The Dark Hollow - Sessions - First Rotation - part 1
From Black Country Role Playing Society
Contents |
SESSION ONE
Mordigan is described by many in Everlund as a harmless lunatic, but the church of Pelor cannot afford to dismiss the old man’s warnings. The aged seer has described two sources of evil that grow ever stronger in his dreams and visions and the church feels it has a duty to investigate. Mordigan’s scrying pinpoints the sources of evil and maps are drawn by the city’s finest cartographers. The maps are provided to two separate parties assembled by the church and each is sent forth on a mission to locate and destroy the sources of evil.
One of the sources is identified to be in the vicinity of Ironhold Mountain. The party is despatched northwards across the frozen wastelands to the mountains of the Spine of the World. On arrival, the old mine beneath mountain was found to be occupied. It would seem that it serves as the home of a tribe of goblins – the Ironhold Goblins. The tribe exists on the fringes of a frozen civilisation and they exhibit all the simplicity and naivety of an isolated group.
The party's initial introduction to the romance of adventure was to fall foul of the very first hurdle -setting off the simple trap designed to guard the lair’s entrance. The party swiftly delivers retribution upon the goblin sentries. The majority of the tribe, including the women and children have ‘holed up’ within the tribe’s main dormitory and the party bypassed them to explore deeper into the lair.
A locked, crude wooden door with an ill fitting frame guarded the entrance to a large and dank, cavernous space. The inhabitants of the cavern soon came shuffling into view when the party opened the door and spilled light into the cavern . The zombies were a mix of human and goblin. Exactly why a bunch of zombies should be found locked in a cavern within the goblin lair is not clear. The only feature of the cavern was a hole in the ground with a shaft leading down to an oubliette. Ang’elda descended on a rope to investigate. Three bodies lay at the bottom of the oubliette, two were skeletal and one in a state of advanced decomposition. One of the skeletal forms was wrapped in some sort of cloth that looked remarkably well preserved. On retrieval it turned out to be a hooded, dark green cloak (+2 cloak of resistance). To gain the cloak required Ang’elda to step down from the rope to the ground but the ground was covered in a fungus that released choking spores into the air. However, Ang’elda seemed to cope with the hazard without succumbing to detrimental effects other than a few moment’s coughing and wheezing.
Penetrating deeper into the lair, the party moved along a long sloping corridor before descending a few short steps into an odd shaped open area in front of a pair of huge stone doors. On either side of the doors, jutting out from the wall, was a stone basin. Each basin had a drainage hole at its centre and the bowl was stained with dark brown patches. Above the basins were plaques etched with goblin letters: “You must make sacrifice to Maglubiyet”.
The party dragged a goblin corpse to the wall and let the last of its blood into one of the basins. As the blood trickled away into the drainage hole, the sound of heavy stone jams could be heard drawing back from the inside of the doors. Pushing the stone doors open wide revealed a round chamber beyond. The chamber ceiling was supported by stone pillars; the other prominent features were an alter behind which stood a large circular frame of stone that was carved with ancient runes and sigils. Within the stone frame was a black-in-black circle that exuded an aura of cold and unease. The purpose for which the goblins employ the chamber is obvious – it is a sacred space for the worship of the malevolent goblin deity – the giant black goblin known as Maglubiyet. A goblin priest accompanied by robed acolytes and a large bugbear were present here and combat was fierce. Bardryn the dwarf barbarian suffered grievous wounds from the bugbear and was beaten unconscious. The party’s plight did not improve when an impetuous Ang’elda charged across the chamber only to fall and land flat on his back at the bottom of a carefully prepared pit.
As combat continued, the bugbear provided raw muscle, while the priest and his acolytes worked with magic and cunning but eventually the party triumphed over their dangerous and determined enemy.
SESSION TWO
The heroes spend a while looting the lair and investigating the strange black “Mirror of Maglubiyet” and the large circular stone frame that surrounds it. The frame is inscribed with a script reminiscent of a form of Abyssal but is incredibly old – ancient in fact. The “mirror” was surmised to be a dormant portal?
A leather bound tome lay on the stone alter in front of the mirror. It belonged to Zulak, the goblin priest whose personal belongings were by now weighing down the heroes’ pockets. The book contained prayers to Maglubiyet, various tribal rites, a few notes about the history of the tribe and three rituals – which unfortunately for Endril Greengallow, the party’s ritual caster, were written in Goblin; a language he cannot read.
