With the virulent rats and festering bodies cleared, the party took a moment to catch its breath in the sterilized exsanguinary chamber. Too long, as the alarm bells, barking, and hurried gongs throughout the first level summoned forth a quartet of guards from below. With pack-like ferocity, they came at Vivianna. The witch managed to ensorcell one, but suffered multiple hatchet bites and clawed blows. Though the Dawn Knight took some scrapes and bruises, the collected party finished the gnolls swiftly enough.
Pushing deeper into the burrow, toward darker and decidedly less-traveled passages, the group came to the consensus vampires were the masters of the clan. Bite marks on many of the gnolls, bleeding chambers, ancient ruins, it all made sense. Donatella apologized for some of her race, noting when they weren't ruled by an iron fist they tended to suffer delusions of grandeur. Unchecked vampires would just love to dominate a burrow such as this, instilling themselves as kings and living gods. Terrorizing the local populace would be a bonus for them. And torturing such an icon as Avencia Dare, well...
Growing commotion behind them signaled a pursuit. Maia held at the top of the stairwell long enough to conjure a lingering red mist. Those that passed through it would be reduced to their most base animal selves, turning on whoever and whatever was nearest in order to tear out their throats. It was a good spell, and a better idea, unfortunately as the group descended they came to realize they'd found a prison... with no exit. They were trapped.
The ivory prison was constructed of ancient elephant bones lashed and bound with sinew and hemp. Despite nearly twenty starved corpses, half-eaten and spoiling within, a harrowed, bone-thin man survived huddling in a corner. Theros, Aleksi, and Vivianna unbarred the corral, and a cantrip from Maia flung to door wide. There was a stink, even in this filthy dungeon, that made them all cringe.
Aleksi approached the prisoner and tried appealing to what humanity the man had left, which slowly returned as he remembered his voice and rediscovered his senses. Living like a hungry animal had a way of wiping that all clean, and with no surprise. By the looks of the dead, the gnolls had treated these people savagely.
Among the dead, Donatella and Maia recognized a mutual acquaintance, a mage by the name of Ira Cantum. She wasn't particularly gifted as far as wizards went, nor very resourceful, but she was a thief and rather stubborn. Donatella purloined a trinket from Ira's corpse, which she had likely pocketed from a gnoll of authority. It's minor enchantment was similar to Maia's knock spell, but keyed to the burrow. It might prove useful...
Sweeping about for traps, Vivianna uncovered the means of their escape: a trapdoor in the center of the prison floor! It'd been masked by straw and filth. However, it was clearly trapped, ancient runes the Dawn Knight discerned necromantic in nature. Donatella had a closer look, admiring the skill and time it must have taken to imbue. The prisoner had quite another reaction, stark terror, and he wailed and scurried into a corner. What intelligible words came out were "Death's door", "Drown", and "Drircaul". He also mumbled something about three brothers.
The prisoner's racket was quickly eclipsed by the howls, snaps, and snarls of gnolls at the top of the stair, ensnared in Maia's red mist. There was no telling how long the cloud would last, or how many others would be drawn to the sounds of vicious fighting. The reaper went to work diffusing the spell-trap, which would have animated the dead around them into ghouls. Meanwhile, Theros took position at the prison door, bracing himself to hold off the horde.
*Zzzzt* The trapdoor's runic power was broken and none of the corpses rose. The magic rushed into Donatella's skeletal hand instead. It jerked to life and clamped around Donatella's neck. Its vice grip made audible crushing noises as she gasped and struggled. Vivianna and Maia leapt to their friend's aid, while Aleksi kept the mortified prisoner from fleeing to his certain death at the top of the stairs.
Quick intervention allowed Donatella to regain some semblance of control. The hand would always remain willful, though, an idle and mischievous appendage. She put its strength to good use prying open the trapdoor, revealing still, black water and a ladder plunging down. It had a strong, metallic odor to it.
The prisoner absolutely refused to go near the opening, recalling in his wide eyes horrendous instances where decent Avencians had been dragged through kicking and screaming. The druid decided it best the man escape now, handing him a magical crystal infused with weather magic. Mists billowed around whoever held it and their skin took on a gray and unassuming pigment. Aleksi instructed the prisoner to be patient and silent on his way up. Goddess willing, the man would again see the sky, the stars, and his family.
After copious thank yous and a strong embrace, the prisoner, whose name was Alman Shallyr, said firmly, "I will forever consider you like a brother to me. If you ever find yourself in my city, Hawkmoon, you will be treated as a king."
Aleksi thanked him and urged Alman into position beside the doorway. Just in time, too, as the red mists dissipated and the blood-crazed dog-men barreled down the steps. Theros met them, sword raised. A clang of flesh on steel resounded, barely audible over the snarls and barks. The tabari pitted his considerable feline strength against his lesser foes but, given their numbers, he would not hold out long.
