Hommlet Darker Session C - The ORB

Hommlet Darker Session C: The Orb

Black Lung Gordon the Thief 1
Tat Shen the Eastern Monk 1
Jacques Jorie the Hobbit
Rashi the Druid
Vindryl

Fireseek 1, Evening

The party returns to the Inn of the Welcome Wench, burdened by the lifeless body of the herdboy. However, as they place the remains on the floor, they crumble into dirt, rock, and mud before their eyes. Vindryl examines the strange debris, identifying it as rock from the nearby swamps. Unease grips the adventurers as they retire to their rented room to rest, haunted by the implications of their discovery.

Fireseek 2, Morning

Determined to uncover the truth, the group sets out on the northeast road leading to the swamps. The bitter wind cuts through their cloaks, but they press on, their resolve unshaken. Along the way, they spot faint, shuffling footprints—small and uneven—leading northward into the hills. Following the trail, they come upon the entrance to an abandoned mine, its gaping mouth exuding an aura of foreboding.

Venturing inside, the adventurers face immediate peril.

Encounters:

• A Lizard: Emerging suddenly from the shadows, its unexpected attack rattles the group but is quickly subdued.
• Three Crab Spiders: Ambushing from the mine's upper recesses, their venomous bites nearly prove deadly.

Deeper within, they encounter a robed warlock standing vigil before a pulsating brown orb embedded in the wall of the cavern. The artifact’s glow casts eerie shadows as the warlock turns, his voice a low growl: “You should not have come here.”

The ensuing battle is a desperate struggle. The warlock summons necrotic energy, hurling spells with malicious precision. The party fights valiantly, finally felling the dark figure in a burst of steel and magic. Yet, as the warlock collapses, his lips curl into a sinister smile, his gaze fixed on the orb.

Drawn by curiosity or an inexplicable compulsion, Tat Shen steps forward and touches the orb. A surge of energy courses through him, and he screams as his mind shatters under its dark influence. Mad with terror, he flees the mine, raving incoherently. Rashi and Jacques, overcome by the horrifying spectacle, also bolt, abandoning their companions in sheer panic.

Vindryl and the others are left stunned, their unity fractured as the malevolent power of the orb takes its toll.

Monsters Encountered:

• Lizard (1): AC 7; HD 2+1; XP 50
• Crab Spiders (3): AC 7; HD 1+1; XP 50 each
• Warlock (1, guarding the orb): AC 6; HD 3+2; XP 300
• Zombie (1, formerly Black Lung Gordon): AC 8; HD 2; XP 50

Treasure:

• None

Experience Awarded:

• TBD

The group’s retreat to Hommlet marks the end of Fireseek 2, but the enigmatic orb and its devastating effects suggest that this is only the beginning of a far darker mystery. What cursed power lies behind the artifact, and what horrors will it unleash upon Hommlet?

Chapter 1 / Episode 6 - The Death of Craddock

Chapter 1 / Episode 6: "The Undead and the Unseen"

Fireseek 8, 576 CY

Morning in the Kron Hills

The grey, overcast sky cast a pall over the caravan as it trudged along the muddy southwest trail. The Kron Hills loomed larger with every mile, their steep ridges and dense thickets creating an oppressive atmosphere. The adventurers had grown accustomed to the grim silence of their journey—broken only by the creak of wagon wheels, the plodding steps of oxen, and their own hushed conversations.

In the back of one of the carts lay the lifeless bodies of the merchants and drivers who had been slain days earlier. Their corpses had been loaded carefully with the intention of returning them to Hommlet for proper rites. The sight of the tarp covering them weighed heavily on everyone’s mind, a constant reminder of their losses.

---

The Horrors of the Road

As the caravan reached another fork mid-morning, the adventurers chose to continue southwest. Hours passed with no sign of trouble, but unease hung in the air. That unease turned to shock when the silence was broken by a low, wet sound from the rear cart.

The bodies beneath the tarp began to stir.

“They’re moving!” Kure the Acolyte cried, clutching his holy symbol.

One by one, the dead merchants rose, their eyes glowing faintly with an unnatural light. The air filled with the stench of decay as they stumbled forward, their bodies contorted and swollen. The group sprang into action, weapons drawn, fighting to contain the sudden attack within the confines of the caravan.

But these were no ordinary undead. When struck down, their corpses collapsed into pools of dark, oily water that hissed and bubbled as if alive.

---

The Fall of Craddock

In the chaos, Craddock the Mad, the group’s dependable ranger, fell to the claws of one of the undead. His companions barely had time to grieve before his lifeless body began to twitch.

