Sunday, Flocktime 9th, 595 CY - Moonday, Flocktime 17th, 595 CY

The adventure began in the town of Borneven, in the Earldom of Gamboge, within the country of Nyrond. Lady Eve, paladin of Heironeous, Nicholette, cleric of the Sun God Pelor, the barbarian Semag Oediv, Thareus the dragon shaman and Drustan of Mithat, professional gambler extraordinaire were abruptly introduced when they overheard a commotion on the streets. After a brief tavern-room brawl, Drustan was expelled from the establishment and found the other adventurers speaking with members of the town watch, who had just slaughtered a group of dire rats which emerged from the sewers. There were further sounds of battle from the nearby avenues as the watchmen repelled the creatures who were pouring forth from the gutters. Drawing the conclusion that something had driven them out of the sewers, the group agreed to venture into the depths and find the source of the commotion.

The bold band of adventurers braved the refuse and filth and dealt with a few bands of straggling dire rats. Finding the nests of the dire rats, the cause of the ruckus soon became apparent, for amidst the ruined nests were the bodies of both dire rats and monstrously overgrown centipedes. Further exploration of the sewer tunnels revealed a collapsed wall that led to a passage into the oerth. Amidst the rocky tunnels and caverns they encountered a moldering body of a halfling and found a badly worn book, encoded with a cypher. After easily dispatching over a half dozen centipede hatchlings and several of the vermin as large as a man, they finally encountered the creatures' nest. Within the cavern was a great centipede double the size of a horse, snapping its mandibles, ready to defend its nest. After much bloodshed, the party felled the beast, though not before Lady Eve fell with a grievous wound. With the healing ministrations of Nicholette, the paladin was soon on her feet again and the party made their way back to the surface.

Wounded, venom-filled, but victorious, the group reported to Toller, Captain of the town watch what had occured. Offering his thanks, he saw to it that they were treated for their injuries at the temple of Heironeous, then asked them to return to his office to speak with him. Once they had been treated and seen to personal business, they spoke with the captain, who informed them that the roads and countryside had been plagued by banditry as of late. One particular band of highwaymen calling themselves the "Viper's Fangs" had been assailing caravans and farmsteads alike, causing much mayhem. While he would like to see their camp tracked down and the bandits eliminated -- especially their leader -- simply thinning their numbers would suffice. He informed the group that each member of the gang wears a badge signifying their membership and for each one brought in he would pay 1 shinepiece (electrum piece). Moreover, should they bring the leaders' head back, there would be a substantial reward.

Drustan, having expressed his desire to work on deciphering the journal, requested some time to do so prior to leaving to hunt the bandits. While Captain Toller indicated that the longer the group waited the more people could fall victim to them, he also said that the bandits (unfortunately) weren't likely to go anywhere. The group decided to take a week to rest and recuperate while Drustan studied the journal.

Moonday, Flocktime 17th, 595 CY - Freeday, Flocktime 21st, 595 CY

The group struck out from Borneven, headed for the roads south and east of the town to search for the bandits who called themselves the Viper’s Fangs. As they were leaving, a member of the town guard caught up to them and stopped them. He introduced to them a somewhat unusual woman who Captain Toller suggested they take with them, as she had been useful in assisting the town with some previous problems as well. It was soon revealed that she was an air genasi and trained in hand-to-hand combat.

During their travel, they fell afoul of several ambushes, each of which they overcame. On the third day they came upon a caravan, besieged by the very bandits they were searching for. The leaders of the raiding party were twin brothers, Durm and Thurm. Thurm was quickly felled, but his brother proved to be more of a challenge. So enraged was he by his brother’s death, he fought on like a man possessed, before he was finally mortally wounded. Incapacitated, near death, they attempted to question him about the location of the bandit camp. At first, he refused flatly to cooperate, spitting hatred and curses. Then, with coaxing and persistence, a deal was struck that he would answer them if they would bury him and his brother together. Durm revealed that the camp was stationed in the Gamboge, to the east. The dragon shaman showed the man a warrior’s mercy and ended his life quickly; the two brothers were buried together.

After seeing to the caravan and gathering the badges of the dead bandits, the group pressed on for the Gamboge forest. It was several days’ travel and an intimidating encounter with a bison before they neared the forest. Several miles from the forest yet, they stopped at a farmstead to see if they might gain room and board for the night. The owner was at first cautious, but he warmed up to them when he realized they were not bandits and, in fact, there were followers of Heironeous and Pelor among them. He begged the priestess of Pelor to come with him to the house and with the others close behind, led her to his sons. Both were wounded after a recent bandit raid that they only just managed to repel. The priestess provided healing for the young men and the group was welcomed with open arms and shown much gratitude.

