"I just want to drown the little bastard out!"
The party are in the haunted and illusion-filled Von Galuss mansion, trying to recover the Book of Illusion for Talis the White, member of the dragon cult. WTF? That's a turnaround!
Starring, in order they sit around the table:
Nyvan, (played by Jason) a elven knight who needs to pay attention to what happened the week before.
Venmir, (played by Brett) an elven clergyman (absent this week).
Sigurd, (played by Iain) a travelling swordsman, with a heart of gold and a soft spot for children.
Rodin, (played by Lorne) the sullen dwarven axeman, who blames Nyvan for everything which goes wrong.
Nandrim, (played by Hilton), the world's most polite elven mage - when it comes to asking for magical items.
and The DM, (played by Alex), who loves to comment in blue. And writes this blog. He's also a bit of a git and likes to make life difficult for his players.
The search through the haunted mansion continues - but sadly they were a healer down. How would they fair with no healing? Read on to find out!
The party stood in the room with the strange bed which put everyone to sleep and the mirror with the world's easiest puzzle.
"I'll look under the bed..." said Nyvan, as the others looked on in stunned silence. As soon as he touched the bed, he fell asleep.
"What the.....?" asked Nandrin.
"Not sure." replied Sigurd.
Rodin dragged the unconscious elf from the room and slapped him awake.
"I forgot about the bed!" explained Nyvan.
They considered their options, and decided the best thing to do would be to fall asleep on the bed. They tied a rope around Rodin's waist, and he took a run up, launching himself onto the bed. He fell asleep instantly. They dragged him into the hallway and woke him up. Rodin's patience bgan to fail, and he pulled out his axe.
"Wait!" cried Nandrin, "Give me one more try." as he leapt onto the bed. Strangely, he stayed awake and found himself lying on an old bed, in a decrepit room, surrounded by the fairly fresh bodies on a number of men and women, both human and orc. The bed itself was ruined. He checked the bodies for loot, then afterwards explained what he saw to the others, who could still see nothing.
"Enough!" roared Rodin, who launched his axe at the bed, smashing it to pieces with dozens of angry blows. The others put their heads in their hands. To Nandrin, his asault had no effect, but to the others, the bed was falling to pieces.
After several more minutes of debate, Nyvan announced himself bored and demanded they all leave the room to look elsewhere.
They walked through to the next room which was obviously a child's bedroom. The faint sound of breathing could be heard, and they walked into the room. Except for Rodin, who watched the door.
Nyvan walked over to the crib. In it lay a small child, sleeping. As he watched, it twitched in its sleep and woke up. Upon seeing him, it jumped to its feet and began to cry. After several moments, it began to cry for its dolly. The party searched the room, finding nothing, but stymied by a toybox which wouldn't open. It seemed flimsy, yet nothing they did would open it, even trying to jimmy it open with a sword.
"Make the baby open it." suggested Sigurd.
Nyvan picked the child up, which struggled in his arms, and when he put it on the floor by the toybox, it scrambled back across the room and hid under the bed, crying and whimpering in fear at the men manhandling it.
Sigurd walked over to the child and put it back in the crib, where it continued to wail. He played a simple lullaby on his lute.
"Awwww...." said everyone else.
"Your lullaby has no effect!" said the DM.
"That's ok, I'm just trying to drown the little bastard out!" replied the minstrel.
The party considered their options and wondered where they might find a dolly.
"In the living room?" suggested Nyvan, before leading the party down to the first room they entered. This time, when searching the room, they found an old dolly under a cushion. They returned to the baby's room and gave the doll to the child - although Nandrin had to do it, as the child pulled away when Nyvan drew close.
The child happily announced it wanted to play, and put its hands out to Nandrin, who lifted it up and put it on the floor. The child ambled over to the toybox and opened it. As they watched, it clambered into the toybox and before anyone could react, closed it over its head, squeaking out a simple "tank ou".
"Fuck sakes!" cried Rodin, "Now we'll never get the little shit out!"
Nandrin ran over and opened the toybox easily. Inside, was a small metal A. There was some celebrating.
The party went back to check old rooms they had never looked over very thoroughly and soon found themselves in the kitchen.
Nyvan checked the chimney, and found a metal G embedded in the chimney breast. As he pulled it free and put it in his pocket, flames rushed down the chimney and burst into the room. Everyone stepped back except Sigurd, who dived to the floor.
A small imp appeared on the floor in front of the party.
"Die, buttheads!" it cried, and sent forth a stream of fire in all directions, burning everyone, even the prone swordsman.
Everyone leapt to the attack, but the creature seemed to be ignoring the majority of their blows. To everyone's surprise, and the imp's delight, the dwarf decided to attack what he felt was the source of the imp's power, and attacked the chimney savagely, leaving his companions to fight the imp.
"I try to find a bucket!" shouted Nandrin, "and fill it with water to drown the imp!" Sadly, the indoor plumbing was not functioning.
As the battle raged across the room, the dwarf carved brick after brick from the chimney with mighty blows of his axe.
"I'm trying to crush the imp with brickwork!" announced the maddened dwarf.
"Is the dwarf insane?" asked the imp, looking at Sigurd.
"Shut up and die, foul beast!" cried Sigurd as he swung with his blade once more.
After several moments of heavy combat, the creature cursed loudly when it's fire stinger missed once more, and with a bizarre hand signal towards the party, it disappeared into thin air after being struck by Nyvan.
The party relaxed.