“No... not him,” Slash the Bard whispered, his voice shaking.

Craddock rose again, his eyes hollow and unseeing, a pawn of whatever dark magic had animated the others. The group was forced to confront their friend in a desperate and harrowing battle. Kure called upon his divine power to strike the undead Craddock down, but the victory felt hollow.

---

The Bandits’ Harassment

The group pressed on, shaken but resolute. Their grim task was interrupted by the return of the bandits who had been dogging them for days.

This time, the attacks were relentless and cruel. The bandits darted in and out of the trees, striking from the shadows and melting away before the adventurers could retaliate. The assaults continued sporadically, forcing the caravan to halt repeatedly and sapping the group’s already strained resources.

“They’re not here to kill us outright,” Lornan Calihye muttered, his half-elven eyes narrowing as he scanned the treeline. “They’re wearing us down.”

Jed Bonebridge, his armor splattered with mud and ichor, growled in frustration. “Let them come closer next time. I’ll show them what it means to fight!”

---

The Eighth Day Ends

By nightfall, the caravan was utterly spent. They found a place to camp, but the adventurers knew rest would be fleeting. The dead merchants’ transformation, the loss of Craddock, and the relentless harassment by the bandits had left them battered in body and spirit.

The Kron Hills, dark and unyielding, offered no comfort as the group settled into another uneasy night. The distant howls of wolves punctuated the silence, a reminder that the dangers of the wilderness were far from over.

As they huddled around their meager campfire, the adventurers knew one thing for certain: whatever awaited them in Hommlet, it couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter 1 / Episode 5: "The Crossroads"

Craddock the Mad (Ranger lvl 1)
Kure Acolyte (Cleric 1)
Lornan Calihye Level 1 1/2 Elf AC 9
Slash the Bard 1
Jed Bonebridge (Cavalier)

Chapter 1 / Episode 5: "The Crossroads"

Fireseek 7, 576 CY

Morning in the Kron Hills

The day dawned clear and bitterly cold, with the caravan resuming its trek through the increasingly rugged terrain of the Kron Hills. Craddock the Mad rode ahead, his sharp ranger instincts ever attuned to the subtle signs of movement in the wilderness. He came upon a small, hastily concealed campsite—a fire pit, some discarded items, and a faint sense of unease hanging in the air.

“Someone was here,” Craddock muttered as he crouched to examine the ground. His brow furrowed. “Fresh, but no tracks. It’s as if they vanished.”

The discovery left the group wary, and as they pressed onward, they reached a crossroads where the trail forked into two directions—one leading northwest, the other southwest. The adventurers debated briefly before choosing the southwest path, hoping it would lead them closer to their ultimate destination.

---

The Ambush

The narrow trail through the hills suddenly erupted with chaos as a group of bandits sprang from the underbrush. They came with weapons drawn and an air of desperation, their leader flanked by a peculiar figure—a small, reptilian creature perched on his shoulder, its sharp eyes gleaming with malice.

“Stand and deliver!” the bandit leader barked, his voice rough and commanding.

Jed Bonebridge, the cavalier, wasted no time charging forward, his lance glinting in the pale light. Slash the Bard strummed a sharp chord on his lute, magic weaving through his music as Kure raised his holy symbol to invoke the light of his deity.

The skirmish was brief but vicious. The bandits fought with surprising ferocity, their strange "pet" leaping from its master’s shoulder to harry the adventurers with claws and teeth. But as the tide turned against them, the attackers fled into the hills, leaving behind only their wounded pride and unanswered questions.

---

Pushing Through the Night

With nerves frayed and adrenaline fading, the group pressed onward into the night, determined to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the ambushers. The trail twisted and turned through the hills, the cold biting at their faces as darkness deepened.

By the time they stopped to make camp, exhaustion was evident in every member of the caravan. A fire was lit, and they huddled close, the flickering flames offering a small comfort against the encroaching shadows.

---

The Camp Rats

The peace of the night was shattered by the sound of rustling and scurrying. The group awoke to find their supplies under siege by a swarm of camp rats. The small vermin had gnawed through sacks and barrels, carrying off what little they could. By the time the party managed to drive them away, the damage was done—most of the caravan’s stores were gone.

The mood was grim as they salvaged what they could, the cold, empty hills now feeling far less hospitable. The road ahead seemed even longer, and the lessons of the day weighed heavily on their shoulders. They were not alone in the Kron Hills, and the dangers they faced were growing bolder.

