the round mechanical door. Deftly manipulating the device in the center the door began to shift as sections separated from the whole and recessed into the cave wall. Finally it was open. From beyond a green light poured into the cavern, a green that was the green of sickness and decay.

The creature then turned and returned to the center of the room. Locking eyes with Osbert this time it paused and then without looking away from the hidden paladin, said over its shoulder to Hatchet-Face, “How are Yalathoon’s plans progressing?”

Sensing an opportunity Hatchet-Face stepped closer to him and said, “You would be wise to join him Blackbriar! He has many allies including the Cult of Set and the Serpent Cult! His plans near fruition and it would be well for you to be aligned with him when they do. In a moment one of the Dark Ones will arrive to pass through the door.”

Still holding Osbert’s gaze Blackbriar replied, “I have no interest in Yalathoon’s plans or success. Or in staying any longer on this island. Now that mystic ways are no longer barred…” With that he waved his shriveled hand and disappeared into thin air. On his disappearance the four heavy Tainted Ones turned and marched out, back in the direction they came.

Not a split second later a purple light appeared in the air in the center of the cavern. It traced a vertical circle in the air and when it was complete a grey field filled the circle. Stepping out of it was a new figure. It was tall, seven feet at least, and rail thin, tightly wrapped in a black cloak and robe. The deeply drawn hood shifted slightly and Khalo saw what looked like a tiny tentacle come out of the hood and pull it back into place. Hatchet-Face gave a slight bow of the head and said, “Dark Lord.” Then he, the tall figure, and the Bearded Man all crossed through the round door and beyond.

The party counted to five and then ran out of the now empty cavern, straight to the enclosed beach. They saw that the skull vessel was there, and the mouth was opened. In the mouth, seated on rows of benches were dozens of small creatures that looked like Blackbriar but not shriveled or ancient. The last of the large Tainted Ones finished stepping in and turned around. It was clear that he could see the party but he stood impassively as the mouth of the giant reptilian skull closed over him, oars extended from its teeth, and it began to row out to sea.

The group didn’t miss a beat, but dove for the sleek yacht on the beach. Turning to Old Jarl, Osbert asked “How many people are needed to sail this thing?”

“We can do it with 2. More help is appreciated. Grab that rope, we’re in a hurry here.” As the guys frantically cast off, Khalo (I think? Someone if not him) turns to Old Jarl and said “Let’s said the island coast for a short piece to see if we can see Jarek and pick him up.” Old Jarl agreed and the yacht enters the sea, running along the beach.

The party does not see Jarek, and notices that the dinghy is missing. Soromir grimly looks around at the others and said, “I knew it. Told you so.”

After sailing away from the island for an hour the party searches the yacht from top to bottom. They find a hidden sack of 3,000gp, a barrel of salted beef, two barrels of fresh water, and a barrel of oranges soaking in rum. They also realize that the ship has no papers – not even a name painted on the side. Next they sat down and talked about where to go next. Old Jarl doesn’t think the small yacht could make the journey to Lemia, certainly not without more provisions. He speculates that the yacht had been sailed down from Pelon instead of from either mainland.

Old Jarl roughly sketches out the Forbidden Isles based on what Born-Under-Red-Sky told them, and the party decides to sail around the lagoon and put in at Sebastian’s Cove, the suspected pirate isle. It takes them 3 days of sailing to arrive.

On the journey Soromir notices that Norris has been very quiet, almost depressed. Ostar too looks grim. Soromir asks each in turn what’s bothering them. Ostar names the large brutish bodyguards of Blackbriar as Steeltoes, and give a terse description of Steeltoes and Redcaps and their origin. He then mutters “If Blackbriar is active again… there are people who must be told.”

Norris is afraid, because he feels like the creatures and people who were in the room are going to find out the party was there, and they will all be marked men whose time is limited. Osbert confirms that Blackbriar at least knew they were there. Ostar suggests that Blackbriar asked about Yalathoon for the party’s benefit – to give them info. Khalo mentions that he thought that the Cult of Set and the Serpent Cult were the same group. Norris says that they are not; they both come from a different world across the Void. He’s heard that the Serpent Cult worships something called the “World Serpent.”

