Session 19 Recap & Experience Points Awards

Rusted old double-doors of heavy wrought iron loomed over the scattered company, an unfamiliar seal embossed upon them: a robed figure before a mountain, with beams of an ominous light.  “Cheb dab baw,” it said, an old elvish phrase that only the mage Greyndalf—himself an elf of the Balvin plains—had heard.  “To punish severely,” it meant, or “to show no mercy.”

The party hesitated, its members weakened from tough fights with the yuan-ta and their determined ophidiae overseers.  But something must lie behind these doors.  And so the decision made, first to rest and recover strength—then to discover what curiosities these gates concealed.

The answer was eggs—seven long, thin ophidia eggs, neatly spread on a wool blanket in a round depression at the center of a trapezoidal room swept preternaturally clean.  Ever cautious, Greyndalf employed an unseen servant to gather them, which the dwarf Jowdain then wrapped in the wool blanket and slid into the company’s bag of holding.

The blanket covered an iron disc bearing the same symbol—the figure before the mountain and the rays of light, painted across the metal in brilliant tones.  Brief investigation revealed this disc to be a cover of some kind, but it proved too heavy for the company’s three strongest backs to budge.  Their failed effort to remove the cover proved a minor inconvenience, however, for a single tap from the rod of rusting soon transformed the imposing iron disc into a stream of ferrous dust that piled and scattered on a stone floor eighteen feet below.   The company fixed a rope to the chamber doors and climbed down into the darkness.

The surface they found below was slanted—a steep ramp dropping three feet for every five feet of run.  The solid stonework proved the six-foot-wide tunnel of artificial construction, whether by men or elves or beings of some other kind.  But the company did not delay its exploration; Greyndalf promptly affixed a light incantation to Jowdain’s gauntlet and the adventurers descended the ramp.

Within moments they reached the base of the ramp, a long, flat corridor running to the perpendicular.  It was there five grotesque figures ambled from the shadows, converging on the party’s leaders to give a most bellicose greeting.  These were maze ghouls, a formidable variant of the corpse-devouring undead beings the company’s original members had encountered in the Horl mud caves seemingly eons ago.

The tight quarters left little choice but to stand and fight.  But the company drew the initiative, which Greyndalf used to lay a slick of grease along the floor beneath the maize ghouls that his companions promptly ignited.  Gambol, the virtuous cleric of Cygnival, then stepped forward and turned several of the enemies away.  But the two maize ghouls that remained were not easily overcome, tearing into the company’s gnome, Schlemeel, with sharp, icy claws.

For his part, Schlemeel conceived a daring maneuver, by which he would run up the near wall and attempt to strike both of the foes with his whip.  But the plan faltered just as soon as it began, as the rogue’s very first step went false and landed him in the burning grease.  There, another strike from a maze ghoul’s frigid claws brought the gnome to the brink of doom—leaving him stunned and motionless in the still blazing grease spot.  Gambol and Jowdain promptly intervened, the cleric using his cure wounds spell to restore some precious health to the troubled rogue while Jowdain tried to pull him from the flames.  But their assistance only brought Schlemeel’s rescuers into harm’s way, with the burning grease igniting the dwarven warrior just as a vicious maze ghoul ripped its terrible claws into Gambol.

The withering fire had nonetheless taken its toll on the maze ghouls as well, however, leaving them weakened and vulnerable to the company’s resolute attacks.  The ranger Unagi at last connected with a bow strike, and Grayndalf directed a chill touch that rended through a remaining maze ghoul, and in moments the battle had ended.

With several injured members and many of their spells exhausted, the company pulled back to the near corridor to try and regroup.  But three maze ghouls remained, however—those Gambol had driven off.  And they hadn’t gone far.  The rest was interrupted almost as soon as it had begun, as the undead terrors returned.  Another intense struggle ensued, as the maze ghouls approached on three fronts and promptly disabled the party’s healer with a stunning blow to Gambol.


The peril was not long-lived.  Though fortune had not smiled upon him in the early stages of this adventure, the mage Greyndalf suddenly called forth three scorching rays, each of which zoomed unerringly to its target and deeply withered the attacking ghouls.  Together with a deft surprise attack from Schlemeel and another potent round of magic missiles from Greyndalf, the threat was soon brought still.

With the last of the maze ghouls having fallen, the party cautiously turned to explore the level corridor, finding several other ramps leading off at irregular intervals.  But what most caught the party’s attention was the faint outline of a door that Schlemeel spotted around another engraving of the hooded-figure-before-beaming-mountain symbol.  A momentary inspection revealed no obvious means of ingress, but the sorcerer Onog promptly solved the riddle by suggesting the old elvish motto the group had observed on other like carvings be spoken.  “Cheb dab baw,” uttered Greyndalf, and to instant effect: the door divided along the horizontal, with the upper and lower sections respectively receding into the ceiling above and the floor below.

