Sabledrake Magazine
August, 2001
Feature Articles
Diary of a PBeM, Pt 1: Foundations
Down and Out in Wren's Crossing, Pt.3
Regular Articles
Resources
Down and Out in Wren's Crossing, Part 3
Copyright © 2001 by Michael L. Straus
Part 3: The Evil that men do
Our story so far:
Continued from Part 1 and Part 2
After being captured by the forces of "The Snake." The party was marched to his hidden holdfast and was offered the choice to join him in his rebellion against his brother "Lord Drin" or be locked in the dungeons.
Before they could give an answer, the holdfast was overrun by the undead! The party members are now prisoners of the Ghouls and their Wraith leader and are being marched along (again) a hidden underground passage to who knows what fate.
1: Walking with the dead
Once again the party finds themselves being marched along to a fate they have no control over. In the company of their former host, "the Snake," and the last of his men. You jog along this dank underground passage to who knows what horrid end. Your only company is your own morbid thoughts, as the foul smelling ghouls offer no conversation.
Ahead of you the Wraith leads the prisoners, horrid in its unlife. Even more so in the fact that it was once a man, perhaps even someone you knew. Slain by the Black Wound and risen as a wraith.
The question remains, under whose control.
The rank smelling tunnel offers no clues, parts of it looks dug while other parts of it look crafted, perhaps by Dwarves from long ago. There is no light down here, other then that given off by the Undead and no sense of time. You can not tell if you have been walking for minutes or hours. The Undead keeps pushing you along at their unholy pace, showing no concern for your well being. When one of the Snake's men fall to his knees, the ghouls jump on him and consume him in front of you.
As you walk you have more time to study your situation. Perhaps to find a way out.
The passage started as if hand dug then widened into a natural cavern. As time passed the natural has turned into the worked. You now pass down a cobblestone, bricked, supported hallway. Obviously of Dwarf make.
The ghouls march you past this ancient wonder and up a old set of stairs. They lead you into a large chamber. It is dark and foul smelling -- obviously the ghoul's nest. The air is warm and tepid and filled with strange sounds and smells. Your skin crawls as you can almost feel the corruption down here.
The ghouls chatter and howl at you but then wander off to their Dens while the wraith remains standing in silent immobility by a pair of brass bound doors.
The room has a pale green glow to it from the Ghouls skin, but other then that you have no way of telling where you are. Perhaps that is a good thing?
"What is the meaning of this?" shouts the Snake. Instinctively reaching for his weapon, only to find it missing.
" I say we fight 'em," shouts one of his men.
"Is this my brother's doing? Just like him to make a deal with the undead."
Then his accusing eyes look at you.
"You? This all began with you! You led them to me didn't you? All this time and you have been in league with them haven't you? Haven't you!" He points at your party and his men turn as one and face you. You suddenly feel very alone.
" I say we kill 'em and give 'em to the beasts. That might distract them long enough to make our escape!"
"Yes, perhaps you are right. We may die this evening to satisfy my brother's greed. But I assure you, you will die first!" He gestures and his men begin to march on you. The ghouls offer no aid, they just sit on their haunches in the dark watching and waiting.
You protest your innocence but to no avail. It seems a fight is inevitable
Snake's Men (8) Unarmed 1d6. Unarmored. Mercenary training and touch.
The Snake (1) Unarmed 1d6+4. Unarmored. Very well trained and very touch. Professional and a very dirty fighter.
The fight breaks out. You have only your fists, wits (Spells?) and whatever you can find laying around to use as a weapon. Sadly that pretty much leaves you with just bones (1d6-1).
The fight is dirty and unprofessional. The darkness and the situation just make it that more ugly. It seems to last forever and you don't seem to be winning.
2: Meet the bad guy
"That's enough!"
Suddenly lightning fills the room and thunder echoes off the walls. The ghouls go running into the dark corners of the chamber. Dragging the dead and dying members of the snakes party with them (And any dead PC's).
"I did not invite you all this way just to have you kill each other. That's my job!"The voice is both sinister and melodic, like a cool Georgia breeze. The kind of voice that you would follow willingly to your doom.
He was not there a moment ago, but now he stands there in all his malevolent glory. The man who is no doubt your host. He stands at least six feet tall and about 200 pounds of whip cord muscles. The stench of the room does not seem to touch his black clothing and with the way his hand sits on the large black long sword at his side, you know he can use it.