With all the letters of the Von Galuss name collected, they walked up to the chamber with the hatch into the loft. Rodin waited at the bottom while everyone else went first, watching the door. Just as he prepared to climb the ladder, he flet a slight pressure at the side of his neck, followed by a burning pain across the side of his head. His hair and beard were on fire!
The imp clung to his back, cackling wildly and trying to stick a flaming finger in the dwarf's ear. Rodin was stunned into inactivity as the others leapt back down the hatch to attack. Sigurd was particularly acrobatic about it, heading down with a twist and a half-pike.
After most had swung at the beast, Rodin ran backwards into a wall, crushing the beast between his bulk and a loads of bricks. The creature slumped to the floor with a dramatic sigh and a curse, extending it's two first fingers at the group as it fell over.
Sigurd, noticing it was still on fire, whipped out his fleshy-oboe and proceeded to urinate on the imp.
The imp sat up immediately, coughing and spluttering, spitting out urine.
"That's disgusting!" it cried.
The party descended on it.
A few moments later, Rodin chopped its head from it's body.
"Just to make sure."
They went up into the attic.
The key fit together and slid into the lock easily. The magical door with the runes around it opened. Behind it was a massive storeroom. There was two large piles, covered in white sheets, and many boxes, pieces of furniture and piles of debris. A door was in the far wall.
They searched the room, finding a strange golden wand, and a suit of armour.
Sigurd snatched the armour from Nandrin's hands. Nandrin looked back, pointedly staring at the wand in Sigurd's hand.
"What?" said Sigurd.
"I want the wand!" said Nandrin.
"Ask nicer."
"Please may I have the wand?"
"Ok", said Sigurd, as he handed over the wand cheerfully. Nandrin looked confused.
"Look at this," announced Sigurd a moment later, having lifted one of the white sheets. Underneath it was a circle of boxes - and inside was a number of corpses.
"This is bad news," announced Rodin, let's leave them.
"Nah!" said Nyvan, moving a box out of the way. The corpses began to rise to their feet, anger and resentment in their voices.
"For fucks sake!" cried the dwarf, again.
"I call on the power of Corlolla Lorandian...err, Corolla Landrover......um, what's my deity called again?" asked Nyvan, as he prepared to send his god's power coursing through his hands.
Despite his blasphemy, his holy symbol filled with the power of Corellon Larethian, and the zombies mostly fled. The party chased them into the corners and carved them into bits. Rodin irreverently kicked decapitated heads around the room.
The zombies defeated, they walked over to the door. Behind it lay a large room. It was a laboratory of some sort, but the shelves were bare. A large chest lay on one side, and a huge wooden box filled one corner. On the far side, was a chair with it's back to the door, facing a large window out over the estate. A book sat on the floor, just inside the doorway.
Nyvan stepped into the room and picked up the book, before hastily stepping back out.
"We've got the book, let's leave!" suggested Sigurd.
Instead Nyvan opened up the book and began to read. It was the journal of Victor Von Galuss. It talked about how he and his wife had begun to research eternal life and his experiments had helped him develop a ritual to make him and his wife immortal. He began killing visitors to his home, until no-one would visit any more. Eventually, he was left needing one more soul. With only his wife or child to choose from, his choice was tough, and he chose his daughter, thinking they could have more kids. His wife then killed herself and he was left alone. Even then, the ritual didn't quite work out.....
"This is the book" he announced.
"That's because it;s over here...." announced a voice from the chair. A figure stood up and turned to face them. Well over six foot tall, Victor von Galuss was dressed in black chainmail, with veins of red across it. He carried a wicked longblade in his hand. His flesh was pale and turned smoky and indistinct from time to time, the smokky complexion spreading across his body, as if he were part-ghost.
"....and you may not have it. Although I do have a use for you." continued the undead monster. A large book hanged from its belt.
"Oh yes?!" asked Nandrin.
"Yessss, I only need four more souls to conduct my ritual again - and you four fools will do!"
Battle was joined.
The creature was powerful, lashing out with his sword in multiple directions, and reaching out for Nyvan, as if to stick his hand through the paladin's chest - almost as if the elf were his chosen target. Nyvan was not surprised, it was normal for undead beasts to target him, being the most holy in the room.
The creature slashed at Rodin and Sigurd, wounding them both. The party struck at him with all of their might, Sigurd reinforcing Nyvan with his battle songs, Nyvan reinforcing himself with the power of his god, Nandrin sending fireballs into the room as his magics protected the book and his companions, while Rodin swung his axe in deadly arcs.
Before long, the creature was sorely wounded. Sigurd lay on the ground, bleeding from many wounds and Rodin was staggering from loss of blood. Nyvan poured his soul into his attacks and then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Victor von Galuss dropped to the floor, his body dissipating.
The party revived Sigurd with a healing potion, and rested.
They searched through the room, finding little of interest before unlocking the chest using the special key. To Rodin's horror, it locked the door behind them, with no visible means of reopening it. While his outrage echoed around the room, Nyvan unlocked the chest and shovelled it all into his backsack (not a backpack, or a rucksack, it's a backsack).
They smashed the window, and climbed down a rope, before heading back to the hunting lodge.
They entered the manor after a short bad-tempered exchanged with Trepsin, the four-armed troll. He ignored them and they walked into the lodge, and were lead to Talis' reception room.
To Nandrin and Rodin's distress, she was dressed for war, but the encounter passed without violence. The half-elf woman filled her side of the bargain. promising them the password to the castle, and directions to Parnast and even, should the castle have flown away, wyverns to take them through the air to their goal. She dismissed them.
The party rested, ready to head to Parnast, where the next part of their destiny awaited.
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