Content Warning: Allusions to torture and & Sacrifice, injury to eyes, blood & gore. R-Rated for sure.
If she paused and tuned into the stone she could hear and feel much. And let go of much. For a moment she was a child again, on the trip her father took her to the emerald and alexandrite mine in the lower marshlands of Dumar. Two glorious weeks of walking the dykes, fishing in the rivers, and listening to the soft tapping of jewel-miner's hammers as she stood in the mines with her father and he taught her to hear the spirits of the stone. "The old Dwarf" the miners called him in a mix of amusement and awe. So attuned to the stones he seemed to have the same knack for reading the rocks of the stoutfolk. It was a joyous time in her childhood. And as she focused back on the world around her, she caught herself smiling in spite of herself. At first a nostalgic grin, and then a huntresses grin... she had heard them. The mutter of men, the grunt of an ape, the creak of leather. Subtle vibrations in the stone suggested a number to her... although that was a pure intuition that would be fatal to trust.
She held her hand in a signal they had arranged last night. Crossed fingers - an ambush ahead. Then a turn of her wrist told them "I will scout ahead."
Shuttering her lantern to its lowest she crept low to the edge of the chamber, and peered into the gloom. Only it wasn't perfect gloom this time. To the right she could see a collection of men in ratty clothing and leathers, faces pained with bizarre markings crouched around a lantern of their own, muttering to one another. So there were the human cultists.
She slipped back and used an array of hand-signals and one-word whispers to fill her allies in on what she had seen. A plan was formed swiftly and silently; they had anticipated guards or an ambush in the first chamber, and were not disappointed.
Behind the Screen: I used the oracle to determine what the Ape-men and cultists would do in response to the initial attack, and got an hourglass and an eye. Wait and see seemed like a pretty good option, but also felt almost like cheating, so I determined to interpret it "lie in wait, set a watch." I decided that all the cultists I had pre-stocked on my dungeon location table, and one of the Ape-men would wait, as there needed to be two ape-men to protect the Necronomicon to ensure claiming it would feel like a challenge.
Neela tried hard not to hold her breath as she crawled from stalactite to stalactite, moving in a wide arc around the ambush. She only allowed herself to move through spaces where the ghost of the cultists' light let her see the suggestion of the floor, letting her fingertips guide her step. Somehow, she got behind the monsters. She took a full minute to draw her blade, and then she waited a few more moments to calm her screaming nerves before she threw a stone off towards the North end of the room.
The clatter caused all of the cultists to turn their head as one. In a split second the chamber flooded with the thunder of armored feet and the sound of Jonas's voice in a bold incantation. The ape thing screamed an alarm and raised its tentacles as it tried to figure out where the attack was coming from. It roar faded in confusion as the twisted once-men around him all sank unconscious to the ground It didn't have time to muster a defense as Holden emerged into the firelight, black, rubbery tentacles erupting from his back.
Even as it turned to face the oncoming shape of Holden, Neela howled a shrill wordless cry, grabbing the beast's fur to launch herself to its shoulders before driving her blade in to its upper back. She rode it down as her weight tore a rent Into the creatures hide and muscle. It's belly exposed as it arched it's back allowed Mord, barreling out of the shadows, to crash into its guts, knocking the wind out of it
She rolled clear, her body slick with gore as the tentacles erupting from Holden's flesh began coiling and crashing with the scaly limbs of the beast..
Mord was not so swift to evade the churn of limbs. A great, scaly limbs crashed into his him, sending him sprawling . His head crashed into a stalagmite with a vile crunch and a splash of blood.
Tarrant, slow to the fight rushed to the warrior fending stray limbs off with the rapier coiled in his own tentacle as he placed a healing hand on the fallen brute. The payers filled the foul air for just a moment with a hint of incense as Mord's bloody skull mended.
Still in the gloom beyond the dark, Jonas drew on his inner reserves for a more potent version of his spell. The Islands clawed invisibly at his soul, but obeyed. The Ape-thing swooned and then collapsed, as Holden's tentacles dragged it to the floor.
Pale with rage and disoriented, Holden staggered to his feet and hefted Scarlett. The sword moaned obscenely as he drove the sword through the creature's ribcage. He spat on its corpse as he laid about it not the slumbering corpses. The more blood he spilled the greater the heat and strange erotic sensations surged from the blade until fury was replaced with a confused heat an he sat panting while Tarrant dispatched the few left alive with prayers for the wise judgement of their souls.