But it is the aura of power about him that frightens you the most. There is something in his rich dark eyes and sinister smile that frightens you. Like something the grave spit up. Perhaps it is the way the ghouls and the wraith bow to him. Perhaps it is the eerie blood red glow about him or the way the filth on the f1oor seems to flow away from him but for the first time in you life you understand the true meaning of Evil. For if this man is anything, he is that.
He strides into the center of the room as if he owns it and walks right up to the man that started the fight. With whip like speed his long slender fingers grab the man's head and before you can react, he crushes his skull in his hand.
The man falls dead at your host's feet and yet not a drop of blood is on him.
The Snake growls with anger and leaps at the man, but with a gesture the Snake finds himself floating immobile in mid leap. "Now, now. I expect civility from my guests. And you! Get to work."
You watch in horror as the man who just had his skull crushed suddenly jerks back to unlife and begins to shamble about the room. You wonder if you are next. The man smiles as if he read your thoughts.
"So you are the scum my brother has employed to get rid of me?" spits out the
Snake.
"Oh no, Sir Drew, I assure you your brother is as much my enemy as you are. I simply chose to deal with you first. Your patrols in the Haunted Forest have been giving my Orks a hard time. I simply can't have that. It just would not do to have my secret lair found out before I am ready to complete my little experiment here in your lovely valley. So I am afraid you have to die, you already know too much as it is."
Despite the civility and refinement in his voice you are struck cold with the realization that this man is insane and means every word he says, "Lord Din and the town of Wren's Crossing will be next, don't you worry. But for now I deal with you my pretty snake."
He snaps his fingers and the Ghouls stroll back into the light and begin to paw at the Snake. Some of his men try to defend him but are quickly struck down by the Wraith. Five ghouls grab the struggling Snake and begin to pull him towards the brass bound doors.
"Who are you? What the hell do you want with me?"
The Snake screams. The man in black pauses to consider his answer, "Over the years I have worn many names Drew. Though the one you are most likely to know me as is the Black Huntsmen."
He pauses for effect, "Now you may simply call me Remington."
The Snakes face turns ashen, "The necromancer from the South?"
"One and the same, Drew. One and the same."
With that, the Ghouls drag the struggling Snake out of the room and to who knows what fate. Leaving you and the few remaining members of the Snake's men to face down Remington.
Your mind is wild with everything you have heard of this foul man. Remington, the black huntsman. The necromancer. The evil eye of the South. An ancient and powerful wizard and master of the black arts and you are face to face with him.
"Now then, what to do with you. I simply can't allow you to inform the rest of the High Kingdoms that I am here until my little surprise is complete. Still it's no fault of your own that you are here now is it? Tell you what. I'll give you a fighting chance. More than anyone ever gave me when I was your age. All you have to do is make it through these doors behind me and I'll let you go. Simple enough, right?"
He snaps his fingers and is gone in a flash of light. You stand-alone in the dark, dank room. The smell of magic and death lingers in the air. Somewhere you hear the screams of the Snake begin.
"Boss!" One of the Snake's men rushes towards the doors to rescue his master. Before he can make it to the doorknobs he is struck down by an unseen assailant and you watch as his head goes flying across the room and his body slumps to the ground.
With that the Wraith steps out of the shadow and brandishes its bloody sword. And this time it brought a friend.
Snake's Men (6) Unarmed 1d6. Unarmed. Mercenary training and touch.
The Wraiths (2) Long Sword 2d6+2. Undead. Normal weapons do 1/2 damage. Aura of fear. Black Wounds. Very Touch.
3: The fate of a Snake
Death.
You have grown sick of it. The smell of it, the feel of it. It has followed you since you began this foolish quest. What was it only a few days ago?
Perhaps now you regret becoming an adventurer.
It would be so easy to just turn your back on the Snake and walk back down the tunnel to the now empty Holdfast and from there, depart the cursed land of Wren's Crossing and leave it to its fate. You don't deserve this after all do you?
But to go on?
To cross that barrier and face down Remington. Perhaps you will die, but at least you would know that you did your best to make the world a better place and perhaps for that your Soul would go to the West.
Do you turn back? Or go on?
On the other side of the Brass Bound doors is a chamber much like the last. It is dank and dark and filled with the stench of age and rot. Whatever this place was, it has long fallen into disrepair. Perhaps it was a dwarves tomb, that would explain the tunnel and the craftsmanship and the bones that litter the floor.