One by one, the party leaped into the cold, black, metallic waters. Theros went lastly, both relieved and troubled by the fact the gnolls would not approach within arm's reach of the portal. They slammed shut the trapdoor once the cat-man was under. Theros' heart sank when he forced his eyes open in the stinging water only to find the rest of the party feeling blindly for the next tunnel, the next cavern, for pockets of air, for a lever to drain the space, anything. Soon their lungs were burning, and panic hammered in their chests as powerfully as the thrum of the Darkpaw. Was this the trap all along? Had they all just killed themselves?
Just as it looked as if the group would have to force their way back up or drown, Theros discovered a fissure. Maia swam through, uncovering a kind of chimney shoot. She swam furiously upward, her head eventually breaking a surface. She took a deep, desperate breath of putrid air, but air none the less.
The others followed, finding themselves in a cauldron-like pool clogged with the corpses of those who hadn't found the fissure. The bodies bobbed in various states of decay, stirred by a long, wooden rod. A blubbery woman riddled with bite-marks danced along a narrow ledge circling the pool, chanting lowly to herself. Her nimbleness betrayed her tremendous weight.
When she realized the party was upon her, most had managed onto the ledge. At first she was amazed at the sight of living specimens, as she put it, but when she took careful stock of their armor, weapons, and overall demeanor, she attempted to ward the group away. She seemed to take a wicked glee bopping the wolf-girl whenever she attempted to cast a spell or manage on the ledge, and kept everyone else at rod's distance, but the situation didn't escalate into a full-scale battle until Aleksi caught her rod and ripped it away. Vivianna had tried to confound the dimwit into revealing what lurked beyond the cauldron, but she hadn't been particularly pleasant or cooperative. The only real fact offered was her name, Giberia.Without the rod to balance, Giberia fell head-first into the waters. As she slowly rose again, all the makeup, balms, and powders washed away, revealing a gray, undead monstrosity in utter denial of her state of being and whipped into a rage at the perception of being laughed at. The black waters churned and rose, now under her sway. The bloated dead woke and clashed with the living party.
Vivianna called upon the power of the radiant bow, one of her most powerful spells, and launched three dazzling bolts into the corpulent creature. She promptly exploded, leaving the others to contend with the zombies. They managed to dispatch with many, but not all, which clawed and bit into their soft spots. And with a sudden shock, one of the zombies battering the Dawn Knight transformed into Giberia reborn! Aleksi was the first to turn sights on the surviving zombies, understanding so long as even one remained that Giberia could plague them again. It was a mighty and hurried effort, but the group destroyed every last corpse, and Giberia was destroyed a second time.
Just as her gooey bits were sinking to the bottom of the cauldron beside the tossed-aside rod, Vivianna shivered and slumped. Long, shadowy claws had impaled her midsection. She was swiftly dragged half-way up the wall before the darkness coalesced into a crooked, gnoll with great bat wings, a snaking tail, and curled horns. Drircaul, one of the vampiric brothers Alman babbled about earlier, had appeared. And to Donatella's shock he was both gnoll and vampire, afflicted like the curse of old. He read her stare and ridiculed her "weak bloodline". He was what vampire was always meant to be, undead and possessed of powers beyond reason... powers the party was very soon to witness.
Notable NPCs
Alman Shallyr- An Avencian prisoner and lone survivor in the gnoll's prison of ivory. Aleksi's kindness to the man earned him a special place in Alman's eyes, once his senses returned, and the druid helped him escape using an enchanted crystal. Alman mentioned if ever Aleksi was in Hawkmoon, "his" city, the Izoldan would be treated as a king.
Ira Cantum (dead)- An acquaintance of both Donatella and Maia through different circumstances, neither seemed surprised to find her dead in a gnollish prison. She had a magical trinket that might prove useful in bypassing several wards or locks set in the burrow.
Giberia of the Corpse Waters (deader)- A corpulent undead woman caked in balms, simple-minded in her reanimation and in denial about her condition. She possessed a curious, wooden Rod of Reaching and proved capable of raising zombies, controling the "Corpse Waters", and perpetuating herself in nearby undead.
Drircaul, Death of Day- A powerful gnollish necromancer, one of three ruling brothers who seem to have contracted vampirism... something long thought impossible since Gabriel's Culling reshaped the vampiric race into living, breathing, child-bearing creatures over seventy years ago. If vampirism is again a curse, this could prove detrimental on so, so many levels...
Treasure
The Idle Hand (Donatella)- Your skeletal hand is no longer your own, not entirely. If left to its own devices, it will cause mischief and mayhem! You can bet a lot of your 5's consequences will involve it. That said, if you're ever helpless (unconscious, dying, etc.), it will try to protect you (because it's attached to you) and can even cast spells on your behalf! Those spells are probably the kind meant to kill enemies or protect you, to the Hells with the others, but still.
Rod of Reaching (wood, +2 attacks and damage)- The bending of spaces allows this bargeman's rod to poke, bop, and batter from all distances. It allows for melee attacks on engaged and nearby enemies. You can also make a melee attack on a far away enemy, but must then roll a hard save (16+) to regain the usage.
Pendant of Passage (Donatella)- A pendant enchanted with a specific knock spell keyed to the burrow.
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