The next day, the band entered the Gamboge and attempted to track down the bandit camp. After several hours of wandering the wood, it was soon becoming apparent to them that finding one camp in all of the wide forest would not prove so simple. As they pondered over the appropriate course of action, they noticed a sylvan elf perched in a tree nearby, bow at the ready and watching them. He dropped down and approached the group, letting them know that they had been shadowing them for some time and asking after their business in the Gamboge. Upon explanation, the elf let them know that their scouting party had tracked down that same group of bandits nearby. Rather than reporting back to gather a force to exterminate them, it was decided that the elven scouting groups and the party would take care of the issue together.

After laying their plans, the elves began the attack. The bandit patrols were first eliminated silently, then arrows rained down on the unsuspecting brigands. During the mayhem, the party charged in, cutting a swath through the unprepared men. The bandits quickly routed, those that were still alive running for the woods where the elves picked them off at will. Meanwhile, the group faced down the bandit leader a man with a patch over one eye. Intimidating, confident, he stood decked out in gleaming half-plate, his greatsword ready to strike them down one by one. Of course, he overestimated his chances; after a short exchange of blows, he was struck down with little trouble.

While searching the bandit leader’s tent, amongst they treasure they found, the group found a map and a note. The map was crudely drawn and unlabeled. Given the limited knowledge of the geography of the area, it remains a mystery for the time being. Meanwhile, the note was written to the brigand leader, by an unknown hand. It expressed impatience and discontent over being made to wait for another delivery of slaves. Short, but to the point, it demanded a new shipment within a fortnight or the consequences would be dire. Now that it had been revealed that the bandits had been involved in abduction and trafficking slaves to unknown parties, the group was left with a decision on what path to take next…

Freeday, Flocktime 21st, 595 CY - Sunday, Wealsun 9th, 595 CY

Having laid low the brigands, the intrepid band of adventurers gathered up badges from their fallen foes, as well as what treasure there was to be found and loaded up their horses. They set out for Borneven that same day, escorted out of the wood by the unseen sylvan elves shadowing their movements.

Meanwhile, back in Borneven, other events unfolded. Semag Oediv, lone barbarian and amnesiac bumped into another large, burly individual who claimed to be his cousin. The man introduced himself as Epat Oediv and over the course of the week that Semag's compatriats were away, told him tales of his past and informed him of the fate of his people. Semag learned, among other things, that his uncle, Aremac was attempting to gather up as many of the scattered Oediv clan (and other kinsmen of different clans) as possible and form a plan to retake their lands in the Flinty Hills. Epat mentioned that they would be assembling and staying in Womtham until it was time to make their move.

During that same week, Drustan finished his study of the halfling archaelogist's journal, then took to gambling to occupy his time. One evening, he started a barfight over a gambling dispute. Semag and several other customers joined in. Once the situation spiraled out of control and damage was done to the premises, the guards were called. Drustan escaped out the back door. Despite pursuit by the guard, he managed to give them the slip via a clever distraction and duck into hiding. Meanwhile, Semag and several other patrons were fined by the guard.

When Thareus, Eve, Nichollette and Budicka arrived back in Borneven, they first paid a visit to the captain of the guard. Captain Toller was pleased with their success and paid them for both the bounty on the leader of the Viper's Fangs and the badges collected. He let them know that he would contact them if any more work became available. Thareus showed the map and letter found at the bandit camp to the guard captain and Toller suggested they speak with an apostle of Delleb who lived within the town, custodian of a small library and shrine to The Scribe of the Gods.

After the entire party met back up at the Lord’s Manor inn, exchanging what information they had learned, it was decided that they would pay this follower of Delleb a visit. They sought out the man, asking around town and were referred to one Garbon Hayes. Upon arriving at Garbon’s abode and place of work, they explained their need, showing him the map they had found. Though it was difficult to tell from lack of landmarks and labeling, he suspected that it showed a portion of the Flinty Hills, bordering the southern edge of the Gamboge forest. They shared with Garbon the information from the halfling’s journal that Drustan had been studying, referring to the ancient dwarven citadel.

Vastly intrigued, Garbon explained that there was a lost subterranean citadel believed to be somewhere in the Flinty Hills. It was no doubt the very place that the Halfling had been searching for and the map they found may lead to its location. Drustan stayed so that he and the scholar could pore over Garbon’s literature together to find what references they could to the ancient site and compare it to the information that Drustan had already assembled on his own. Meanwhile, the others went about their various errands within the city.

