Session 11 Recap & Experience Points Awards

 

There was never any doubt the confrontation with Banipal would end in violence, or that the fight would be a difficult one. But with the battle concluded and the weremarten’s halls now silent, the remaining party members confronted the harsh reality of Brodrath’s death. The cleric had been a loyal companion and a fierce ally, and each of member knew full well the finger of death might just as easily have pointed to them, had fortune spun differently that day.  But it did not, and already the guilt of survival ebbed into thoughts of what comes next.

“We can’t just leave him here,” said the elven enchanter Tristan Pureheart, seemingly already to recognize the futility of the suggestion. “He deserves a proper burial.”

But to drag the dwarven cleric’s lifeless body through the narrow, twisting halls of the lycanthrope’s cave hardly seemed practical—if even possible. A long, steep slope preceded the exit, and there were dangers along the way.

“We don’t have a choice,” fellow wood elf Vagar responded. “He fought bravely and deserves to be honored. But we cannot carry him out. Even if we could, we are in no condition to do so right now.”

The latter elf’s ultimate point could not be denied. Numerous party members nursed wounds of their own. And the party’s precious magic resources were substantially exhausted. A chance encounter now with any hostile being could well see more of their number joining Brodrath among the fallen.

“We could come back, then,” the enchanter protested. But Vagar merely shook his head.

“We will cover him with rocks,” the dwarven warrior Jadearch declared, seeming to resolve the impasse. “And bury him with a weapon.” Whether such a conveniently improvisational rite was truly a sanctioned method of burial among the Albernear dwarves, as Jadearch intimated, the enchanter surely had his doubts. But it was surely much safer than any alternative, and anyway appeared to be the best Brodrath was getting. So Tristan rolled up his sleeves and joined his companions in gathering stones and rubble to enter their fallen comrade’s remains.

“He was a good dwarf, a trusted ally, and a good friend,” Jadearch announced, placing the cleric’s still-bloody Tri-Bolt of Paomoer down on the rock pile. “May he long be remembered.”

“Ay!” chanted the elves in unison, the martial artist Ailier Solenight clanging the hilt of his borrowed dagger to his chest in emphasis. It was more a funeral than any of the company would have received had fortune swung just slightly the other way—the company all knew this. And further perils surely lie ahead. The simple ceremony this concluded, the four remaining members of the adventuring company lifted their backs and strode cautiously into the darkness. 

The path back to the surface was cold and empty. But it was not silent. The chirp and chatter of carrion crawlers echoed through the caverns, the sound intensifying as the party passed the den where the body of Sione Bari lay alongside myriad slain bloodmartens. But that danger was easily avoided, and moments later the party emerged once more into the daylight.

Even so, the Rock Marsh still teemed with horrors. And already the next fearsome adversary appeared to stalk them from the nearby thickets. Just as the company readied its weapons, however, the creature that leapt from the brush was not some hostile being—but Kaloo: the canine companion of the late Sione Bari.

Though visibly confused at the absence of his former master, Kaloo was friendly enough and eagerly followed the party after Vagar treated him to a few morsels of dried venison from his pack. The party returned to the central rock tower and made camp, with Kaloo serving as a helpful watchdog for the night.

When dawn broke, the company descended the rock tower and proceeded to the grave of Zarthan Tiga, the deceased cultist whose journal had been found on a shelf in Banipal’s quarters. Tiga’s records spoke of a weapon, called “Blackfang”, and Banipal’s own notes suggested the weapon had been interred with Tiga. Disturbing a grave is always dangerous business, but here the temptation was far too much to resist.

A pyramid of bleached white stones rested, carefully stacked atop a soft earthen mound. On lifting the first, a strong gust of wind swept suddenly across the Rock Swamp, rippling the water and shaking the trees. But the party continued its excavations regardless. Less than one full meter down they found it: Tiga’s bones, wrapped in his worm-eaten  robes, with a jeweled black sword pressed along his body and a deteriorating wooden scroll case as well.

On collecting their treasures, the company swiftly heaped dirt back over Tiga’s bones and replaced a few of the bleached rocks—then left the gravesite behind them. The next destination was a return to the cave where the mage Asorin Itall had once lived and where his mephit servant Vuzu remained. There they found the mephit in his usual, transactional mood: happy to share a nugget of his cryptic, questionably relevant knowledge for a generous pour of whiskey.

