Coldeven 3, 576 CY – Just Before Midnight
Frigid temperatures under a mostly clear sky.
14°F
Light SW breeze (4-7 MPH)
Interior Moathouse
The weight of exhaustion hung heavy over the party, but they knew they couldn’t rest yet. Somewhere below lurked Lareth, the prize they’d come to capture—and the longer they delayed, the greater the chance he would slip away. The right wing of the moathouse, ominously silent, lay waiting to be cleared.
Oleg the Half-Elf, Slash the Bard, Dog the Ranger, Irving the Reluctant (Paladin), TerryOr the Cleric, Dixon the Dwarf, and the NPCs Zert the Fighter and Spugnior the Magic-User steeled themselves as they moved down the hallway, each door a new unknown in the decaying darkness.
The Stairway Up
A few tentative steps upward revealed a collapsed and impassable second floor—mounds of rubble and scorched remnants blocked any hope of ascent. With a shared look, they moved to the first door in the corridor.
A Grotesque Surprise
After careful inspection, TerryOr cracked open the door, only to recoil as a grotesque figure emerged—a ghoulish creature, like a zombie yet faster, its eyes gleaming with malice. TerryOr raised his holy symbol, voice trembling as he attempted to turn the beast, but it remained, immune to his call. Dixon took a swing, but it darted back with unnatural speed, vanishing into a crack in the ceiling. The room, once a conference chamber, was empty save for a few scurrying rats. As they searched, Irving sensed a powerful Chaos radiating from a fine broadsword wedged in a splintered wall case. Oleg quickly secured it for later examination.
The Poisoned Trap
At the next door, TerryOr opened it only to yelp in pain as a poisoned dart struck him. His face flushed as the venom coursed through him, but he managed to gulp down a potion from the church, its neutralizing effects working quickly. Inside lay the wreckage of an empty bedchamber, once home to a troop leader, but now no more than a hollow shell.
A Salon of Shadows
The group pushed into a salon, once opulent but now in ruins. As they examined the remains, scores of bats erupted, swirling around in an angry flurry. The group pressed on, brushing off the bats, anxious to clear this wing.
The Corner Room
At the end of the hall, an opening led to the final room, avoided by brigands for good reason. Here, coiled amid rubble and refuse, was a massive adder, its scales gleaming with deadly intent. With a hiss, it struck, sinking its fangs into flesh. TerryOr, already weakened, dropped under the relentless assault. Finally, after a desperate fight, the snake lay dead. Searching its lair, Slash uncovered a glittering dagger, jeweled and worth a small fortune—but it felt like a hollow victory.
After Midnight
As midnight passed, the party, battered and spent, withdrew to a small back room. Dog took the time to cook the adder’s meat over a small fire, and they divided the watch. Throughout the night, faint footsteps echoed from above, shadows shifting and slipping through the broken ceiling. The half-rotted creature from before, some of them whispered, still lurked, watching and stalking.
Dawn on Coldeven 4
With the dawn, TerryOr awoke and began his prayers, invoking St. Cuthbert’s strength to heal their wounds. Each adventurer readied their weapon, eyes dark with determination. Time was slipping through their fingers—Lareth, the object of their hunt, awaited somewhere below. If he was still here.
Evil items and sneaky creatures upstairs. Larenth must be downstairs? It would seem it is the only place left?
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