The next day, Garbon provided the group with a few maps and instructions on how to locate the area around the citadel, based on the map they had found, his own personal geographical knowledge and the independent research that he and Drustan performed. While he eluded to the fact that it would likely not be perfect and no easy task to find the citadel, it should suffice to get them from the city of Womtham to the correct area within the Flinty Hills. From there, if they could manage to find landmarks shown on the map from the bandit camp—and if his interpretation of those landmarks were correct—they should find what they are looking for.

The group set out from Borneven that same day on horseback, riding south and east for the city of Womtham. At the end of four days of travel, during which the only trouble they encountered was a surprise attack from a worg and its wolf mate during the night, they arrived at Womtham. The city was vastly larger than the small town of Borneven, with wide streets and tall, impressive buildings of stone and marble. Despite the scars of war left behind on this city—like so many others in Nyrond—it is a city of fine architecture, tens of thousands of citizens, and a haven of trade, placed as it is in the center of the nation.
The party spent the night in Womtham, staying at a fine inn called The Mistress and Maiden’s Rest. The heavy, lacquered wooden sign above the door had a colorful painting of the twin moons of Oerth, the larger, pale white Luna, and the smaller aquamarine Celene. Their departure was postponed the next day, as a heavy storm blew in from the east, pouring rain and cracking with thunder throughout most of the day. After a day spent leisurely in the inn, the party continued on their journey, departing Womtham and following the road to the north and east.

Paralleling the Duntide River, they made good time until they reached the Flinty Hills. From there, they navigated via Drustan and his interpretation of the maps he’d been given. Their travel overland progressed more slowly, given the hilly terrain and the general lack of a definitive path. Luckily, however, their journey proved not to be laboriously dull, as a small band of orcs did their best to kill them in their sleep.

Having survived that, the party continued on until they had reached area within the region that the scholar believed that the bandit map indicated. If the scholar’s information was correct and if Drustan’s skills at navigating by the maps provided held true, then all that would be left for them to do is find some sort of landmark that could sync up their location to that of where the citadel would be. Unfortunately, something found them first.

They spotted the massive creature lumbering through the trees toward them, a hulking thing perhaps ten feet tall, with leathery, rotting, warted skin. One eye had gone completely milky white while the other stared blankly. Its toothy mouth hung wide open, its tongue hanging limply from its mouth. Arms hanging at its sides, it shuffled forward, dragging a massive, blood-stained tree branch behind it. The party warily scattered, splitting up and giving the creature room to move past, hoping it would not attack.

Their hopes were in vain. A raging battle ensued as the giant rotting corpse batted and smacked the adventurers about with resounding blows from its club. Eve, Semag and Budicka were all quickly smote to the ground, broken and battered, despite their best efforts to inflict harm on the tough creature. It quickly became clear that they were all in true, mortal danger. Fear settled in the hearts of the remaining party members as Nicholette called forth the power of Pelor to drive the beast away several times only to have it turn and strike her down.

But the day was not lost. Thareus channeled invigorating magic through the aura he projected around him and his compatriots slowly healed. Drustan distracted the creature with a cunning, daring maneuver. Hooking his chain pick around the monster’s neck, he scaled its back. Distracted, thrashing this way and that to try and reach behind itself to dislodge him, the creature paid little mind to the others as they slowly recovered. Healing spells were cast, blows were struck, acid poured down the monster’s face and still the beast stood. Despite all they had accomplished, it seemed that perhaps they would never overcome the undead ogre.

It was then that Thareus, trying desperately to fell the creature with his longspear, inadvertently impaled Drustan, still hanging from the creature’s back. He reeled in shock and horror at what he’d done, as Drustan dangled there from his spear, unconscious and perhaps dying. He drew his mace and tried to bring the monster down before it was too late for Drustan, while Budicka pummeled the zombie again and again. Despite all of it, the behemoth would not fall.

With a terrible blow from its club, Thareus was sent stumbling away with a badly injured arm and a spinning head. Yet he clung to consciousness, his magic continuing to heal his allies. Eve, the paladin of The Valorous Knight, stood and retrieved her sword. Greatsword held high, she stepped in and swung the final blow that, at last, felled the awesome foe.
When all was done, for all their grievous injuries and close calls, everyone survived. They made camp, deciding it was time for them to rest and lick their wounds. They had faced their brush with death and survived…this time.