Behind the Screen: This battle was swift and brutal. Mord was knocked down to -1hp. The dice were kind, and he suffered no permanent damage. They get a lot less friendly from here on in...
Once they had caught their breath, they retraced their steps from the previous foray, through the wreaking bed chamber where cages of bone held the nests of the ape things. Through their bloody kitchen where human flesh still hung on hooks, Beyond The spiderwebs, and into the strange chamber where alien glyphs twisted and danced on the walls in the lamp light.
They lit a second lantern here, and set it to help them watch the entrances as they made themselves comfortable well Jonas muttered and sketched the runes he saw, murmuring spells to improve his comprehension
"Yes. Yes.. it's as I suspected. With this spell I should be able to unlock any lock, open any door..."
Time ticked by to the sound of distant dripping. Occasional strange noises echoed in the dark. Some sounding uncannily like human wailing, or perilously near whispering.
They had no idea how long they sat there as Jonah scribbled and scrawled, but it was enough time for Nila to wring the blood out of her clothes in the shadows. A week spent as a free woman had restored a desire for dignity and privacy.
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She was still behind the rocks when she heard the sounds of rasping on the stone. She whispered a short hiss to her allies who put hands in tentacles on the hilts of weapons.
The first shining pair of lamplike eyes seemed to hang in the air for an age before a gurgling whisper in an unfamiliar tongue hissed through the air more huge sets of luminous eyes began appearing in the dark beyond
Tarrant shifted his leg slowly, getting ready for an attack, his tentacles stretching for the hit of his sword
"Peace..." A voice gurgled. A stench of fish and seaweed carried on a voice like the trickle of water in a lightless, frigid prison.
Clawed and webbed hands shimmering with grey scales came open-palmed into the light. The rest of the being that followed was a perverse imitation of the human form. Too long, too sinuous, patterned in scales of midnight blue and pale silver,. The head was the highest atrocity, however. Framed in translucent find was the blunt face of some deep-sea horror
"We are here as allies "
Tarrant's eyes narrowed as he lifted their second lantern. The creature wore a little of fish hides studded with shells. Jewelry of electric shimmered around it's wrists an throat.
"Allies, you say? How?"
"We were told of your strike on these caves by Kadoz. She is honoured as Mother Hydra's voice-from-above.
"These beasts feed on our kin. They stole our lore. We have come seeking our chance to feast on those who feast upon us. That is the Way of the Wise.
"You have diminished them. Made them your prey; we join your hunt You serve the voice-from-above; we aid your service. That is also the Way of the Wise."
Tarrant gave a thoughtful nod.
"I would rather allies than more does here. Our friend studies the runes. Let us parlay and establish terms."
Behind the Screen: Older editions of Dungeons & Dragons can surprise you. When I rolled a random encounter halfway through Jonas' attempt to copy Knock onto his spellbook I thought that the party was fucked. Six Sahuagin, even out of water is a bad scene.
But then I rolled NPC reaction and found that they were friendly. What? Really?! It took me a moment to figure out how to play it before I decided that Sahuagin make perfectly good Deep One analogues (despite Kuo-Toa being more clearly designed for the role.
I decided that Kadoz had been speaking to some fellow Hydra-worshippers from underneath the town. Suddenly, Broken Cliff got to be a much creepier town. Good
When Jonas finally shut his spellbook, both man and sea creatures alike jumped. The Sons of Hydra, as they called themselves, had wanted little except to free any living kin they had and the hearts of the Ape-men. Neela had reservations, but kept her counsel. Mord had made wisecracks during negotiations; when the Sons laughed with him, he had discarded his.
They set forward with the two groups interwoven. For now it was easier to trust each other than watch out for backstabbing.
Together, they chose to search a gloomy side passage and found a small knot of tunnels that offered them little but a dead ed. The cavern twisted and tangled here, the ceiling crept ever lower, The white noise seemed a dull roar here.
After a few twists and turns they turned into an alcove where a spout of sea water occasionally burst from a hole in the wall with a leaden thud as unseen waves battered the floor from below Pale crabs scuttled about in the basin at the foot of the crack. One of the sons made a gurgle of elation and rushed forward followed by two of his fellows.
"We grow dry," their speaker croaked in explanation.