On the evening of the third day out from Demos the Cursed Isle, they approach Sebastian’s Cove. At the edge of the island is a lighthouse capped with a giant skull, missing the jawbone. The light shines out from the eye and nasal sockets. It stands on a rocky outcropping that juts out into the sea. Sailing around it they sail into the cove.

Nestled into a rocky cliff, stretching upward over 3 tiers is a port town. It seems to mostly be created out of the remains of old ships and crude huts. Some 20 vessels are docked at a series of piers. They dock the yacht. Several buccaneers are walking by talking. Striking up conversation they learn that something unseen has been killing people, showing up after a castaway arrived in a weather beaten dinghy. They postulate that Jerek came in the dinghy and the hellcat stowed away, Life of Pi like.

Going into a tavern for a drink, they see that the common room is in disarray. Talking with the bartender they hear a tale about a castaway who came in, order drinks and food and ignored everybody. When it came time to pay he just looked up, gestured, and men started getting torn apart by unseen claws. The party then has darker suspicions about Jerek, the dinghy, and the hellcat.

Heading into town they stop at a store to provision. They purchase a few items, armor and weapons mainly, and Soromir tries to sell the cultist armor. The shopkeep’s eyes light up and offers a large sum –far more than a suit of leather is worth. Cautiously they leave and frequent a different shop. They all gather in a tavern and discuss next moves, possibly finding a captain willing to take on passengers.

End of Session

600 XP; 50 to Wes for blogging

The Journal of Soromir Thoroughgash - Entry 4

There is a preferred bard of mine named Trent of Clan Reznor. The bard is known for his dark moods and even darker songs. I don't mind and frankly prefer the pragmatism of this words if only due to the fact that life is not all beer and skittles.

There is a particluar song by the abovementioned bard that is apprapo of our closing time on the Island of Demos and the events that met our departure from the island.

It goes like this:

I'd listen to the words he'd say 
But in his voice I heard decay 
The plastic face forced to portray 
All the insides left cold and gray 
There is a place that still remains 
It eats the fear it eats the pain 
The sweetest price he'll have to pay 
The day the whole world went away 
Na na nah 
Na na na, nah 
Na na nah 
Na na na , nah

A bit dramatic, I know. However, the words we heard from the cultists pale in comparison to what we saw join the cultists and the magics performed there. These things were evil. I'm not a paladin nor am I one to cast dispersions lightly nor do I particularly care for one's affiliation, but these things were very, very, very bad. Whatsmore, these things, and the thing leading them, knew we were in the cave. They knew we witnessed the events. And they didn't care. If that doesn't betray one's place in the cosmos, I don't know what does. We were less than nothing in their eyes. This is a chilling realization and I think it might shed some light on Norris' underlying fear. Yes, we are likely marked men, as Norris would have me believe to be his primary concern. However, the real concern (and I may be projecting here) is the whole non-chalance of the thing. In otherwords, we are nothing to them; they can make our whole world go away. 

Khalo's Journal: The Forbidden Isles - Entry 3

We continued to explore the caverns beneath the ruined temple. This time, I was chosen for the duty of looking after Old Jarl, and for a time, Born Under Red Sky. He is dead now. His passing, along with the injuries and exotic diseases to which the others fell victim renewed the sense of urgency among the survivors that escape from this island is a top priority. I myself have enjoyed my time here on Demos, and will attempt to recall this place as a destination for the time in my life when I am too old and feeble to survive in the more dangerous parts of the world.

Before resuming our mission, the injured required some time to heal. To pass the time while we were waiting, I recounted a story from my time with Ashanto and Blinet, which I will enter here in writing:

In Ryagnar, where many of my early escapades took place, there was a local landowner by the name of Gearhy. Gearhy had an unusual strategy for the protection of his livestock which sought to take advantage of his holding's natural geographic features, namely a ring of scrub land that surrounded a more fertile central territory where his cattle and sheep would graze. Gearhy built two fences on his property - an outer fence around his entire territory, and an inner fence surrounding the homestead and the grazing land. In between, in the swampy, marshy portion, he had a collection of beasts and oddities that he permitted to roam free. These beasts were selected based on the unlikelihood that they would attack his cattle, and they would keep out coyotes and the like.

