| Game Master: System: Date: | Ken Dungeons & Dragons 5e Homebrew Campaign 14th July 2022 |
| Characters: | Fayd – Half Orc Barbarian Gunnar Orcsson – Half Orc Barbarian Jaraziah Grimm – Human Cleric Iivan – Drow Rogue Balasar Aurumingis – Dragonborn Sorcerer Luther – Half Elf Bard Navarro – Half Elf Paladin Tad Hemlock – Halfling Bard (Retired) Tianzi – Half Elf Sorlock (Retired) |
With Balasar stood swaying over the Stag Lord’s corpse the group slowly began to turn their attention to looting their vanquished opponest, aside from Navarro who was still gamely limping toward the Stag Lord’s body mumbling curses against his fallen foe. Gunnar was rooting through the pile of dead archers Luther had murdered when without warning all his hair suddenly fell off, leaving him standing confused on an ersatz fur rug that hadn’t been there a second before. He thought he heard a faint laugh and immediately his thoughts turned to Peggzy and Kagey…..somehow the bloody goblins had turned themselves invisible and tracked him down just so they could shave him…it seemed odd they hadn’t used the opportunity to attack him or steal his map but hurting as he was he shugged it off, they were always slightly unhinged after all. Meanwhile Fayd had approached the Stag Lord and went to grab his sword, before snatching his hand back and leaping away
“That sword….it’s wrong somehow…don’t touch it!” he called to the others, before gingerly nudging the large kite shield tentatively to see if it emanated the same powerful sense of magical strangeness. Luther and Iivan could be heard squabbling over by the throne, the Bard seeming to think he’d been posioned while the Drow was fiddling with something and berating him for his carelessness. Gunnar shrugged and in something of a daze began to carefully scoop up his lost hair into a sack.
“Hey, Gunnar, what happened…. errr, you know you’re bald right?” Fayd said glancing over at his friend curiously
“Probably those fucking goblins messing with me” replied Gunnar trying to brush it off and hide his own confusion, Fayd’s eyes lingered on the strange blade Gunnar had retrieved from the barrow with sceptiscm before he eventually nodded to the other orc
“Well I guess we’re both bald now eh” he joked, slapping Gunnar on the back before walking back to Balasar and the Stag Lord. Meanwhile the squabbling by the throne was getting louder, and Fayd thought he could see the pair struggling over a small chest, rolling his eyes he turned his attention to Navarro, who seemed to be talking to the dead Stag Lord
“..because you’re dead Stag Lord, that’s right – all dead and I, Sir Navarro was your doom”
“He’s been like this for a while now” Balasar looked up and spoke to Fayd “I think he caught a few blows to his head back there”
“His head and everything else by the look of him” answered Fayd, slightly worried about the paladin’s sanity now the focus of his attention was destroyed.
“..yes I am, that’s right my friend – you’re going in the river soon, with all the fishies…you are…yes you are” Navarro’s mumbled as the strangely one sided conversation continued he began dragging the Stag Lord towards the passageway.
“We could just cut the body up you know, make it easier to carry” Gunnar offered, a sack of hair clutched under his freshly smooth arm.
“No no no, no cutting – the Stag Lord’s body must go to the river” replied Navarro
“Well, yes… his body will go, and his arms and his legs and his head – it’d be much easier” said Gunnar gesturing at their companions and trying to demonstrate how if they each carried a part of the Stag Lord how much lighter the load would be
“NO! his head is mine I tell you” barked Navarro before returning to his crooning mocking of the corpse. Gunnar exchanged glances with the others but when no one offered anything further he shrugged and knelt by the body
“Ok mate, but at least let me help you – this is a heavy load for one” Navarro looked up, then seemed to decide that was acceptable and nodded before they slung the dead weight between them. The others had now begun dividing their spoils and piling the heavier items neatly for retrieval when they had finished hunting for Starling.
Navarro, hefted his end of the corpse to pull out his horn and blast a challenge that echo’d around the chamber “Fellows! To victory! May it always taste this sweet – Onwards Squire, you’ve earned the honour of leading us this day” Luther’s expression suggested he wasn’t quite sure about the honour being bestowed on him, but the opportunity to put some distance between himself and his bombastic companion seemed welcome and he slipped off into the shadows. Fayd bounding after him calling as loudly as he dared for the yound bard to wait for the others.
