Saturday, August 2, 2008

Morning of the Living Dead

Summary:

Newly arrived at Winterhaven, Gilic and Queequeg are politely but firmly escorted to the master of the small town, a Lord Padreg. He confirms that a priest was sent to elicit aid for the town and frowns upon hearing that the messenger was waylaid by street toughs. Lord Padreg thanks for the dynamic duo for coming to Winterhaven's aid and proceeds to lead them to a room full of peer adventures, freshly returned from nearby Shadowfell Keep. It seems the Cult of Shar works some evil scheme from within those walls, menace and ill-fortune that beats upon Winterhaven and the surrounding lands like tide on a beach. The adventures introduce themselves cordially, if not a bit warily.

Sister Linora enters the room not long after. She speaks to the party, though Gilic and Queequeg follow little of it. Weapons are nearly drawn and blood spilt when a wizened old man suddenly materializes before the roomful. He apologizes for working magic to make himself unseen; he comes off as paranoid and prophetic, reminding the party of a dark missive that described shipment of food and supplies to nourish a necromantic ritual.

Valrum the Prescient also recounted the tale of Jerold Qeegan, an aristocrat who lived in Shadowfell Keep thousands of years ago. Jerold hunted dragons for sport and managed to corner the shadow dragon Shardrexyl and occupy him long enough to conduct a ritual that (NOT SURE WHAT IT DID). Shardrexyl had the last laugh though. The shadow dragon managed to by-pass the ritual and trick Jerold into thinking his family conspired against him. The knight went mad with rage and systematically murdered every member of his family. The Keep has remained cursed ever since.

A guard suddenly barrels into the room, winded and pale. "Dead. Walking again. Graveyard, just outside of town."

Lord Padreg appeals to the adventurers to confront the newly emerged evil. The party debates not at all, striding confidently to the outskirts of town. A horrific sight greets them: the town's ancestors, newly risen for certain grisly boon. The party wastes little time confronting the enemy, a mixture of bow-wielding zombies and rabid hell hounds. Ninaran peeks out from atop a crypt and begins showering arrows upon the party as well. The adventures give what they take. After the undead are slain and Ninaran shot down, the party looks to rest.

It's not to be. A foul necromancer bursts out of the ground. As exploding rotted earth showers around him, he raises a limp wrist around the graveyard and more undead come hurling from long dormant graves. The party goes to work again, cutting and bashing the new arrivals with a zeal equal to the first wave they faced. They quickly focused in on the controlling necromancer and the glowing rune that pulsated with almost tangible evil. After the last zombie was dispatched and the necromancer permanently silenced, the rune was nullified so that its eerie glow slowly faded.

From the corpse of Ninaran, a scroll was found. It said "From the ground some magic was found," hinting access to a new level of ShadowFell Keep.

TO BE CONTINUED

Phat Lewt:

32.5 gold per

Line(s) of the Night:

Come here boy and swing from these - Craig, referring to his man breasts

Strike, Gilic, my little tator tot! - A reference to Blake mishearing James

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