Neela let her eye wander just long enough to spot the chartreuse bubo on the ceiling above and shout a warning before it exploded in a shower of acidic slime. She clutched her own face in memory of the pain as she watched the Sons writhe.
Jonas and Tarrant rushed ahead, wrapping hands in cloth to pull the screaming creatures away from the sludge and douse them in sea water. By the time they saved the first, the other two were dead, their shining skulls mostly stripped of flesh and smoking
"Should've expected more of those," Mord grunted. He felt I'll and dizzy himself. The stench had made his stomach lurch. The bravado gave him at least a ghost of a sense of control
He held his tongue as he watched the Sons stop to pull the teeth from the dead.
Another few paces found them briefly in a chamber that admitted light of a cool grey day in from a hole in the ceiling.
Directly beneath it a body knelt in a pool of slime. The flesh and clothing had calcified: turned into a purple flaking material that was slowly flaking apart like a log long since reduced to ash.
The walls were covered in a porous stone of the same bruised hue. Jutting out in places were shining spines of crystal.
"I've read about this," Jonas said, kneeling at the pool's edge. "The toxins from the Putrescence if you are exposed to too much of it when it's fresh can petrify you."
Neela nodded. "They say the crystals on this island are formed in the heart of living things killed by it " She approached the wall removing tools from her belt
"They also say that the crystals can explode if you mishandle them," Jonas warned .
Neela only spoke again as she carefully cut the first crystal free. "I have spent my whole life cutting stones with my livelihood on the line." She hefted a huge indigo crystal in her palm for a moment before wrapping it up in an oilcloth. "And I can't get off these islands until I find the right ones."
Behind the Screen: in Islands of the Purple-Haunted Putrescence, crystals have incredible magic powers, but are unstable. Most characters have a chance of accidentally causing a crystal to blow up if mishandled. When generating characters, I decided to make Neela's ability that she already knows all about the crystals, including how to safely harvest them. After rolling that she has a Lapidary background and needs a crystal to save her daughter, it seemed a very sensible choice. I randomly determined that Neela needs a Violet crystal. The moment she gets one, she is on the next ship out... For now
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Neela was just putting away the final crystal when a rush of heat, perfumed air, the babel if talking voices, and strange equaling noises came surging from deeper in the cavern beyond the skylight and slime pit. The cacophony faded in moments.
Holden straightened up and cast his strange, shimmering eyes to the back of the cavern.
"What is it?" Jonas asked the once-priest.
"A crack in spacetime. Thus one is old, intermittent. Tiny doorways open up just for a few moments every few hours."
"How can you tell?"
"When I served Fate, she gave me the power to sense the holes in reality. Since my..." He froze as he tried to find a word
"Foray?" the wizard offered.
"Since my foray, I see them, clear as day. And when I see them. I understand them."
"Is it dangerous?"
"Nothing comes through here but the trash of some other world."
They walked towards the place where Holden gazed. In the gloom they saw a towering heap of detritus. Paper, mostly. But scattered with other replica.
"Do you suppose we could find anything interesting?" Jonas asked. Holden merely shrugged and gazed off into space above the pile. The Sons held well back and warded the area with their clawed hands.
Jonas exhaled his nerves and waded in. At least their might be a trinket for Benne... Neela and Mord joined him.
"Are you not going to try to close this rift as well?" Tarrant asked watching as their allies picked through the rubbish
"Why?*
"You once told me that it was the will of your Goddess that you close portals."
"I do not serve the Goddess anymore. Her teachings have given me nothing but pain and folly."
"I see..." Tarrant considered the sword on his hip with silent conflict.
"Keep your sword to yourself, Tarrant. I am no witch for your hunt. After my... Foray... I am a man without fate. All my prophecies are fulfilled. Free to do what I choose. I would be an idiot to choose another master, Lawful or Chaotic.
"Besides, didn't your deity choose to... Bring me back?"
Tarrant relaxed. "perhaps there are plans for you yet."
Holden said nothing. He merely stared unblinking into the rift only he could see.
A moment later, the other three spread out the strange collection of objects they had decided to being to better light.
A set of bright boxes of another resin, smooth and brightly coloured full of objects that looked like an assortment of bombs, candles, and incense sticks
A strange hand cart made mostly of cloth and steel with mechanisms to fold it up, and a good to shelter it's contents.
A heavy vest of leaden plates under canvas with no visible way of strapping it shut. ("Strange armor.")
