Campaign: Dominion of Adventure 27/1/2023

With the remaining zombies closing in from all sides one of the undead slashed Dorian with it’s foetid claws and dragged the Cleric down, bleeding heavily from their wounds. Luther raised his hand and magic flared towards the fallen Dwarf to heal them. Grunting with the effort Dorian heaved the corpse off themselves and stagged unsteadily to their feet, not seeing another of the zombies shambling up behind them and being hauled back down with the beast’s jaws snapping at their face. Still struggling to hold the left flank Gunnar slashed around him with his sword, slicing down two of the shambling horde before Balasar dashed past him to engulf another two in a searing blast of flame. Greg sent more healing power to Dorian before extending his hand toward another zombie, a barbed vine whipping out and slashing great chunks of rotten flesh from the beast.

Luther unleashed a thunderous blast of sound at the horde, shattering eardrums but the undead kept on coming, Nick, Navarro and Rocinate formed a ragged line to shield the weaker members of the party to buy them time to regroup. Dorian pushed themselves grimly back to their feet and called out to Helm, divine light errupted around the closest zombie, immolating it in holy fire as Gunnar hacked down another pair of the creatures as Balasar roasted yet more with his fire magic, filling the air with the stench of burning flesh. Greg pushed his way past Dorian and reached out a hand to gently caress the undead centaur, magic flared as he touched the creature and it fell lifeless at his feet. A quiet grunt of satisfaction behind him announced Iivan felling another zombie with a precise headshot before the rogue nimbly moved off in search of another target, his keen eyes picking out movement on the cliffs above them

“We need to leave!” he called out in warning, seeing another wave of hundreds, maybe thousands of zombies on the cliffs above them – the beasts were being drawn to the valley and threw themselves off the precipice heedlessly to try and get closer to their quarry. Heeding the Drow’s warning Navarro and Nick cut down the last of the immediate threats and the party gathered on the stone steps to plan their next move.

“This way men, we can use the monolith to follow my Master’s path” shouted Navarro

“Wait, wait – we need to heal first, just give me some time” panted Dorian, still clutching at his wounds.

“Very well, we heal then continue the chase” agreed Navarro, Dorian gathered the most injured of the Renegades into a loose circle by the monolith and began a low chant imploring Helm for aid while the others kept a close eye on the closing ring of zombies lurching, and dragging themselves across the broken ground toward the party. Dorian’s healing ritual lasted a few minutes, by the time they were complete and wounds had been tended to the fresh horde of zombies were closing in on the Renegades and had chocked the entrance to the canyon with a press of bodies.

“Ok, time to go” called Iivan, moving back from his position observing the oncoming horde and casting a magical spell into the monolith – as they hoped a runic symbol flared into life and they gathered together and he touched the rune – vanishing in a flash of light and experiencing the strange feeling of great speed before they emerged stumbling into a dark, stone floored chamber. Emerging into the stygian gloom from the Nearith portal was unsettling for all of them, but Luther was shaken to recognise the smooth clean lines of a Nearith Outpost – fear threatened to overwhelm him as his mind flashed back to the nightmarish rift demons that had attacked them the last time they’d been inside such a stucture. Iivan on the other hand seemed relieved to be out of the sunlight again and motioned for the others to remain quiet while he scouted the area, nodding and conscious that he was still badly hurt from the previous fight Hamlet invoked the Lady’s blessings and faded into the shadows, vanishing even to those of his companions blessed with darkvision.

“Is too dark to see” muttered Nick, reaching for a torch and lighting it with his tinderbox

“Put that fucking thing out!” whispered Luther sharply

“I need torch to see though eh” replied Nick

“Yes, but we don’t want to draw fucking attention with a big light do we” snapped Luther, his words dripping sarcasm

“it’s fine, I keep torch back here – cause no trouble”

“Just give me the damn thing” said Hamlet, snatching the torch from Nick and melding back into the darkness in a huff, an effect only slightly spoiled by what seemed to be a torch floating in mid air that the others pretended they couldn’t see.