Sunday, Wealsun 9, 595 CY – Waterday, Wealsun 12, 595 CY

While the group camped in the northern Flinty Hills, licking their wounds and recovering from their perilous encounter with the zombified ogre, the remnants of the bandit group they had defeated were up to no good. While traveling toward the citadel to regroup, the bandits encountered several unfortunate travelers and managed to get the drop on them, taking them captive. Despite the state that the brigands were in, void of a camp and leadership, they hoped, perhaps, that the slave-trading agreement would still stand and sought to deliver their new captives to those who were purchasing them.

During their captivity, the two had opportunity to introduce themselves and plot a chance to escape their shared predicament. One was a gnome named Krendar, the other an Oeridian by the name of Solvang. The human was accompanied by two others, a warrior called Carrick and a man called Falroth, a servant of Solvang. The bandits had set up camp for the night and only one man was on guard. Lax in his duty, he did not notice their covert struggle to free themselves of their bonds.

Between the four of them, the captives were able to struggle free of the ropes. Solvang cast a spell that caused the man on guard to collapse into a magical slumber. They quickly gathered their items, as well as what monies the brigands possessed, then made their escape into the forest. The gnome navigated, very familiar with the terrain, and after several hours of traversing the wilderness, they happened upon a campsite.

Semag, the member of the party on guard during the early hours, heard their approach. Without a campfire and concealed as they were, the approaching group did not notice them until they were nearly upon them and the sound of their approach alerted the barbarian. Semag roused several others in the group and called out to those in the darkness to reveal themselves.

Suddenly, the foliage came to life around the group. Shrubbery grew and contorted, branches and leaves reaching out toward the party. Grass sprouted forth to incredible length and wrapped itself around the appendages of the group, those awake and still sleeping. The power of the gnomish druid awakened nature against them to ensnare and restrain. There were shouts of confusion and threats made as the group struggled to free themselves from the spell’s effect.

Amidst the chaos, Krendar and Solvang explained that they had been captured by slavers and had escaped, explaining their mistrust of the group. They relayed to the group that they had overheard their captors mention a citadel as their destination. Lady Eve and Thareus explained that they had encountered and defeated a group of those bandits and the citadel was the very place they searched for. Realizing how fortuitous their encounter was and that they could all be of use to each other, Krendar cancelled his spell and they all stood down their guard.

After exchanging pleasantries and discussing strategy, they set watches once more and settled in to sleep. The next day Krendar tracked their way back to the campsite where the brigands had stayed. They were able to find tracks leading in the direction they believed the citadel to be and followed them, referencing the map for further guidance. Along the way, another corpsefied creature happened upon them. It was a large, hulking beast, though not nearly the bulk of the last. Clearly, in life, it had been a bugbear, but in death it was but a tough, mindless zombie. The battle was short-lived, however, as after only a few seconds of trying to fight the creature off, Nicholette brandished her holy symbol and called upon the might of Pelor to destroy the beast utterly.

After another day’s travel, they located the entrance to the citadel. Moving ahead to scout, the gnome happened upon it. In a deep valley with steep cliffs overhead, he peered down upon what seemed to be three men guarding the entrance to a cave. One man stood by the entrance, wearing a rust-red robe. The other two slowly shuffled back and forth around the valley, seemingly on patrol. After returning to report to the group, they made their plans and approached.

There was some discussion of whether to enter the front door or attempt to find some sort of ventilation to try and smoke out their enemies. Ultimately, it was decided after much debate to simply attack. Once more, Solvang dropped his enchantment of magical slumber upon their foes and the red-robed man collapsed. The others were unaffected, however. The group charged into battle to face their foes and soon came to realize the reason that the spell did not affect them—they were walking corpses.

After slaying them both, they tied up the red robed man for questioning. Also, they happened to notice that the zombies they killed were both wearing Serpent’s Fangs badges. When the red-robed man awoke he was questioned. They were unable to glean much information from him—though he did mention his high priest, only to say that he would not betray him. The holy symbol he wore gave him away as a worshipper of Nerull, the god of death. Amidst their threats and demands for information he was unmoved, unafraid of death and telling them that they would soon face his god for meddling in their affairs.

After some discussion, the group decided to explore the cavern, leaving Falroth and Carrick behind to guard their captive and await their return. For hours they traversed the tunnels. It was clear by the downward slope that they were travelling deep into the Oerth. At one point it was necessary to double back to find the correct tunnel after it split and turned this way and that.