A battered red metal box with inner shelves full of fine steel tools and hardware.
A hand-sized box with many buttons and indicators with tiny bits of Clockwork and reels within.
A blank resin tablet leaking iron filings from a hole
A purple velvet bag with gold stitching full of dice of strange shapes and sizes.
A pair of tiny shears of steel, rusted and dulled.
A pile of books in meticulous, uniform runes with detailed markings, bright illustrations of mostly young humans in bright and strange clothing, and images so real they looked alive. In one of those which had been hollowed out, Jonas found a small bag of a strange clear material, with a roll of green paper sheets and two chalky tablets.
"What kind of world would come from?" Neela asked.
"Let me find out" Jonas replied as he prepared to again cast the spell that let him understand any tongue.
Has he murmured the spell, the islands energy shifted and suddenly he let out a gasp as knowledge flooded into his mind. His eyes glowed brightly enough to illuminate the heap of papers and a junk beyond for a moment.
He reached down and opened a book, flipping a few pages, then sit down, then set it down and looked as another. Then another. He leafed through them with fever. Even plunged himself headlong back into the junk to retrieve a few more.
"I've been blessed!" He explained. "The spell went wrong. Or, it went right, more to the point. I can understand their language perfectly. And even understanding it has expanded my knowledge. They have words for things we can't even conceive of."
He babbled for a moment in a fast and grating tongue.
"These books! Knowledge of alchemy, mathematics, natural philosophy! Means of gaining more information. Music. Poetry of another world!
"With some of these books I could change the way people live on the mainland. There's knowledge here on how to cure infections. Lore on how species come about. They are from a world with no magic, there only philosophy can solve their problems."
Jonas madly stuffed books into his pack as the sons and his fellow adventurers watched on in amusement.
It is all well and good," said Tarrant, "That you have just made such a discovery. And perhaps you were right about the scope of it. Or perhaps your spell has only gone wrong as you say. What remains unchanged is that we are in a dangerous place and on a mission for a much different book. Compose yourself for now, Jonas. You can explain it all over beer when we are out of here and alive."
Jonas vibrated with excitement: "Alive! Yes! I don't think I've ever felt so alive. So much knowledge. The people of their world take it for granted. And yet, there's only a fraction of, say, the knowledge of the builders of the great vessels we have stranded on the shores here. So much left to learn..."
He took a deep breath.
"You are right. Of course. I need time to think things through. To... To sort it all out and figure out what to do with what I have learned in these books."
Behind the Screen: When spells are cast on The Islands of Purple-Haunted Putrescence, there is a chance that a magic user will not lose it from their memory. In fact, there is a good chance that they will experience a sudden surge where the magic works better than usual. There is also an equal chance it will go a little haywire.
Jonas rolled such an exceptional success on casting read magic, that I decided to grant him permanent written understanding of the English language.
The portal here is a portal to an American High School where random text books, papers, and trash from lockers occasionally falls through. I forget what table of random weirdness I got it off of. The items are selected from the Ultimate Grand Unified Loot Table found on reddit. I rolled for 10 pieces of random crappy modern loot. Two tabs of acid and $270 was the most interesting item. Although, two plastic kit boxes full of fireworks has potential...
A character living in a medieval or early modern world with their hands on a stack of high school science textbooks could potentially revolutionize every aspect of life on their world. At this point when running this adventure, I was dying to see what would come of Jonas's newfound scientific knowledge. I was hoping for some Army of Darkness scenarios.
At this point in the campaign, I was very glad that I was still using The Dozen Dooms' experience system. Trying to calculate the value of this loot could be tricky.
After a stop for water, the group began cautiously retracing their steps. Passing through the chamber with the grim bone tokens, they entered a chamber where pale walls seemed to shiver in the light and then exploded into motion as thousands of silverfish the length of Neela's forearm scattered I to pores in the rock.
Beyond that, they came to a chamber where a large sinkhole in the floor was surrounded by rope, nets, block, tackle, and crates of huge, eyeless crabs .The Sons of Hydra indicated that it was the chamber where they had come in.
"Here, the wretched ones net their crabs and The Sons and Daughters of Hydra alike. These hooks and chains have murdered our people."
The creatures set about demolishing the fishing equipment while the humans took a moment to rest and ear
Picking through the wreckage when the fish-mem were done yielded little of value.