This time, Itall was even more the topic of conversation than he had been previously. Vuzu reiterated his deep disdain for the mage—but when the party expressed a seemingly sincere desire to seek out the man, the mephit’s tone grew more serious. “You would find Asorin Itall,” Vuzu questioned. “I do not expect that meeting would end well.” Even so, the seeming impossibility of the task did not prevent Vuzu from expressing his heartfelt desire that the company “stick him [Itall] a good one.”

Vuzu went on to confirm the company’s suspicions, or at least those of Tristan, that Itall had cursed the Rock Marsh after a hostile confrontation with artisans carving the sculpture of the sentinel Aisul Awar, and it was around this time that Itall departed from the place. Vuzu also disclosed that the jeweled medallion Itall wears is no mere accessory, but an enchanted article of some potency called “Vosson’s Medallion”—though where he got it from, or exactly what powers the medallion carries, Vuzu did not seem to know.

“Did Itall summon you?” the party finally asked. “Are you trapped here?”

“No,” the mephit answered. “I am not trapped here. I was … ‘given’ to Itall. That is to say, ‘given’ as a gift would be given.”

Before leaving the mage’s house, the party passed through Itall’s abandoned bed chamber to gaze upon his portrait one final time. “Does the gem in the medallion resemble the one in the black sword?” Vagar asked.

“I can’t tell,” Jadearch replied, gazing upon the filthy, deteriorating painting.

“it’s not,” Tristan firmly added. “The jewel in the sword is a topaz. The medallion has an amethyst.”

Satisfied with this explanation, the company climbed back through the broken window frames and headed for the main cavern and the stairs to the surface. But they soon found their path was blocked by one of the daunting giant lizards that made its home in this cave. The hungry beast attacked without hesitation, spewing a torrent of caustic fluid that stung multiple party members. But the tables soon turned, and the reptile proved no match for the focused might of the company’s points and blades.

The giant lizard defeated, the company proceeded back to the surface and huddled to decide their next move. The decision was taken to begin a long march back out of the Rock Marsh, though with two minor detours along the way. The first was a return to the Cave of Horrors, where the party once again pondered the mysterious Glitter Shade but remained mystified by the lethargic, convoluted mass. Then, the company revisited the cavern where they’d found a mysterious pink vapor venting from below, and nursed their acid burns in the restorative mist.

Turning finally to the southeast, the company at last trudged toward the trailhead from which they’d accessed the Rock Marsh. But as they approached, an unexpected fullness darkened the brush before them. Shadows and forms ambled from all sides—pale green and bloated, bodies covered in torn, muddy rags. Some limped, some festered from black purple wounds, all reeked of ire, contagion, and death. There could be no doubt these were the restless souls Banipal referenced in his sermon. But any consideration the party’s victory over the lycanthropes might have obtained was lost on the mindless walkers that steadily closed in with empty, hateful eyes. So the company drew its weapons and readied their magic.

Vagar loosed an arrow and wounded one of the beings. Tristan invoked a color spray spell that knocked two more down. But the zombies numbered seven and moved with a deceptive quickness. They struck with terrible rending claws, wounding several members of the party and dropping Tristan to the ground in stunned bewilderment.

Now the loss of Brodrath was felt most acutely. With no cleric to heal the party’s wounded or drive zombies away through a divine connection, the peril swiftly mounted. Another zombie tore its claw across Tristan’s motionless body, and then another—the flurry of strikes bringing the enchanter’s life into mortal danger. But at last, the crisis was averted.

The runes inscribed on the wooden cudgel shone the same bright blue in the presence of these undead as those in Banipal’s lair. Now in the hands of Ailier Solenight, the martial artist slammed the weapon squarely into one zombie and fully annihilated it, then did the same to another. To Ailier’s right, the dwarf Jadearch tested the jeweled black blade from Tiga’s grave, finding it more than suitable to hack down zombie after zombie. And from the rear, Vagar continued to pour arrows and magic missiles into the onslaught.

Before long, the last of the zombies had fallen. Their unnatural toxin wore off the enchanter, and the path out of the Rock Marsh stood finally open. From there, a few uneventful hours of walking brought the company to the outskirts of Larkingwood and the Mistwood Fields farm. Back on familiar ground, Kaloo ran ahead of the company to the isolated farmhouse, where the stolid yeoman deliberately emerged to hail his visitors.

