Sessions 218:

Day 5 - 6 of Sunsebb CY 576

Greetings from the hearth of the Foaming Mug Inn, where the shadows dance a little longer and the ale tastes of ancient dust. I am Vilma, and if you’ll lend me your ear—and perhaps buy me a pint—I’ll tell you of the Saviors of Orlane and their recent crawl through the damp, dark heart of the Barrowmaze.

It was just the fifth day of Sunset when this motley lot—Feno the elven fighter, Arnd the dwarven hammer-swinger, Gnorcia and Chiki (a pair of gnomes with more tricks than a wizard’s sleeve), Lhoss the high elven thief, and Nikki, our half-wood-elf druid—descended into the deep. They began by silencing a vile greater crypt shade that spoke in tongues too dark for honest ears. After the shade was put to rest, they spent hours sweeping through no fewer than eighty burial alcoves. Most were empty or filled with the crumbs of the poor, but inside a heavy granite sarcophagus, they discovered a black metal coffer brimming with 200 pieces of gleaming platinum and a mysterious green vial.

But the maze does not give up its treasures without a price. They stumbled upon a tomb sealed with stone and ancient runes, the final resting place of Rathgar, a fabled ranger hero of the Northern Reaches. While they left the hero to his peace, they were not so kind to the nine necromancers of Set they encountered further in. The air turned cold with the chanting of those dark priests, but the Saviors were faster. Once the necromancers were dispatched, the party saw fit to sever their heads and dump the remains into a nearby pit, claiming their runed daggers as trophies of the deed.

The true horror, however, came in the form of the Sons of Chaos—shambling, rotting things infested with rock grubs. A magical fear gripped the group, sending even the sturdiest fighters cowering into the corners. Poor little Chiki found himself fighting for his life as the disgusting worms burrowed into his very flesh, forcing him to dig them out with his own blade. They only survived by discovering the creatures' weakness: fire and holy water. The Saviors watched as the monsters popped and sizzled like grease on a hot griddle.

Before they beat a retreat back to the safety of Orlane, they caught a glimpse of a chamber that looked like a nightmare from the planes themselves: a pit of intense fire shooting geysers of flame toward the ceiling. They wisely chose to return to the inn to lick their wounds and clean the slime and worm remnants from their armor.

So, here they sit tonight, weary and mud-stained, while I tell their tale. They’ve already been to see Alan Clayborn to hunt for the missing mayor and are busy having their staves nickel-plated at the blacksmith. The Maze is still waiting for them, and the fires of that deep pit are still burning. Sleep well, Saviors, for the barrows never truly rest.