Session 206: Battle at the old tomb

Day 25 of Ready'reat CY 576

Sit a spell, dearie, and listen to old Vilma. The shadows in the Barrowmarsh have been restless lately, and the whispers coming back to Orlane are enough to make your hair stand on end. A band of adventurers—you know the sort, half-brave and half-baffled—found themselves in the thick of it, wrestling with things that should have stayed buried.

It was a cluttered, rotting mess down there. The air turned thick enough to chew, thanks to the foul stench of a ghast that left even the sturdiest elves gagging and clutching their stomachs. Poor Sergius, a stout dwarf if I ever saw one, found himself frozen stiff by a ghoul’s touch, then later soured by a huecava's poison. He had to gulp down a potion of neutralized poison just to keep his knees from buckling.

But oh, the magic! Armatzi, a cleric of no small power, appeared on the field as if the gods themselves had dropped him there. With one flash of his holy symbol, he sent a horde of ghouls and juju zombies fleeing into the dark, though they got themselves all bottlenecked at the door like sheep in a narrow chute. He even pulled the paralysis right out of the others bones, though the shorter folk seemed to have a particularly hard time of it.

And that Gnorcia! A slip of a thing, really, but she has the heart of a mountain lion. She was seen leaping onto the back of a huecava, trying to drive her blade home while the beast flailed about. While she was playing rodeo with the undead, Kyro was busy being a sharpshooter, pinning those juju zombies to the shadows with arrows that bit deep.

The tomb itself is a puzzle of sinking doors and shifting shadows. Little Gnorcia—bless her sneaky heart—crept ahead while invisible to the dead and saw a glittering pile of treasure to the north. But don't you go dreaming of gold just yet; she also spotted big, scary zombies lurking in the alcoves, waiting for a fresh meal to walk through those strange doors that sink right into the ground.

The battle isn't over, not by a long shot. They’ve cleared the entryway, but there are more zombies stirring and doors bursting open, revealing even more horrors. It’s like a scene from those old tales—an army of darkness rising to meet the living.

Vilma will keep her ears to the ground. If you’re heading out that way, mind the pressure plates and keep your blessings close. The dead don’t like visitors, and they certainly don’t like to share their glitter.