The stench of fish, brine, and animal dung in this grotto gave way was overwhelmed by the stench of unwashed bodies and decay as they followed a higher more open passage into a chamber scattered with bones and torture implements.
Along one wall wretched and filthy pole: a male an a female halfling, a human woman, two elf elf-men, and a pair of half orcs, as well as a pair of Daughters of Hydra were coffled to the wall by modern chains and locks. All fresh blooded, beaten, and naked.
The Sons rushed to their wounded kin hissing and gurgling while Tarrant checked on the humans VES and halflings. One of the elves and one of the half-orcs were already dead, the elf decomposing. The others bore terrible injuries that left Jonas retching.
When the woman woke up screaming it was all Tarrant could think to do to clap his hand over her mouth and pray in hopes she would recognize him as a servant of the new gods.
It was Neela who plucked up the courage to actually speak to her in a calm, reasoned tone
"Shhh, shhh. Shut up, Tarrant... Shhh. Listen. I know you are scared and you are hurt, okay. But it's almost over. We are going to get you out of here. You just have to calm down and wait.
"That's right," she told a battered and toothless man near her, "Out of here. And if I can, off this Island."
She fished out a her wallet of picks and began working on the woman's chains. After a moment, she cursed and tried the elf's. And then, to the surprise of the Sons of Hydra, she tried a Daughter's. Then cursed.
"These are Martell Company locks. Way beyond me. Mord, can you break these chains?"
Mord snarled as he attempted to pull them from the wall.
"No good. They are too strong."
The woman whimpered.
Neela put a hand on her shoulder, then pressed a dagger into her palm.
"Listen. You hide this. We killed a lot of those bastards. Maybe all of them. Six of the big monkeys, too. I am going to find the keys and get you out of here. If any of them are left to come back, you put this in their eye. Or if we can't come back, try chipping that chain loose... But I intend to come back for that, okay? You are going to give it back when you are a free woman."
Jonas did the same to the frightened halfling man. "In case she misses."
Neela met the eyes of the Sons. "Everyone is getting out of here."
Behind the Screen: I decided to do one batch attempt at lock picking for Neela for these locks... And she failed. Which means she can't try again until she gains a level. Same for Holden's attempt to break the chains.
I randomly rolled to see which room the keys were in in this point and gave them a 1 in 6 chance of being hidden. They wound up in room 7 in plain sight.
The further in they went the more smooth and worked the cavern wall became. A few moments after leaving the prisoners, now weeping, they found a chamber where the stone walls had been worked over centuries into an obscenity
Wailing faces, warped and distorted to vile and subhuman mockeries wept and drooled acidic chartreuse slime into bowls shaped like supine, screaming figures spread-eagled on the floor.
Between two slobbering octopoid icons, illuminated by The faint glow of the sludge an altar of geometry that was alien impossible, and obscene, was covered in unusual injects, and topped with a skeleton stained bright yellow by the sludge that had recently stripped it bare.
The Altar slithered upwards towards a cartouche of writhing glyphs.
Holden was the only one so unmoved by it that he focused on the objects on hand. A fine suit of chainmail sized for someone around three feet tall, ornate leather boots an an ancient style, a scroll in a case of flayed, tattooed flesh, and an ornate bottle with a fey motif. He collected them up to show his allies where they need not look at the altar
"It pains me to ask," Tarrant said, placing hand on Jonas's shoulder, "but your spells for reading strange tongues have been most useful today. Could you find the courage to read that tablet? It may have knowledge we need."
Jonas took a breath and forced his eyes to focus on the glyphs, away from the bizarre non-shape of the altar and spoke his incantations. He had drank deeply of that well today. The spell practically surged through him causing light to pour from his eyes and explode out as swirling wisps of light.
Disoriented, Jonas staggered until he fell at the foot of the Altar and turned his blazing eyes on the runes. For a moment he was transfixed as he absorbed what he read, and then, as it's comprehension came, he vomited and wept for a few moments before the spell wore off and the light faded.
"Jonas, are you alright?" Neela helped him to his feet.
"Would that I could forgot what I just read. It will haunt me. But... I will recover. I need to be out of this hateful place."
They all nodded and headed down another passage.
Neela was first in to the next chamber, with her lamp hooded low. This chamber was arranged eerily like a temple with pews arranged before a grand slab of bloody stone below a pulpit and altar that held a single large book chained to it. Lamps of glowing sludge in glass bowls stood on talk stands to either side of it, leaving it in a pool of sickly light. To either side of it the Ape-men slouched at attention.