They soon came upon a vast open cavern. The ledge upon which they stood was joined to another ledge by an arching bridge carved of stone. Overhead loomed darkness and the chasm beneath them disappeared into darkness as well. The ledge opposite them was lit with a pair of braziers and they could see six figures on the other side. One of them wore a rust red robe of the same fashion as the man they had captured outside.

Arrows arched across the chasm toward them, fired by the five creatures standing on the other side. Lady Eve was struck several times as was Thareus. The group, save Krendar and Drustan charged across the bridge as arrows continued to rain down. Drustan attempted to take cover within the opening of the tunnel, returning fire with his bow. Meanwhile, Krendar lobbed bullets across the distance with his sling.

The worshipper of Nerull called down a foul spell upon Eve, Thareus, Solvang, Semag and Nicholette, filling them with fear and uncertainty. Despite the ill effects of the spell they fought on, fighting their way through the archers—which proved to be skeletons animated by unholy magic—and cornered the priest. The priest managed to keep them at bay but was clearly outmatched. When Nicholette used her divine powers to destroy the remaining skeletons, he knew he was lost.

He called out for mercy, offering his surrender. The paladin, prepared to accept, signaled for her allies to hold their attacks. However, they were all of them deceived. While their guard was down, the priest hurled himself at Thareus, hitting him with all the force he could muster and driving him back. Together, they tumbled off the ledge before the others could stop them.

In a show of quick thinking and quicker reflexes, Drustan—who had crossed the bridge just a short time earlier—swung his chain pick and hooked it around Thareus’ ankle. The chain wrapped around his leg, the pick biting deep into his flesh and Thareus suddenly jerked to a halt. The priest, still clinging to him hung there with him, and Drustan found himself unable to support the weight of both men. Stumbling, he began to topple forward over the ledge. Solvang grabbed on to the archeologist, pulling against his momentum with all his strength to try and anchor him there.

It was not enough—both men were moments from falling into the abyss when Krendar whipped a bullet from his sling across the distance and struck the priest solidly on the forehead. Dazed and wounded, the man lost his grip and fell into the darkness, his screams echoing throughout the cavern. With help, Drustan and Solvang were able to pull Thareus to safety.

After some healing, the group cleaned up, disposing of the skeletal remains. Exhausted and with their resources expended, they decided to camp there for the night. They knew that surely someone would come to relieve the previous guard so remained prepared for the inevitable encounter. During the night, another priest did indeed approach and was quickly dispatched before he could mount a defense. Once rested, they progressed deeper into the citadel.

Following the worked stone hallway, they walked down a long series of steep steps and into a vast, wide hallway. Pillars and great stone statues flanked them on either side. Tall sculptures of dwarven heroes lost to the ages loomed over them, dressed in armor and bearing hammers and axes. Many of these statues were damaged or toppled, some from obvious desecration. At last, they came to the end of the great hallway.

Two massive bronze doors dominated the floor of the room before them, the great hinges hanging from the wall bent and rusted, the doors having collapsed long ago. Within the room were the corpses of ancient dwarves that were once entombed there. The bodies had disintegrated to little more than bone and stretched, dried skin, bits of long hair hanging here and there. Their eye sockets lit with an unnatural glow as they stepped into the room and they attacked.

There were a few blows exchanged, but the battle was quickly ended with a blast of holy energy summoned by the priestess of Pelor. Amidst the dust and sudden stillness of the room, now standing in the entry hall of the ancient dwarven citadel—a place where almost no living soul had set foot in millennia—they were left with the decision of what path to take.

Waterday, Wealsun 12^th 595 CY – Freeday, Wealsun 14^th 595 CY

After finishing off the skeletal dwarves in the entry chamber, the group explored the rest of the dungeon. They first ventured down the west tunnel, finding old, abandoned barracks. The bunks and footlockers were in such a state of decay that nothing was of use. Upon exploring further, they found a massive forge room with great anvils and hearths, as well as old tools for the craft lying about. After slaying several more undead, the group searched and found a dwarven waraxe that had survived the years. In the armory, most of the equipment had rusted from lack of care and the passage of time, but they did discover a suit of dwarven crafted half-plate.

The next room they discovered had obviously served as a mess hall. There was a long bar with an opening to the kitchen behind it, and a series of tables and benches. Flies buzzed about and rotten food was on the tables, leading the group to draw the conclusion that someone had occupied the citadel after the dwarves and prior to the cultists. Though they found nothing of interest in the kitchen, they descended into an old storeroom. Within were rotten supplies—nothing of any use; they did, however, find a creature waiting for them. This disgusting, worm-like monster had a white, sectioned, rubbery body with mandibles clacking as it flopped toward them. It was, in fact, a dog-sized maggot.