“These tunnels are dead ends, but there’s a larger room up ahead with five other doors off it – we can move up to their at least” reported Iivan, silently slipping back into the passage with the others

“Ah, is ok, I have new plan don’t worry” said Nick, pulling his pet bat from under his cloak “go Bat-tholomew, fly!” and the winged rodent fluttered off into the larger room ahead, using the strange clicks it’s kind used in place of sight to navigate the confines of the tunnels. Nick’s eyes glazed over and he relayed what Bat-tholemew was seeing to the party

“Ok, so big room has weird circle thing on floor, store room off to left side – weird, has many things – like animals but not moving…trying to get better look now” he was cut off mid sentence and his eyes snapped back into focus “Ok, bat gone”

“Gone? Gone where?” asked Navarro looking at the strange man suspiciously

“Gone, is gone – to see Helm yes, dead” replied Nick casually “Is ok, he come back again – ha! I make joke he come bat again yes?”

Navarro rolled his eyes at the his liutenant’s new charge and his lack of discipline and reached for his horn, only to curse silently as he realised it was gone “Forward men, let’s see this place with our own eyes” and proceeded to march determinedly forward, he enteres a large rectangular chamber clad in the same smooth stone walls that seemed to be the hallmark of Nearith construction, but this time small light sources began to flicker into life as he entered the chamber proper, with the added light he noticed the walls bore some kind of faded mural, and there was indeed a glowing circle of runes in the centre of the floor. The very clean floor…remembering their last visit to a Nearith outpost his eyes flicked upwards to search the ceiling for any recessed where one of the strange gelatinous creatures might be lurking, but his questing eyes saw nothing amiss and he resumed his exploration, noting the shatttered and broken remains of what appeared to be large armoured figures – likely one of the statue guardians they’d encountered previously he thought as the others fanned out around him.

Luther and Dorian moved forward to examine the circle on the floor, Gunnar following them – partly out of curiousity (as it had reminded him of the unexplored hole they’d found in the Halfling settlement weeks ago) and partly to shield them from any unseen dangers.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you” whispered a familiar voice as Luther approached the runic circle, startled he looked around wildly and saw soemthing impossible. Leaning casually by the door in the far right corner of the room stood Fayd

“Fayd?” asked Luther disbelievingly, but Fayd put his finger to his lips and winked back at him

“Fayd? He’s…. gone, Luther” replied Dorian looking at the young elf askew

“But, he’s right there” quavered Luther pointing to the imposing yet relaxed figure, Dorian peered in the direction and saw nothing but broken statuary and the strange smooth walls.

“He can’t be man, we buried him” whispered a confused Gunnar

“He’s right there!” said Luther “he said not to touch the circle”

“Yes, and don’t make any noise – the things that live here will come” answered Fayd in a voice only the bard could hear

“Maybe it’s his ghost, keeping an eye on you?” offered Gunnar sympathetically

“No, he’s there – as real as you or me” answered Luther testily “He’s warning us to keep quiet in case we disturb the things that live here”

“Rift demons?” asked Gunnar warily, eyeing the chamber carefully

Luther didn’t reply for a moment as he watched Fayd straighten up, smile and wave a farewell before turning and walking through the door and out of sight.

“He didn’t say, he’s gone in there” answered Luther, setting off toward the door determindly, Dorian and Gunnar shared a look then followed the bard across the chamber.

Meanwhile the others were still examining the room cautiously, well most of them were – Navarro was striding purposefully toward the closest doorway on the left, the one leading to the strange room where Nick’s bat had been killed. Proceeding with what he considered sufficient caution the knight entered the room and tried to make sense of what he saw, numerous animnals stood frozen in various poses, teeth or claws beared and ready – fearing he was witnessing the victims of a medusa Navarro moved to the closest of the vignettes and examined it, relieved to find the creature was not petrified but seemed to have been posed and stuffed much like the hunting trophies some rich aristocrats liked to collect. He recognised most of the creatures in the frozen tableau either from his own experience or from his teachers in the Order and tales of heroic figures from the past, but there was a strange four legged beast that he couldn’t identify, moving closer he saw one of the beast’s strange tentacle like appendengaes quiver slightly, he froze but then the beast suddenly leapt at him

“DEMONS!” he called in warning to his men as he swung up his shield to parry the beasts attack