You stand in a four-way intersection. To your left is a passage made of dark blue stone. Down it you can hear the screaming of the Snake and the tittering of Ghouls.
To your right is a passage made of damp, red stone. Down it come the sound of machinery pumping away and the smell of Plague.
Ahead of you is a dry; dark passage made of green stone that slopes slightly upward. The faint smell of fresh air seems to trickle down it, as does a very faint laughter.
Behind you is the room you just left.
A: If the party goes down the Blue Passage: Keep reading this section to discover the fate of the Snake.
B: If the party goes down the Red passage. Read section 4.
C: If the party goes down the Green passage. Read section 5.
D: If the party chickens out and goes back down the tunnel to the Holdfast. They can escape this adventure. You are on your own after that.
Down the blue passage (The fate of the snake)
The passage is carved and worked and inlaid with a strange blue stone. Although valueless it is still a sight to behold and you wonder about the Dwarves that built this tomb.
You pass a few small chambers but they are empty and unused. (There is a 1 in 6 chance that they find something of small value in here). The hallway ends in a large carved blue chamber that has a foul smell to it.
The chamber was once a conference room but it is now a necromantic laboratory. Hooks and chains hang from the ceiling and tables covered with surgical instruments line the four walls.
A small party of ghouls hang out in here, licking the blood off the chains.
With a start you realize just whose blood they are licking, the disemboweled lower torso of the Snake hangs from the chains, dancing in the wind like some sick marionette.
Once they see you, the ghouls will rush to defend their meal.
Ghouls (4) Claws 1d6+1. Touch. Natural Armor to chain mail. Undead. Very fast. -1 to be hit due to stench.
Once you finish off the ghouls you realize two things. One, there are a few things of value in here. And two, you are not alone in the chamber. You hear a whispering and the sound of bones rattling. A foul breeze begins to blow and the chains rattle in the air. Something begins to move towards you, whispering, "All your fault."
As the thing enters the light you are stunned with what you behold. You gaze upon a 15 foot long skeleton of a Giant Snake of some kind and at its front, where its head should be is the upper torso and head of Lord Drew, The Snake.
This then, is the fate of the Snake (Oh yeah, like you didn't see this coming).
The abomination will dance in the air and move seductively, its dead eyes never leaving you. All at once it will hiss, "Look at me. This is your fault!" Then it will attack.
Necrophidisis. +4 to hit. Claws 1d8+4. Bite 1d6+4. Stinger 2d6+4. Paralysis Venom (bite and stinger). Very touch and well trained. Undead. Bladed weapons do 1/2 damage. Ranged weapons do no damage.
Rewards: Amongst the room you will find the following. Several surgical instruments including scalpels, clamps needle and thread, pain killers, antibiotics, and gauze. Bones saw and bone hammer. 24 silver bits. 12 gold bits. A matching set of 24 silver needles each over a foot long. 2 pounds of salt. A +1 dagger. 3 vials of healing potion.
The party must now backtrack. Heavy hearted over the fate of the Snake and their own fate indeed.
4: All my plans exposed
Down the Red Passage
You walk down the carved, dimly lit hallway. The tunnel is made of some strange red stone. Carved with the intimate craftsmanship that only Dwarves can create.
The hall is thick with a foul odor and the walls and floor are damp with condensation. Green mold clings to the red stone. Soon the smell becomes overwhelming and you begin to feel faint.
While there are a few chambers off the hall (1 in 6 chance to find something) the strange smell and sound seems to be coming from the central chamber directly in front of you.
You enter what once must have been a smithy or smelting chamber, but it has been reconfigured to fit Remington's foul needs. In the center of the chamber is a large cauldron, boiling over a central fire. Copper pots exit the cauldron and extend into the ceiling like chimneys. Sickly looking rats scurry about the chamber, they are covered in the green mold and you watch as some of them lick the goo seeping out of the cauldron and then scurry in to their holes.
With stunned fascination you approach the cauldron. The boiling liquid is dark green with patches of brown in it. The smell coming from the pot is so foul you cannot help but retch. It is the smell of corruption and plague.
" Ah I see you have discovered my little secret." Remington strides into the room, seemingly unaffected by the smell and the taint. He grabs a rat and with casual ease chucks it into the pot. Where it screams and dies.