While the group was killing the disgusting creature, Glinden remained upstairs. The others returned to the kitchen to find that the gnome had been hacked to pieces by a dwarf who still stood over him, his axe dripping with blood. In a flash of anger, Thareus attacked and after a quick exchange of blows, was wounded badly by the dwarf. All the while, the dwarf shouted curses and declarations of murderous intent, calling the party members followers of Nerull and foul cultists. When the confusion passed, the attacks subsided long enough for the dwarf to explain he was cleansing the citadel of the followers of Nerull, and the gnome had, in fact, been wearing one of the cloaks he’d taken from a cleric.

The mistake became apparent, and the rest of the group allowed the dwarf, one Thrash Bloodshield, to travel with them in order to combine forces. The party next discovered a vast room, huge pillars supporting a ceiling so high overhead that it was swallowed into darkness. A great statue of Moradin stood in the center of the room on a pedestal, and lining the walls were alcoves with stone sarcophagi within, stretching up high above. A plaque at the base of the statue read, in dwarven, Tomb of the Honored.

Within this room, two robed cultists waited, with four rotting corpses under their command. Though they used their dark powers to bolster the undead creatures against Nicholette’s holy power, the group still overcame the enemy quickly, striking down the worshippers of Nerull first. When the skirmish was done, the group inspected the statue of Moradin, finding that it had been badly defaced and a symbol had been carved into. Nicholette, Eve and Thrash recognized it as the symbol of Laduguer, god of the duergar or deep dwarves.

When they continued through the northern door, they found a circular room with a large, stone, vault-like door in the wall. Upon inspection, they could see that runes had once been carved in the wall, only to be sanded off. There was a line of tiles, each one with a dwarven rune inscripted upon it. In addition, another symbol to Laduguer adorned the door, a broken arrow attached by a chain. After some time of changing the position of the tiles and speaking amongst themselves to figure out the meaning of the riddle, they were able to determine that the code was “Grey Protector”, the most common title for the duergar god. Upon aligning the tiles properly, there came a click as the lock in the door was primed.

Not having the key to fit the keyhole, Drustan attempted to pick the lock. He quickly discovered that the lock was difficult and accidentally tripped several traps while trying. While he searched the door and attempted to find a way in, the rest of the group grew impatient and continued without him. The next room they came upon was a temple, or worship chamber.

The room had been obviously desecrated and bore a foreboding presence that sent chills through them all. The walls, bearing inlaid depictions of Moradin in glorious scenes, were smeared with dried blood. A large rug dominated the center of the room, though it was heavily decade with age and soaked with blood. The altar at the front of the room resembled an oversized anvil carved of stone. An alcove behind the altar held a desecrated depiction of the All Father. Behind that altar stood a man in magnificent, flowing robes of rust red.

As the party entered the room, the man looked up from the altar, the athame in his hand dripping with blood. The dark, otherworldly chant still lingered in the air as he sneered at the intruders and spoke. “You shall pay for what you have done here…but I have no time for you now.” With a wave of his hand, he turned and hurried for a door nearby. The group pursued, but as they made it to the center of the room, horrid creatures leapt out and attacked.

With rotten skin stretched over their festering bodies, burning eyes and wicked claws, these creatures assaulted the group. A horrid stink hung in the air and the adventurers choked and gasped their way through it, until they had slain the four monsters. Drustan was able to catch up with them and they saw what wickedness the priest had wrought.

Lying upon the altar, a sacrifice to the dark god Nerull, was a little girl that several in the party recognized as the daughter of Melk and Brynn, little Fera. She had been defiled and mutilated prior to the sacrifice and her blood stained the altar, flowing down in rivulets. Enraged, overcome by hatred, the party rushed after the priest with Thareus leading the way. The group followed the enemy to his personal bedchamber. Upon his bed, atop the black silk sheets lay a rigid, pale corpse of a beautiful woman.  They tore the room apart, searching, and though they found the key to the vault, as well as other treasures, they did not immediately find what they searched for. They were relentless, however, and after fifteen to twenty minutes, they did discover the secret door through which the priest had escaped.

They were able to track the priest through the tunnels, until they came to a very tight spot that they had to squeeze through. In the darkness, Thareus almost fell into a fissure that divided the tunnel. After searching, they discovered that ropes had connected the tunnel from above and below and using those one could shimmy across the fissure in the stone. Though the ropes had been burned away, they used their own rope to attach to the pitons embedded in the stone and each shimmied across, helping one another to reach the other side.