She signaled the party back do that they could plan their next move.
The Ape-men were standing guard, but had no expectation of being attacked. When the humans and Sons alike poured into the room they stood dumbfounded as their attackers fanned out and dotes arrows and crossbow bolts, or hurled coral-tipped javelins at the one nearest the Northern edge of the room. Even as it howled when one of the missiles pierced it's flesh, Jonas completed the spell he had beaten shouting by way of announcing their presence.
Strands of sticky white Sledge sprayed from his palms filling the chamber around the Necronomicon and it's pulpit. No matter how mighty the beasts were the silk is spelled conjured as far as stronger. And they were held fast as more missiles rained down.
Spears, bolts, arrows continue to fly as Holden walked towards the wounded beast and stretched his arms out. His own strange black robbery tentacle snaked through the webs and caught hold of its neck. After a few moments of wrenching and twisting he tore the creature's head free to dance from a spider web line.
The group shifted position as a rain down missiles on the second enraged beast. Strands of supernaturally thick silk trained like a perverse instrument as it broke binding after binding. Holden needed to pull back, move around the phone as the missiles caught in the web is often as they fell on the creature.
Then, finally, it tore free. Leaving scales, for, and a bloody trail behind it. It crashed through webbing and lashed out it's tentacles at Holden where he had circled around. The two thrashed and writhe. Holden screamed as the rubbery flash of one of his tentacles finally split dripping black ichor and causing him to scream in terror and disbelief. He had not imagined they were truly a part of him.
Responding to his house Tarrant rushed in between the two of them throwing himself through the air rapier first. He got caught in mid-air by the strands I came to a stop close enough to thrust his rapier once through the creatures throat before he was catapulted backwards.
Giving up, the creature grew living, dangling like a perverse marionette in Jonas' web.
With a few simple words, the young magician caused the web to liquefy into trails of glittering slime around the floor of the alien church. Letting me eight men slumped to the floor limp.
Man and son then stood by patiently as Neela checked the pulpit for signs of traps and curses.
Jonas watched Holden with intent curiosity further back from his fellows, watching as his void-warped companion rubbed his shoulder where the wounded tentacle had emerged and then retracted.
Behind the Screen: this was a fast and furious battle. And one that goes to prove just how much spells were game changers in the earlier TSR versions of Dungeons & dragons. The webs held the eight things for seven rounds. That was more than enough to riddle one with holes and then decapitated at the last moment with one of Holden Critical Hits
By the time the second one was free it had failed them around as soon as ready to run. Parents killed it with a parting shot.
None had their eyes on Jonas as a bulk of yellow jelly dripped down like an icicle from the ceiling: it covered his head and shoulders, then spilled down his body as a bulk of living acidic goo.
It took several moments for him to make a single strangled sound. By the time the company turned around they could only watch in horror as his face, showing a mix of shock, terror, and erotic elation, dissolved in the translucent jelly, leaving only a grinning skull behind.
Holden unleashed a terrible alien screech as this jaw fell open to reveal a distended mouth full of blackness and stars instead of flesh behind luminous, jagged crystalline teeth. The jelly was ripped from Jonas and pulled into the howling maw, and from there, into an otherworldly void.
Tarrant and Mord stared back and forth between Holden as he stood, holding the Necronomicon in his hand, staring into space, and the smoking, half-dissolved corpse of Jonas. Then, finally, Tarrant sank to his knees and prayed.
"Universal Architect, I beg you as you have done before, save this man's life. Show us your hand and your favor. Give Jonas back to us."
The body lay unmoving.
Eventually, Neela began stripping his pack and gravity rod.
"Wait! What are you doing?!"
"If Jonas was right about what is in those other books, they could save lives. And we will need his magic book to get the lore out.
"Besides. Benne is there to carry on his studies I think she deserves what is in there.".
Behind the Screen: Neela searching for traps led to the turnover of the turn. I rolled a random encounter with an Ochre Jelly that got surprise on the party. Given that I had established Jonas as a socially awkward loner, I imagined he would be the easiest outlying target.
Jonas was nearly dead on the first round. In fact, his survival came down to initiative. The party lost, and Jonas was reduced well past his death threshold before they could act.