His pride and joy was a Shambling Mound, and he and his unusual serf had developed a unique fondness for one another, so much so that when Gearhy learned that Blinet had a gift for song writing, he commissioned the bard to write an ode for his precious sentient plant mass. The advance alone paid our bills for a fortnight, and so Ashanto and I did not argue with our party member taking a less-than-heroic job.

The ditty Blinet came up with was catchy, and the lyrics were self-aware. I rather liked it, and still find myself singing it under my breath from time to time:

This is the theme for Gearhy's mound,
the theme for Gearhy's mound,
Gearhy sought me out one day and asked me to write this theme song,
I got paid in advance,
I already spent the money,
This is the theme for Gearhy's Shambling Mound!

Telling the story to the others seemed to do the trick, as they seemed more motivated than ever to get up and move around.

And so we continued exploring, and looking for a way out. We doubled back to a place with very large mushrooms where the group had been before when I was absent, but found no recourse, only a very large spider which we were quick to avoid.

The next stop was to revisit a rat hideout, our reasoning being that at least we could kill one for food, which at the time was in short supply. However, we found no rats living where there once had been, and the group made the decision to continue moving down the tunnel system, which gave way to a lava tube - Demos being recently volcanic. The lava tube took us to a fork, where on one side we could hear voices, but on another side, we could smell the salt air of the sea. We elected to head down the tunnel toward the water first, coming upon a cove where a very nice, new ship was docked. However, just when we were toasting our good fortune, another ship began it's approach. This one looked very dangerous, and we chose to retreat back into the lava tube and approach the voices. We came upon a formidable pair, but they did not see us - they were waiting in front of a large, locked metal door, and based on their conversation, they appeared to be waiting for the boat we had just seen arrive!

We continued to hide, and soon approached a small band of something I have heard legend of, but had never seen in person - tainted ones! Oh, but they were foul! Their state of undeath-death offended everything about my upbringing, but for terror and survival instinct I could not bring myself to confront them and rid this world of their presence.

Their leader, a gnome-like creature called Blackbriar, accepted payment of a chest in exchange for opening this door for the two men, but he did not seem friendly to them. The men, who espoused philosophies not unlike those found in what was left behind by the previous cultist corpses we encountered, seemed an anathema to Blackbriar, though oddly, I could have sworn he was aware of our presence, and as Ostar later pointed out to me, his unusual tone of conversation suggested that he was revealing information for our benefit. I will try to repeat the conversation as best I can - I recall it fairly well, thought it is not set to catchy music like the Theme for Gearhy's Shambling Mound:

Blackbriar: How have Yallathune's plans progressed?
Cultist: You would be wise to join him, Blackbriar! He has assembled powerful forces, including the Cult of Set and the Cult of the Serpent.
Blackbriar: I have no interest in Yallathune, or remaining here, for that matter.

At this point, Blackbriar vanished, and his retinue left to their ship. The door was opened, and the cultists summoned a terrible creature with a horrific voice, and dare I recall tentacles on it's face? It wore a hood, but I was almost certain that I saw that. Once the coast was clear, we beat a hasty retreat out to the cove and made off with the small ship, which we now believe belonged to the cultist. It was thievery, pure and simple, but if these men had an evil agenda, perhaps it is just as well that we inconvenienced them.

With Jarl at the helm, we set out, and were delighted to find ample food stores - salted meat, rice, and rum-soaked oranges! We ate our fill. An attempt was made to return for Jerek, but we could not find him on the beach, or the dinghy itself.

On Jarl's recommendation, and with our hearty agreement, our group set out for Limbo's Birth, a town in Sebastian's Cove where piracy and smuggling rule supreme. Our intent is to sell the boat and book passage on a ship that will at last take us to Lemia, or somewhere at least on the way, as has been our intended journey all along. My future writings in this volume shall not be marked as "Forbidden Isles," much to the mutual relief of all.

Entry concluded.

Session 5

Date: 2/4/2018

Attending: Jake, Dave, Wes, Aaron, Justin

Absent: Joey – flight delayed

Start Time: 7:25 p.m.

