Session Report #4: TO BRAVE SAMADI'S TOMB!

HUZZAH! The COMPANY OF HEROES has escaped from STONEHELL DUNGEON once again, enriched from STOLEN LOOT wrested from SAMADI'S TOMB!

Buendar braves the unknown!

BUENDAR THE GREENHORN held high THAT PROUD STANDARD OF LAW, joined by LARRY THE FRIENDLY LURCHER and BROTHER MELCHIOR THE ACOLYTE, with a respectable following behind, including: GAMELLUS THE GIRDED, DARIO THE DOGGED, DEGORE THE DISORIENTED, PON THE PORTER, MILO THE MEASURE, ANGUS THE ANALYTIC, REMI THE ROTUND, and BLAWYNDIE THE BUTCHER—a regular warband, ready to BEARD CHAOS IN ITS LAIR!

 

 The journey into the BENIGHTED HALLS OF STONEHELL went without difficulty, the ALMSMEN absent from the ILLUSIVE WODE and the ELFROAD clear between Stonehell and OLDE TOWYN. Our Heroes cut a straight path to the WHEEL OF FORTUNE, seeking the blessings of THE GREAT GOD CHANCE before plunging once again into the crypts of that 'Saint of Noble Rest', Samadi, from which they had wrested a wedding band during their last venture.

Luck was with our troupe of gallants, at least for the moment, with the Wheel portioning out experience points and extra spells for Larry and Melchior, and all seemed well even as they cleared an infestation of GIGANTIC RATS from their path.

Yet, Samadi's Crypt would prove to hold both WEAL and WOE for our Heroes in equal measure, as treasure and terrible fate lurked within that HATEFUL TOMB!

In that complex of crypts, each door is inscribed with an epitaph that mocked those fallen adventurers entombed within: 

To win her smile he'd bring down the stars 
Yet never a place within her memoirs.
Jewels turn the head, not quicken the heart.

Having won a wedding band from this first crypt, our party passed quickly by, on to...  

He drank to courage, sang to pride—
Then staggered in and loudly died.
The courage was borrowed.

 Wrenching open the door, they discovered a GRINNING GHOUL waiting within, who had just sat for his supper upon the dead drunkard, the tomb festooned with casks, decanters, and bottles of all sorts. After a brief parley, the creature of chaos was allowed to resume his awful feast. Moving on, they came to a crypt which read...

He paid in coin, for a conscience clean.
The plate collapsed. So did the scene.
A soul too heavy for Heaven's scale.

Slayer of Gamellus

 Inside, our Heroes found another of the CANID CANNIBALS, this one in repose after his dinner, sat atop an enormous pile of gold. Negotiations were minimal, and the foul thing fell to the righteous arms of those assembled—but at a steep price, for by the melee's end Gamellus lay dead upon the ground, his throat stuck open and his lifeblood pooling on the floor. Soon thereafter Larry nearly met his end when a false floor collapsed under his weight, revealing that sparkling coins for which the Girded One had spent his life to be naught but the lure of a cruel trap. Grumbling dispiritedly, they pressed forward...

 

 

He charged ahead with fire and flair—
And lit the fuse of his despair.
The bravest fool burns brightest.

 And but briefly paused to read the inscription above before choosing caution over valor, suspecting yet another trap. Next was...

He waited, watched, and dared not tread—
Till hunger claimed him in his dread.
The safest path leads nowhere.

 Another disappointment, the tomb bare save for the desiccated remains of a fallen hero who had starved in this terrible place, penniless and afraid.

He lifted them from gutter’s grime—
They climbed his back to buy more time.
First to help. First to fall.

 A trio of skeletons wrestled within, fighting over the final treasure of their former master, a golden crocodile figurine which would weep when it's owner was about to be eaten. Slaying the ingrates, the party took their treasure and marched on...

He crowned himself in gilded dread,
They say pride went to his head.
Ill-fitting was the office.

 Enthroned inside, a skeleton with a crushed skull wore a golden crown which our Heroes did most nobly pluck from his brow, grateful to the Lord of Light that no vengeful spirit was stirred by their trespass.

He played while all the rest were slain—
Encore! Encore! He died again.
A Bard's fate.

A pack of massive BLACK RATS, each the size of a Rottweiler, were feasting within upon the bard's mangled corpse, a prize which they would not quietly yield. After a brief struggle, the lot lay dead, though Buendar would suffer a nasty bite for his troubles. An engraved bronze armband was found among the remains, depicting a procession of skeletal musicians, led by a saxophonist wearing a jester's cap.

At the terminus of the Hall of Heroes was a stone door engraved with the SMILING SKULL OF SAMADI—also festooned in a fool's cap—which our band decided to brave another day. A wise choice, it soon turned out, for by dusk Buendar's wound pulsated with heat and that brave soul was but barely able to collapse into bed before the fever overtook him. Whether he shall ultimately survive yet remains to be seen...

The Saint of Noble Rest

MAY THE LORD OF LIGHT GUIDE BUENDAR ON HIS WAY—SO SAYETH YE OLDE DUNGEON MASTER! 

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