The secret door had concealed yet another ramp, a shorter rise that emptied soon into a broad, rectangular room containing two strange containers: boxes made of an odd salt crystal that emitted a dull, bluish glow.  Schlemeel’s once-over revealed no sign of any mundane lock or trap, but the gnome drew a distinct intuition that opening these coffers would unleash some unknown mystical force.  The rogue dutifully warned his colleagues of this dire expectation, yet it was no significant deterrent: the salt crystal coffers surely held some fantastic treasure, and the company would not be denied.

Nevertheless, in an abundance of caution the company employed a rope to pull the lids off the salt crystal coffers from a distance, fearing what might leap from inside.  Yet the rogue’s premonition proved to bear on a much more profound eventuality—for when the second lid was thrown, the room filled suddenly with a pink-purple smoke and in a series of brilliant flashes there appeared three Firehounds, as if conjured from the ether.

Anticipating a different kind of threat, the company had clustered in the room’s center—an unfortunate deployment that the firehounds promptly exploited in blasting the party members with their fire breath.  The damage quickly mounted as one firehound after another unleashed its scorching breath into the company’s ranks.

Onog, who’d been continually frustrated in his efforts against the Maze Ghouls on account of their cold immunity, now loosed a hail of magic snowballs into the raging firehounds, instantly weakening them.  The ranger Unagi followed with skilled marksmanship he had not often shown, and suddenly the first of the firehounds lay defeated. The remaining two would meet their end moments later, finally clearing the way to the salt coffers’ wealth.

The treasure haul did not disappoint.  The old elvish phrase “i umath” (“The Truth”) was inscribed along the length of a fine shortbow, and a mysterious runed ring sat atop a mess of platinum coins and hyacinth gems.  The ranger Unagi found a snug black suit of studded leather armor +1, while the mages coveted a small book of arcane spells.  Joyously the company apportioned the take, adding in a fist-sized shard of green salt crystal they found across the room, and hunkered down for a rest.

Still, however, there would be no rest.  A fierce, high-pitched howl echoed through the halls and reverberated in the chamber, alerting the weary adventurers that something was coming up the ramp.  Nervously they rose, to greet whatever may come with steel, frost, and wizardry.

Adventure Notes:

• Maze Ghouls.  This variant of the common ghoul struck with much greater skill than the company had previously seen, and combined a tough, leathery skin with fluid, agile movements (AC 16).  Often, warriors struck by the maze ghouls’ icy claws would fall to the ground stunned as the combat swirled about them.

• Firehounds.  Among the most sophisticated traps of antiquity are those that conjure guardians to punish thieves and meddlers.  This appears to be what you found, as three flame-breathing firehounds materialized from the ether just as you removed the lids from two salt crystal trunks in a large, rectangular treasure vault.  The firehounds packed offensive punch (2d8 fire damage from their breath weapon), but did not prove especially stout targets (~35 hit points each). 

• Gravenite.  This unusual salt crystal carries a faint radiant property, with a dull, colored glow emanating from deep within the shards.  The coffers you found were large, their blue glow sufficient to illuminate much of the large treasure vault.  But even the smaller, fist-sized piece produced a distinct green emission.  Several party members wondered aloud if these crystals were magical.  “Not exactly,” answered Jowdain, a dwarf form the Decayne region south of Balvin Port.  The crystals were “gravenite,” an innately luminescent substance commonly found in salt deposits north and east of the Central Range.  “The salts are believed to have accumulated the residues of ancient magic,” Jowdain related.  “But if so, that accumulation is now their very chemistry.  Tell me, where does ‘magic’ end and ‘science’ begin?”

Experience Points & Inspiration  

The company defeated five maze ghouls and three firehounds in this session, earning 8,350 XP to be divided among the six player characters.  This equals a round 1,391.67 XP per character.  We will round that up to 1,392 XP apiece.

The company is also awarded experience for the following accomplishments:

• Recovering ophidia eggs, 120 XP;
• Discovering and accessing the (as of yet unknown) dungeon, 250 XP;
• Gaining ingress through secret door in level corridor, 250 XP

These awards total 620 experience points, for 103.33 XP per share.  We’ll round that up to 105 XP per character.

The adventure gods took much satisfaction from yet another arduous session.  And while Schlemeel’s prolonged dip into the puddle of flaming grease was perhaps the session’s most nervous moment, they found another to be most inspiring.  The mage Greyndalf, snakebitten by cruel chance through much of the early going, suddenly unleashed an unerring barrage of scorching rays that wildly swung the company’s fortunes at a most critical moment.  For finding redemption in randomness, one inspiration point is awarded.

Final Session 19 totals:

• Jowdain acquitted himself well in battle, garnering 1,497 XP.

• Gambol pleased his deity and is rewarded with 1,497 XP.

• Greyndalf remained a cunning and resourceful (and mostly naked) adversary, earning 1,497 XP and a point of inspiration.

• Schlemeel still don’t give a f*k, but he picked up 1,497 XP and a permanent burn scar along the left side of his neck.

• Onog played it cold as ice, and acquired 1,497 XP.

• Unagi looked fresh as ever and gained 1,497  XP.