They soon found the exit of the tunnel, coming out in a wooded area of the flinty hills. It was growing dark and was difficult to tell how far they were from the original entrance of the citadel. Despite this, they were convicted to continue to search for the evil priest and pressed on. They were ambushed by a group of ogres. Exhausted and depleted of magic from all they had been through in the citadel, they were hard pressed to repel their attackers.

In spite of that, they managed to overcome—but at a cost. Thrash Bloodshield fell in battle…

Starday, Wealsun 15^th 595 CY – Earthday, Wealsun 20^th 595 CY

The morning of Starday, the 15^th of the month, the group awoke to find several surprises. Drustan, who had been taking third watch the night before had, at some point, fallen asleep. He had been sitting by the fire, vigilantly watching for trouble, and then he simply awoke in the morning with no idea of when he’d fallen asleep. Meanwhile, as the others in the group began to move about to ready themselves for their day, Thrash Bloodshield was storming through the camp, rustling through knapsacks and satchels, trying to find his supplies.

The dwarf’s grave had been partially dug the night before, and his body had been left lying by the unfinished grave, covered in a cloak. Now, to everyone’s shock and amazement, he looked fit and full of vigor and not in the least bit dead. Some confusion ensued as members of the group attempted to find an explanation, but all that Thrash could tell them, his memory groggy from his passage to the other side and back, was that a great dwarven hero had appeared to him, in service to Moradin the Allfather. He had bade Thrash to return to the material plane and cleanse the ancient citadel of the hated duergar within and any other foul beings that desecrated the place.

Now, with a new mission and zeal to see it done, Thrash was ready to depart at once. Unfortunately, members of the group began to notice that the paladin, Lady Eve, was not rising from her bedroll. Groaning, coughing, she lay there, looking too stiff and weak to do much than lift her head. Nicholette examined her and found that she was hot with fever, pale around the eyes and mouth. Given the horrid beasts that the group had faced the day before, Nicholette declared that the woman had contracted Ghoul Fever, a potentially lethal disease.

It was decided that the best course of action was to take several days of rest, during which the cleric could tend to Eve. Through her ministrations and herbal concoctions, she nursed the paladin back to health. During the time of rest, the group found themselves blessed with good fortune. There were no attacks or ambushes, no roaming predators in the night. The only encounter they had was a band of hillsmen who were passing nearby. They approached and offered trade. After a bit of bartering, the hillsmen accepted a well-crafted sickle and a cloak of fine fabric for furs, hares and fruits and berries.

When the group resumed their travels, it was decided that they would return to the citadel to progress through the vault door. Using their map, they tracked their way back to the original entrance and found a wounded Falroth tending to a wounded Carrick. The priest they had been guarding was nowhere to be seen. They explained that another priest had come upon their camp two nights ago and attacked. Falroth had managed to hide after he was wounded, but Carrick stood his ground. The robed man wore armor beneath his clothing and was skilled in combat—moreso than Carrick. In seconds, he cut the warrior down and left with their captive.

Falroth had tended to Carrick and they were both recovering well. The group came to the decision that the pair should join them as they headed back into the citadel. After retracing their steps for several hours, they came to the vault door they had encountered before. The tile puzzle remained as they had left it. Cautiously, the rest of the group keeping their distance, Lady Eve tried the key. With a click, followed by a rumble and the grating of stone against stone, the door rolled counter-clockwise into the wall. After the dust cleared, the group continued on into the passageway beyond. Heading ever deeper into the caverns beneath the citadel, they battled their way through a series of dangerous creatures.

They were first attacked by creatures that fluttered down from the shadows above—creatures that seemed like a grotesque hybrid of bat and mosquito. They latched on and plunged their needle-like appendages in, drawing great gulps of blood from their victims. After struggling with the half-dozen or so creatures, the group prevailed, though both Drustan and Semag were left weakened by blood loss.

As the party ventured onward, they found several items of value on the skeletal remains of two dwarves. The room inside was covered in mold and fungi, as were the skeletons. Eve and Thareus both progressed into the room to retrieve the items found and disturbed the mold on the ground. As the spores billowed up in a cloud around them they began to cough and sneeze, their eyes stinging and watering, their lungs burning. Eve covered her face and slowly managed to gain control of her breath, coughing out enough of the spores that she could breathe clearly. Meanwhile, Thareus remained quite woozy, wheezing and coughing as he went along.