Holden has a power from my Voidwarped class that allows him to capture, then slowly disintegrate one enemy in a pocket universe. Like a living, outsized bag of devouring. In theory a Voidwarped could disgorge the victim if he does so before the 1d8 days it has before dissolution. It's a tragedy that he didn't get to use it sooner.
Jonas was my favorite PC by a fair margin. Sadly, the dice had plans of their own. What point is their to playing this game if I refuse to follow the rules?
At least in Benne I have a ready substitute.
Numbly, the group pressed deeper in after wrapping Jonas in a cloth and creating a litter for the corpse. Following a well-worn path, they can't to a partially-flooded chamber where a sinkhole below was closed off with a rusty grate. A desk, a wardrobe, a bed, and an armchair all sat here of a natural shelf creating an office of sorts. All arranged about a black stone the size of a man.
Neela set about scouring the furniture for traps or treasures. What she found was a set of keys with the Martell Company device engraved on the fob. She allowed herself a moment of excitement. At least she could keep that promise.
As Neela scoured for treasure, Holden gazed ant the great black crystal. As he did so, strange wonders opened up to him: a subterranean ziggurat full of the bones of forgotten beings... a city of steel wheeling through space full of sin and wickedness... An island covered in fog and giant leeches the size of mountains... A black pyramid alone on a desert under fuchsia sky...
*A seeing stone," one of the Sons gurgled. "It shows you much if you allow it. Or it shows you what you wish if you have the Will..."
Neela shot up and walked over to it, placing her hands on its surface.
"Can it show my Layla?"
The image shimmered, and then changed to a red-headed girl, their, drawn, and pale lying in a bed. She trembled as she spooned soup from a wooden bowl on a tray.
Neela pressed her face to the crystal and murmured a promise.
"We need to go." Holden reminded her.
She had to be guided with a gentle hand back to the black church.
When they returned the prisoners wept and prayed as Neela unlocked the chains that held them. Some, including the Daughters of Hydra, were barely alive. It took time to feed and water them then get them back on their feet.
The elf-man, Anor offered to help Carrie Jonas, if his dead friend might join him on the litter. Steko, the half-orc, recently deprived of his teeth cackled and mocked the way the other elf had given in so easy to cultist torture. Neela made a note to be far from him before letting her guard down.
The woman who had been given the dagger earlier Wrthiva, asked in grim detail about the fate of some of the Human cultists by description. She took joy and not hearing they had died helpless, and had developed a feral grin once free with a blade in her hand. She was caught my however, disappointed to hear that not all the occultists were accounted for. She pledged to return and cleanse the rest of the temple.
The halflings were in less fighting trim. Hardo, the halfling man moved with nervous energy. Whatever he had been subjected to had turned his hair white. But, he may not sound as he moved, and it was clear that if anyone were to spot a threat it would likely be him. His sister-in-law, Elarl, could barely walk, and needed to ride on Holden's shoulders.
As they cut through several of the darkened chambers, weak floor crumbled under one of the son's feet, trapping him, one of his allies, and Hardo in a geyser of acid. The halfling proved as alert and jumpy, as they had expected he was barely struck. The fish-mem caught in the blast, however, shrieked with fury and confusion. One had a crippled foot and numerous minor burns, and the other a seared retina.
Once Tarrant had offered them ministrations that the creatures rejected vehemently, it was agreed the creatures would part ways through the crabbing pit.
The cavern of bone idols clattered and crashed with a sound like a catapult. One of the icons erupted in a shower of dust and chips and a pair of razor-sharp bone blades crashed into Holden's chest. The sound of tearing leather and a metal clangor followed, as the blades shattered across his new armor.
"I'm alright, I'm alright!" he said in a voice sounding far more like the brassy old priest than he'd had in days. "This armor was worth every penny."
Neela looked at the broken tripwire running between totems. "We've walked past this trap three times, It has been dumb luck it didn't get any of us earlier. I need to be the hell out of this place."
They staggered out to the last lights of the sun turning the strange sands a bright fuchsia. It was hard to feel elated with battered prisoners and corpses to drag home, but the sight of the sun and sea was, if nothing else, anesthetic.
At the Blue Crocodile, Benne surprised everyone - especially herself when she wept. She had thought Jonas wrapped around her fingers. But now that he was gone... He had been better to her than any man she had ever known. Taking his spellbook now felt unearned. Undeserved. And those feelings, too, were new to her.
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