Hommlet Darker Session B - Searching for the children

Fireseek 1, Evening

Black Lung Gordon the Thief 1
Vindryl

As the winter sun sets behind the snow-laden hills, casting an eerie glow over the landscape, Black Lung Gordon and Vindryl steel themselves for the grim task ahead. Guided by Sir Mordrin’s account, they trek to the hilltop where the young herdboy was last seen tending his flock. The icy wind howls across the barren expanse, carrying with it an unsettling stillness.

Vindryl, alert and watchful, scans the area for signs of the boy’s presence. Snow blankets the ground, erasing any tracks or evidence of what transpired. As the ranger peers into the dim light, Black Lung Gordon notices a faint, unnatural glimmer beyond the ranger’s shoulder.

“Vindryl, behind you!” Black Lung yells, but the warning comes too late.

From the shadows emerges a twisted form, its movements jerky and unnatural. The horrific realization hits them both as the creature lurches forward—the undead visage of the missing herdboy, his once-innocent face now grotesquely contorted in death. Before Vindryl can react, the boy-turned-zombie strikes, raking its icy claws across the ranger’s arm.

The air fills with the stench of decay as the adventurers ready themselves for a fight they never anticipated. As the clash unfolds, one question looms larger than the rest: What dark force has turned Hommlet’s children into monsters?

Monsters Encountered:

• Undead Herdboy (Zombie): AC 8; HD 2; HP 12; MV 6"; #AT 1; D 1–8; XP 50

Treasure:

• None

Experience Awarded:

• 50

Chapter 1 / Episode 4 - Tracking and being tracked

Craddock the Mad (Ranger lvl 1)
Crush The Half-Orc1 AC1 HP6
Kure Acolyte (Cleric 1)
Lornan Calihye Level 1 1/2 Elf AC 9
Slash the Bard 1

Chapter 1 / Episode 4: "Tracking and Being Tracked"

Fireseek 5, 576 CY

The weight of the previous day’s ambush lingered heavily over the party as they stood over the remains of the skirmish. The lifeless ox-cart drivers, victims of the bandits’ aggression, lay in somber silence. Despite the victory, there was no triumph, only the bitter realization that the caravan now rested solely in their hands.

Craddock the Mad knelt at the edge of the muddy trail, examining the tracks left by the fleeing bandits. His sharp eyes traced their path into the dense woodland to the northwest, where the trees seemed to close ranks and swallow the trail whole.

“They’ve gone this way,” he muttered, his voice low and steady. “Moving fast, likely regrouping. We could follow, but...” He trailed off, glancing back at the battered caravan.

The others exchanged glances, their faces shadowed with fatigue. Pursuing the bandits meant abandoning their mission, leaving the goods and wagons vulnerable to yet more dangers. Reluctantly, the group decided to press forward, their priority now the survival of the caravan and its remaining passengers.

Without the fallen drivers, the adventurers found themselves taking on unfamiliar roles. Crush, the hulking half-orc, took to handling the oxen with surprising gentleness, his gruff demeanor contrasting with his careful steering of the carts. Slash the Bard cracked jokes to lighten the mood, though his songs carried a melancholic edge. Kure, the cleric, tended to the injured and prayed for protection, his quiet faith a steadying presence.

The group pushed onward through the cold, overcast day, the wagons creaking under their weight. As night fell, the caravan found a sheltered clearing to camp. They huddled close to the fire, the quiet of the evening a stark contrast to the chaos of the day before. Yet, even in the stillness, a sense of unease lingered—the feeling of being watched, the knowledge that the forest around them was far from safe.

---

Fireseek 6, 576 CY

Morning broke over the frosted trees, pale light filtering through the canopy. The caravan resumed its journey, the group tense and alert. By mid-morning, the trail they followed intersected with another path, one cutting across their route.

Craddock dismounted to inspect the crossing. His sharp eyes noted hoofprints and wagon tracks in the churned mud, signs of recent use. The path to the north beckoned with its mystery and danger, but the caravan had a clear destination—Homlett lay straight ahead, and the mission could not afford further delays.

Still, the discovery gnawed at them as they moved on. “We’re not the only ones out here,” Lornan Calihye, the half-elf, observed, his keen gaze scanning the treeline.

Craddock agreed, his unease evident. “They’re moving close, either tracking us or keeping just ahead. We’d best stay sharp.”

As the caravan pressed forward, the forest seemed to close in tighter, the air thick with an ominous silence. Shadows stretched longer, and every sound—a snapping twig, the distant cry of a bird—felt amplified. The sense of being hunted grew stronger, a predator’s gaze unseen but unmistakable.

The adventurers steeled themselves, knowing full well that the bandits—or worse—might be lying in wait.