The others span in alarm at his shout, but flaring portals around them disgorging more of the weird looking creatures that quickly moved to attack. Snapping into action Iivan drew a blade and rushed to the right to meet the charge of one of the rift hounds head on, an act that surprised many of his companions, who by now were far more familiar with his “tactical withdrawls” in combat. Nick outstretched his hand and a blade magically appeared in his grasp, muttering an incantation to himself he then vanished, only to reappear behind the creature facing off against Iivan and began to slash at it’s hind quarters. Gunnar tried to shield Luther and Dorian as they retreated to the stairwell before surging back into combat with, his sword flaring with magical energy and gifting him almost supernatural speed as he cut deep wounds in it’s flank. Balasar charged across the chamber to try and join Luther and Dorian, flames blasting from his clawed hands as he ran. Hamlet was close on his heels but another of the rift hounds pounced on his back and dragged him to the ground unconsious. Weighing up his options Greg seemed to grow larger and the air around him was filled with swirling motes as he waded into combat to try and save Hamlet.

The clash of steel and claw echoed round the chamber as Luther and Dorian threw healing magic at their comrades while Gunnar hacked at the lone demon by the broken statues. Stood with them Balasar directed more sorcerous blasts of fire at the beasts, carefully saving his attacks for moments when he could ensure he wouldn’t catch the beleagured Hamlet and Greg in the flames. Greg was surrounded and taking grevious punishment, but somehow the man shrugged off the damage being inflicted on him and bellowed his defiance, the swirling motes surrounding him were thicker now and seemed to choke the beasts as they approached to try and finish him off. Navarro was also taking massive punishment trapped in the tight entranceway, but his sword glowed with power as he smote his demonic foes, sending one yelping and reeling from the fray. Iivan and Nick finished their cornered adversary and rushed to aid Greg and Hamlet, Nick passing through the runic circle in his haste despite Luther’s shouted warnings and began to glow with an eldritch light – though this didn’t appear to phase him as he pressed his attack. Gunnar finally dispatched his own hound and satisfied that Luther, Dorian and Balasar were safe moved to help the others. Greg finally succumbed to the blows raining down on him and fell to the floor near Hamlet’s unmoving body, by the stairwell Luther and Dorian shared a look then channeled their healing powers to bring both the fallen Renegades back to their senses. Not satisfied with that Dorian then unleashed holy fire at one of the other beasts, Helm’s roiling power disintergrating the foul hellspawn leaving nothing but charred ash in it’s wake. With the tide beginning to turn in their favour at last the Renegades pressed their advantage and managed to dispatch the remaining creatures in a tightening ring of steel.

Exhausted, they hauled their fallen comrades up and saw to their wounds as best they could whilst Navarro led the others in a search of the surrounding chambers, finding little of interest aside from what appeared to be a portrait gallery of some kind, an old battered chest and – most strangely an elegant and well preserved chariot.

“The chariot is mine!” called Navarro as soon as he layed eyes upon it, Gunnar shrugged and went back to wiping the demonic ichor from his blade carefully.

“What the hell is that doing down here?” asked Iivan eyeing the doorways and noting that there was no way the chariot could have fitted through the strange sliding doors

Navarro ignored him, and approached the chariot almost reverentially as the others gathered in the room with him

“She’s beautiful” cooed Navarro, in an uncharacteristic display of warmth as he ran his mailed hand along the chariot’s sleek lines “not Vilmean admittedly, but you can’t deny the skill of whoever made this beauty” he continued

“Yes, er she’s got lovely….wheels” interjected Dorian, giving one what they hoped was a knowledgable kick

“Oh yes, the old 8 spokes were always superior in cornering to the old 6 spokers – you have a cradtsman’s eye Dorian” replied Navarro, still somewhat lost in his assessment of their find.

“Is good we find new cart eh, replace the one we leave outside” chimed in Nick

“CART?!” bellowed the outraged Paladin “This is no mere cart, this is a finely honed chariot

“Ok Ok, so we not call it cart” replied Nick placatingly

“Indeed not” snorted Navarro, before turning back to the chariot and placing his face near the smoothly polished wood “we shall call her Sexerella” he whispered lovingly as he eyed his prize adoringly.