"I am afraid my solution is not very original. Mankind has been using disease as a weapon forever. Still when you want to kill off an entire population nothing works like a plague. My plague spores are pumped in to the air through these copper pots and delivered by the rain. My rats can get into the places my spores can't and spread the plague that way. Within the month this whole valley will be infected and dead or dying. By winterfest I will be the Lord of Wren's Crossing, as everyone else will be dead. HEHEHEHEHEEHEH!"
He pauses and begins to walk towards you. A black blade is now in his hand, where a moment ago it was not.
"Oh, I know what you are thinking. We can escape and warn the valley. Well, you are welcome to try but I have a feeling they will be too busy to listen to you. But go ahead and try. I won't stop you. Of course you could just try to kill me and get the antidote."
Remington: +6 to hit. High Level, Ultra powerful. Necromancer. Spells. Normal weapons will not harm. Black Blade 2d6+6. Lightning Bolt 10d6. Any one slain by him will rise up as a Zombie in 1d6 rounds.
The party should of course see the hopelessness in fighting Remington. He can hurl 10d6 lightning bolts fur gosh sakes. Should they attempt to combat him, he will be a ruthless and unstoppable foe. Using both spells and his deadly blade to devastate the party. He will slay 1/2 the members and then let the rest run (See part 5).
Should the party take Remington up on his offer to run for help, neither he nor his forces will stand in their way until they exit the Dwarven ruins.
Go to part 5.
5: Hopeless battle
Down the green passage. This passage like the other two is well worked and carved out of some unknown green stone. It slopes up towards an exit and the smell of fresh air and rain hits you as you run up it. As you approach the exit your feet begin to sink in the mud and as you hit the surface you see that it is still raining.
The tomb is in a small secluded valley somewhere in the Granite Mountains on the border of Wren's Crossing.
As your eyes adjust to the light, you see just why Remington was so self-assured. The valley is filled with armed and armored Skeleton troopes poised to descend on the people of Wren's Crossing.
"So you see. You can warn my dear Lord Drin but I think he will be so busy defending his precious valley from my Skeletons to worry about my plague. Either way I win. So run! Run and warn him. HAHAHAHAHAH"
I leave the resolution of this situation up to the GM's capable hands
Skeletons: Swords: 1d6+1. Bows 1d8+1. Take 1/2 damage from bladed weapons and ranged weapons. Undead
To be concluded in the November issue of Sabledrake Magazine
GM Notes
1: The Plague
Due to the bad weather and other factors, a virulent plague has descended on the land. Unless the character is a member of a race (Elf, dwarf) that is immune to disease or a Class (paladin) that is immune to disease, he to may fall victim to the Plague.
For every hour a character is exposed to the weather, they must make a Disease check saving throw. Should they fail the saving throw, they will catch a cold and for the next 1d6 days. Are they infected? They will suffer from coughing and sneezing and be -1 to all rolls for the duration.
Should anyone critically fail the saving throw they have contracted the plague! At first it will appear as if they have a cold just like everyone else, but in 1d6 hours that cold will worsen to a flu. Hot and cold flashes will come next, and they will become nauseous and tired and be -3 to all rolls due to dizziness. About 1d6 hours after that her body will slowly begin to break out with ugly red splotches and a foul smell will begin to come off them. At this point they will pass out and begin to take actual damage as the Plague attacks the lungs. The victim will lose 1 point of Health (Con) per hour until the Plague is dealt with or death ensues.
There are only two cures available for the plague (three if you allow magic). One is the remedy Raif was working on and the other is the antitoxin in the possession of Remiington (See above).
2: Black Wounds
I discussed this ability of the Undead in last October's issue of Sabledrake, but it bares repeating considering how many Undead are in this adventure.
Any character (except for Elves) struck by a Ghoul; Wraith or other powerful Undead will receive what is known as a "Black wound" or Taint. This insidious infection id the ultimate cures of the Undead.
At first the victim will feel no effect other then the painful stinging of the wound, but as time passes the effects are felt. The victim will loose 1 point of Charisma and 1d6 hit points a day until the Black Wound is cleansed and healed. Should this cause the characters Charisma or Hit points to drop to 0 they die, and what's worse they will raise from the dead in 1d6 hours as a Wraith!
Other then Magic, there are very few known cures for a Black Wound. Rest in a holy place (such as a sanctified temple) or a place of Light (such as an elfish haven) can cure a Black Wound if given enough time. Also an herbal drought made from the rare Snow Flower can also cure it. A high level herbalist like Raif may know of other natural ways as would a Necromancer like Remington.