“Luther!” hissed Fayd trying to catch the young elf before he stumbled into any trouble and beckoning his to slow down, but Luther seemed not to care and continued to pass unmolested through the complex with the wild orc torn between keeping an eye on his friend and not loosing the rest of the group – though the heavy footfalls and occaisional “To me, to you….no your OTHER left!” echoing down the corridors seemed the latter scenario was unlikely for the time being. Looking back to see where Luther had gotten to he saw the bard crouching against the wall motionless, as he approached Luther turned to him wide eyed and whispered “I saw something, there’s someone just through there” and pointed to a juntion in the passage ahead.
“We should go back and warn the others” argued Fayd
“No, I’ve got this – I can send them a message” and the young elf closed his eyes and uttered some strange words under his breath
Back in another corridor Gunnar cursed as Navarro suddenly dropped the Stag Lord and came to a sudden halt, head cocked to one side as if listening
“What is it?” asked the barbarian, as the Paladin’s face changed into a beaming vision of religious euphoria
“It’s Helm! She’s speaking to me…in my head”
The others all glanced nervously at each other but Navarro continued unabashed
“…it’s strange, it’s almost like she’s using my Squire’s voice…. but she tells me that Fayd and Luther are in danger and have found something up ahead” he paused, then pointed off down a long dark corridor on their left “That way in fact”
Luther opened his eyes and muttered “That bloody man is impossible, right fuck it” and sprang to his feet and trotted forward, stopping again a after a few strides as a shimmering figure materialised before him. Fayd couldn’t quite make out the words but it seemed clear that Luther and this apperition were arguing about whether Starling had passed through this passage in her escape and he frantically waved at the others to hurry up. They all watched, preparing to aid the young bard if needed but hanging back lest they provoke the spirit to anger. Finally Luther let out a familar exasperated sigh and turned away and walked back to the group. Pausing his monologue with the Stag Lord’s corpse Navarro called out to the strange apperition
“Spirit! If you are with the Stag Lord’s shade, tell him that Sir Navarro is coming for him” commanded the paladin
The ghost seemed unfazed by this and began to clean the wall of the corridor, more surprisingly to his companions Navarro seemed uncharacteristically unpeterbed by being ignored and went back to crooning threats to the Stag Lord’s body. Frustrated, Fayd strode forward growling and lashed out at the ghostly figure – who vanished, but Fayd then stalked stiffly to a wall and without any warning began to smash his head against it. Gunnar rushed forward and placed his hair filled sack between his friend’s bloodied face and the stonework, shaking him roughly with his other hand and shouting for him to snap out of this madness. Luther stalked back from wherever he’d been and shouted some more insults at the empty air, which suddenly contained the glowing figure again. Fayd caught himself and looked around visibly confused while Gunnar steadied him
“Easy mate, you went a bit mad there for a moment”
“It’s that fucker there” growled Fayd in reply “he did that somehow”
“Well, let’s get you out of his way for a bit eh” Grunted Gunnar escorting the other barbarian back
Iivan passed the two and plastering a deferential smile on his sharp features began to cajole the spirit with gentle questions on the nature of the crypt and it’s occupants, learning that the ghosts master was of the noble house of Loric and would not be pleased to find intruders near his cleansing chamber. With the spirit growing more and more agitated Iivan beat a hasty retreat back to the party
“He says Starling hasn’t passed this way, but there might be another way out of this place after all” he explained to the group. They began slowly re tracing their steps, tapping at the walls and floor for any sign of a secret door.
“Wait, if this place is a tomb why all the these passages and rooms?” grumbled Gunnar adjusting his grip on the Stag Lord’s corpse as they tramped back through the complex, entering a small chamber filled with simple wooden beds
“See? Why did they go to the trouble of building a bloody bedroom down here – it’s not like they get many houseguests popping by now is it?” he continued gesturing around them.