The party is in the basement of the ruined temple on Demos the Cursed Isle. The “away team” had just returned and shared their explorations with the “home team” and was in need of rest. Before bedding down Orenthal slays the grub that is mindlessly rooting about the room in an act of random violence and totally not out of meta-game irritation that it keeps being mentioned in flavor text and game logs. Upon resting the party discovers that Osbert and Soromir have filth fever, contracted from rat bites. Orenthal works on his spell book while Norris tends to them, and the group ends up resting for a full 16 hours. Neither Soromir or Osbert are able to shake the disease during that time.

After resting the party has a discussion about where to explore next. Involving Old Jarl, he says that whichever way they go he feels the entire group should go so that if a way off the island is discovered there is no need to reclaim part of the group. Everyone agrees, and they decide to explore the caverns further, this time taking the first right fork.

They head out, sticking to the plan and take the first right fork past the location of the dead cultist who had the note. After walking for a short ways the tunnel opens up on the right side into a large cavern. The tunnel continues past it along the left wall. The cavern floors and walls seem to be moving, and after a moment they realize that there are dozens and dozens of giant centipedes swarming around the cavern. They attempt to sneak past, but two centipedes break away from the mass and follow the party. The group leads the insects down the hall a bit away from the cavern and the swarm, and then turns and slays the followers.

They continue down the tunnel. After some time they notice a change in the moss and lichen on the walls – a new white cottony strand substance has appeared. Examination reveals it to be spider web, and the further down the tunnel they go the thicker it becomes until it is falling from the ceiling like curtains. Osbert lights a makeshift torch and burns through the webbing, noting that it burns relunctantly and not for long.

Eventually they push through into a room that seems to have tunnels or cubbies branching off from either side. The floor is covered in webbing, but does not hinder movement. In the far end of the room, 4 webbing pods hang from the ceiling. The party cautiously advances, and once they are in the center of the room giant spiders the size of ponies pour out of the cubbies, 6 total. The fight is furious and turns towards desperation. Osbert goes down and is revived with a healing spell. Ostar, Jace, and Soromir are poisoned by viscous bites. Born-Under-Red-Sky is killed outright. Finally Ostar hits several spiders with a burning hands spell which causes them to flee. The party beats a hasty retreat back down the tunnel. Many of them are wounded and suffering from poison, and the filth fever is taking its toll as well. None-the-less they managed to kill 2 of the 6 spiders, and they resolve to return to finish the job (well, after a debate with Osbert about whether it is necessary or not). They rest for 8 hours in the tunnel (between the centipede swarm room and the spiders, as is nervously noted by those on watch) heal up as best as they can, and head back. This time, they go in with a plan to lure the spiders to the mouth of the tunnel and limit how many can approach and how many are exposed. Osbert charges in as bait, but the spiders get the drop on him and surround him alone in the room. They party sticks to the plan however, and Osbert – poisoned and wounded – manages to break free and pull the spiders into the intended position.  The party stands two abreast, swapping out the frontline as needed, and eventually slays all 4 remaining spiders.

Cutting open one of the pods in the back of the spider ambush room reveals a giant centipede who groggily flees back towards the swarm cavern. The party continues on through the tunnels and eventually notice that it curves around. This time they hug the left wall at all intersections, and find that they are moving through tunnels the “away team” explored the previous day. They wind up back at the temple ruins basement, but find that several centipedes have entered to scavenge the grub corpse. They fall back to where the choker ambushed Soromir and make camp.

End of Session

500 XP; 50 to Wes and Justin for blogging

The Journal of ST, entry 3 (I think)

Bajol the Maimed, indeed. I'm so damned delirious I don't even know if I spelled the dude's name right.

Bugs. Fucking bugs. Arachnids, centipedes...

Those spiders were almost deadly. Thanks to Osbert, we all have some legitimate combat prowess now. The suggestion to fight in the entrance/tunnel really worked to our favor. We were incredibly lucky to get out of there and regroup though. Everyone is pretty damned hurt and we need to rest. We also need to consider getting above ground for a few hours to re-provision.

We still haven't come across the third member of the cultist party. If he made it through this gauntlet, he's probably a pretty stout fighter. We'll need more help with this. I'm hoping Khalo is up to the challenge.

I don't have too much to write. It was a really hard fight and I'm pretty hurt. I think I'm gonna lay down now. Good night.