Bari seemed already to have drawn sufficient clues from the arrival of his son’s hunting dog, without Sione along. But he clearly took comfort in the company’s report all the same. Vagar delivered the sad news. “Your son fought at our side,” he said. “Unfortunately he was not able to make it out. We lost two of our companions besides.”

”He would not have been able to resist the disease for long,” Savu answered, for the first time revealing his knowledge of Sione’s infection. “Soon he would taste the blood of men—if he had not already.”

Bari produced a reward of 300 gold pieces, a fine suit of brigandine, and a potion he said would “grant strength like that of a hill giant.” It was more than the company had expected—yet so had been the mission.

This mission would be the last for Ailier Solenight, who pocketed his share of the gold and bowed out of further adventure—choosing instead to remain at Mistwood Fields as a hired farm hand. But the martial artist was soon replaced, for also lodging at Bari’s residence that evening was the masked figure Rhukk, a warlock of Scaol. Rhukk dressed in fearsome warrior garb, but had come to these parts in search of adventure himself and proved eager to join and assist the party. 

He would need to wait one more day. As night fell over Mistwood Fields, Rhukk’s newfound companions sank into their deepest sleep in memory. At least most of them did, anyway.

Adventure Notes

Blackfang. Zarthan Tiga, a deceased cultist of Salomirak, perished in the Rock Marsh and was buried along with his cherished weapon—a black steel blade with a pink topaz set into the guard, and small arcane runes etched into the base of the blade. Whether Tiga or some previous owner named the sword “Blackfang”  is neither known nor particularly important to you. But through experimentation, you have discerned the weapon is a short sword +1.

Vosson’s Medallion. The smoke mephit Vuzu told you the ostentatious amulet his former overlord Asorin Itall wears is called “Vosson’s Medallion.” What powers the item possesses, where it came from, or who “Vosson” remain unknown.

Toxic Zombie. Though you had not previously encountered zombies in your travels, you have not heard from any who have of zombies being capable of stunning their adversaries. But these stank of death and decay and bore a strange toxin that left Tristan Pureheart nearly helpless on the ground after sustaining a wound.

Witches of Scaol. Even in a society where the sight of armed men in the dress of war is commonplace, Scaol’s adherents (who call themselves “witches” collectively, though most individuals are male and called “warlocks”) stand out for their garish weapons, terrifying masks, and other forms of extreme gaudery. Witches revel in the apprehension, avoidance, or outright fear their very appearance inspires in many who see them, a reaction only amplified in Sekara Valley where the name Scaol is most closely associated with the orcs and other fell races of the Great Desolation.

Experience & Inspiration

·       The party defeated seven toxic zombies and a grey lizard in battle this session, good for 1,105 XP.

·       The party recovered the sword Blackfang from Zarthan Tiga’s grave and learned its core properties. 350 XP. The party also learned the properties of the runed cudgel they had previously obtained. 175 XP.

 ·       The company befriended Sione Bari’s dog Kaloo. The dog accompanied the party when it returned to Mistwood Fields and reported the events of their journey to Savu Bari. Kaloo’s presence established critical trust and confidence with Savu Bari, as did the party’s true and accurate report of Sione Bari’s end. 1,000 XP.

 ·       The company discovered the incomplete stonework and Awar crest on the carving of Aisul Awar. 50 XP. 

 ·       The company also learned from Vuzu the smoke mephit additional information about Asorin Itall and past events in the Rock Marsh. 50 XP.

 ·       The warlock Rhukk joined the party late in the session, replacing Ailier Solenight, and healed wounded party members. This item will be treated separately below.

Session 11 total: 2,730 XP

The total 2,730 XP award from the session will be divided into 4 shares, which comes out to 682.5 XP per share. This will be rounded up to 685 XP per share, and distributed evenly to Jadearch, Tristan Pureheart, Vagar, and Ailier Solenight.

In addition, Rhukk is awarded 50 XP for making an interesting first impression on the party with his mask, but nevertheless ingratiating himself to the members with his healing spells.

Final Session 11 XP awards:

• Jadearch: 685 XP
• Tristan Pureheart: 685 XP
• Vagar: 685 XP
• Ailier Solenight: 685 XP
• Rhukk: 50 XP