“They didn’t bloody well build this then you stupid halfie, they probably bought them with them when they started using this place as a meeting place” muttered Iivan while the others shouted and berated the newly bald barbarian for his foolishness. Muttering under his breath Gunnar set down the corpse and began eyeing the walls and hefting his crobar from his pack looking for something to take out his frustration on. Iivan and Luther were pressed to a wall tapping carefully when the end of Gunnar’s crobar slammed into the masonry between them, prompting cries of annoyance
“Fucking doors, if we need a door let’s just make our own” the big orc grunted as he swung again, chipping chunks of stone free but his efforts did not reveal a hidden entrance, just more chipped stonework. Wiping the back of his hand across his sweaty brow he stepped back “I need a drink” he declared. In the next instant the crypt vanished and the party found themselves and their loot standing outside Winter’s Hall in Yucan.
The cries of surprise and alarm of the party mingled with those of a few villagers who’d seen them materialise out of nowhere
“What the hell did you do?” asked Luther to a stunned Gunnar
The big orc blinked slowly and stammered “I just wanted a drink….I don’t know” and shrugging off the strangeness wandered into the Hall in search of ale – his time at sea teaching him to never look a gift horse in the mouth. He brushed past Mayor Webster who was hurrying over to them, as the others gathered up their belongings, all aside from Fayd who was lamenting the loss of yet another cart.
“You’ll be coming to see me in the morning yes?” Webster called out as the party filed slowly after Gunnar, recieving a chorus of weary affirmations from the stunned group. While the bulk of the party grabbed drinks from the bar and began steadily drinking, Luther decided to try and earn some coin by regaling the other tavern patrons with a tale of their recent expliots. The young bard demonstrated his skills, weaving a mesmorising tale from his instrument and haunting vocals. Soon he was coercing cheers and gasps from the audience, building to the crescendo when describing how the might dragonborn sorcerer Balasar administered a firey kiss of death to the villinous Stag Lord – prompting bellows of approval and thunderous applause loud enough to cover the noise of Navarro’s tankard shattering under the Paladin’s grip and spilling it’s contents across the table. After basking in the crowd’s adulation and taking advantage of the free drinks being offered to them by the grateful locals the party eventually drunk their fill and made their way back to their home for some much needed sleep.
The next morning the group woke to the smells of breakfast cooking and the familar noises of their housekeeper Geoff bustling around. Feeling somewhat the worse for wear they ate and replenished Geoff’s funds before discussing their plans.
“Err, will I be expecting you back for dinner then?” enquired Geoff with a slight edge to his voice
“Why yes that would be splendid” answered Navarro with his customary tact and consideration, before Luther realised that they’d left town without tellig Geoff the last time and apologising on the paladin’s behalf. Mollified Geoff began gathering their crockery and went about his business whistling.
The rest of the morning passed without incident, a meeting with Mayor Webster provided them with more gold and further promises of work in future – their expliots being key in the towns continued growth and prosperity. A visit to Durham Potts a local trader in the arcane saw them partially replenish their dwindling stocks of potions and more coin in return for some of their magical loot including the revelation that the Stag Lord’s sword was a very powerful artifact known as a Murder Sword which Durham promised to try and cleanse of it’s curse and sell it back to them if he succeeded. Gunnar also learned that the sword he’d aquired in the barrow was a powerful but unpredictable blade lost for many years and known only as the Sword of Chaos in legend. Enriched and enlightened the party split their efforts again, Iivan and Gunnar paying a visit to Silwind to update him on their exploration of the Royal graveyard and the wider Nearith Transit Network, the Obsidian Order representative securing a promise that should they ever visit the City of Libraries that they speak to him before setting off. Silwind also updated them on the state of play in to the local power struggles with Big Billy and his organisation, breaking Gunnar’s good mood when warning the half orc that Billy had placed a bounty on his head on top of the lingering presence of Peggsy and Kagey and rumours that Silvereye himself was asking for information on one of his former crew.
Meanwhile Balasar decided to visit a new shop which had opened in town, also trading in magical goods and a direct competitor to Durham Potts with whom they had already established a good working relationship. No one was entirely sure what happened to the dragonborn but he returned with strange tales of incestous Dwarves and strange smelling herbs. He also returned with a gift, a magical cloak what would always stream dramatically behind it’s owner. Navarro’s face split into a huge grin as the dragonborn flourished it for the group, before shattering like a stained glass window as the scorcerer handed the magical garmet to Luther as the others grinned at his discomfiture…