The group soon found a small cavern that had been set up as a makeshift prison, a gate of timber with a lock on it serving as the entrance. After smashing their way through, the group explored within and found that amongst the dead bodies there lay one man still alive. He was horribly emaciated, his lips dry and cracked, suffering from severe malnutrition. Much like the corpses around him, he stunk of urine and feces. Taking pity on him, Eve gave the man water, carefully and slowly helping him to drink it. They asked what had occurred and when he was able to speak, he informed him that his name was Giir and he was a carpenter from a hamlet southeast of Borneven. During a raid perpetrated by bandits, he and several others were taken captive and he had been forced to work in the mines along with many others, until he had been too weak and was thrown in the cage to die.

Carrying the man to another room where he could be better cared for, Falroth and Carrick remained with Giir to see to him while the rest of the group continued on. In a great cavern deeper into the Oerth, the group fell prey to an ambush by a pair of gricks. These horrid creatures were as long as a man is tall, slithering like snakes—their bodies rubbery and segmented, ending in four flailing tentacles with a mandible in the center. The creatures slapped and struck with their appendages, snapping with their jaws, threatening to overcome the group. No matter how much effort the party members put into it, their attacks barely seemed to damage the creatures, their flesh too tough.

When it was all said and done, the heroes overcame—exhausted and bleeding, they stood triumphant over their slain foes. They soon found a sturdy iron door that was solidly locked. Drustan made an attempt at picking the lock, but was unable to do so. Thinking that perhaps the key that opened the vault door was also the key for this door, they returned to the stone door. Using the lever inside the tunnel, they closed the door, while Thrash experimented with the key outside. After a few moments, they worked it out and Thrash recovered the key while the door was opened from the other side, via the lever.

Alas, when they tried the key on the iron door it was not a fit. Persevering, the adventurers explored other passageways, finding a massive subterranean lizard guarding a pair of chests. When they approached, it whipped out its tongue and attempted to draw in Thrash. Fortunately, it didn’t manage to take hold. However, as the others fought the creature, it did catch the monk, Boudica with its tongue, drawing her into its jaws. It bit down hard on her, shaking its head from side to side, then tossing her away. Pierced in several places with tooth holes, blood flowed freely. After the creature had finally been struck down, Nicholette healed those who were in need of it, and the group found silver and potion vials in the chest.

Leaving the silver for the moment, they continued following the underground stream to a cavern where the stream became very rapid and disappeared into a hole in the stone. The stone nearby was slick and dangerous, so the group hugged the wall as they moved past, taking a set of carved stone steps down to the next level. They came down into a cavern with a waterfall, taking a moment to drink from the pool of fresh water and refill their waterskins.

There were several doors on the east wall of the cavern and they explored each one. In one, they found a series of large rooms, sectioned off by archways. Filled with a foul, rotten stench, it was clear that this area had been a storeroom and was full of crates, sacks and shelves of spoiled foodstuffs. Behind the other door was a similar, but smaller storeroom, however this one had been emptied. Other than a slightly musty aroma, it was not terribly offensive. They did, however, notice a dampness on the floor in the second room and as they approached, they found that it was not a puddle. It was, in fact, a gelatinous creature, an ooze of some variety. It slapped and splashed toward their legs, as if trying to engulf and digest them. They quickly found that the creature was very acidic and in the process of fighting it, Eve’s flail was rendered useless as the acid ate away at the metal.

The adventurers prevailed. Exhausted, worn out by the day’s events, and nursing acid burns and other various injuries and maladies, the group decided to use the storeroom as a makeshift campsite. Thrash hurried back to inform Falroth and Carrick and they went to join the group, Giir in tow. Setting watches, they all settled in to rest while Falroth continued to see to the ailing Giir. Their rest was disturbed, however, as Thareus heard the approach of something from without the chamber. Quietly he roused the other members of the party and they listened closely as those who approached whispered and closed in around the door. Once the group had readied themselves, Thrash rushed to the door and looked out to see who was there.

Instantly, three duergar scouts attacked, one on each side of the doorway and one charging from ahead. He was struck with blows from their hammers. Bones cracked and blood running from his head, he retaliated. Semag and the others pushed their way to the front so they could join the battle to assist their ally. The three duergar were cut down quickly. Three others were with the scouting party and had held back, but seeing their compatriots so easily overcome, they opted for the smarter strategy: reinforcement. One of the duergar charged, seeking to buy his fellows time. The other two made for the stairs and as one ran up toward the next level, the other stopped at the bottom of the stairs, blocking the exit.

Though both of the remaining gray dwarves died soon after, the one who fled managed to escape. No doubt, the duergar reported the presence of the invaders.

No doubt, the party’s enemies will be expecting them.