The party’s rogue, Korvo Kul’urian, is as fluent in Goblin as he is adept at pocketing small precious items. He read aloud one of the opening passages from the book:
“Blesséd be the day that our tribe first discovered our new home beneath the mountain. Looking back on it now, it was our destiny to discover this place of god. In god’s chamber stands the divine mirror and in its almost tangible aura we could feel god’s presence; for what else could it be? Glory to Maglubiyet for guiding us here so that we might worship him. And glory be to those who have received his gift by the divine touch of his mirror.”
It would seem that the portal has been in this chamber since long before the goblins ever set up home beneath the mountain and the ancient Abyssal script suggests that it could actually be centuries or even millennia old. But what is this gift bestowed by its divine touch? The heroes decided to find out. They burst into the goblin dormitory where the remainder of the tribe had made a futile attempt to barricade themselves in. The so-called heroes slaughtered the male folk and then dragged a helpless female goblin to the portal chamber and threw her against the black-in-black surface of the portal/mirror. She screamed her lungs out as her skin visibly began to turn a necrotic black and putrid green –in moments she was apparently dead. “Hmmmn”, somebody postulated: “So maybe this is where the zombies came from?”.
It was decided to destroy the portal. The ancient script was copied to take back to Everlund for study before Bardryn the barbarian, who had discovered a talent for song during his time here, used the stone alter table to smash the portal. The portal exploded outwards in a shower of black shards and splinters – the noise momentarily deafened those present – and then they watched as the explosion reversed itself. The millions of black splinters were drawn back into the space inside the stone frame and imploded – the blackness blinked out of existence, leaving just the stone frame which had lost all of its aura of cold and unease.
The heroes returned to Everlund to report to Morning Lord Kallon Latimer. He immediately set about the task of employing the city’s scholars to translate the ancient script of the portal’s frame. At this point a minor altercation began about which city had the most learned scholars – Everlund or Silverymoon? Whichever the case, it could take weeks to translate the script and in the meantime, the church has another quest to send the heroes upon.
There has been no word from the other party – those sent to investigate the second source of evil that disturbs Mordigan’s dreams. The heroes are despatched in the footsteps of those others, to the island of Tregarn in the Korinn archipelago, to ascertain their fate and to ensure the second source of evil is destroyed. The heroes are supplied with various items to augment their purchases from Everlund’s merchants and alchemists. They are also provided with riding ponies to speed them on their way and a purse of 1,500 gp to secure passage aboard a ship from Waterdeep to Tregarn.
Endril, never a man to miss an opportunity to make a few coins, set himself up in a little side business. He has in his possession a couple of parcels taken from patrons in Everlund to be delivered to their respective recipients in Waterdeep.
Waterdeep is some 500 miles distant from the Silver Marches. Travelling by horse this should take about eleven days. A monotonous, uneventful journey with nothing to do but watch the road, admire the hills and wonder at the ancient woodlands along the way.
The bandit ambush on the fourth day out served as an almost welcome relief to the boredom.
SESSION THREE
WATERDEEP
Following in the footsteps of the first party from Everlund, our heroes continued on their journey to Waterdeep where they hoped to charter a captain and ship that will take them to Tregarn Island of the Korinn archipelago in the Sea of Swords.
Aside from a small problem with a forest elemental, the rest of the journey to Waterdeep was an unremarkable affair. On the eleventh day since setting out from the Marches, Waterdeep’s north gate house came into view. The sea air and the sound of gulls welcomed the travellers before they entered the city to the wonder of its sights and smells.
The party split up for a few hours. Ang’elda had an appointment with a temple shrine, Bardryn had an appointment with a mug of beer, Korvo had an appointment with the shady underworld to sell a few items, Endril and Yana had an appointment in the city’s North Ward with Goldsmith’s Antiquities – the small matter of a small package to be delivered. The store was one well suited to its wealthy urban surroundings – a store of antiquities, curios, expensive baubles and specialising in jewellery. Endril Goldsmith was an eladrin who thought Endril the PC was taking the piss, “ What do you mean your name is Endril? – that’s MY name!!” A few assurances of mere coincidence later and Endril handed over the parcel he had been entrusted with. The package contained a gold ring, Goldsmith authenticated it before hastily wrapping another small object in a new package, slapping a few coins on the counter and charging the ‘post boy’ with taking a return item; “Make sure this gets back to Everlund, that’ll be all, good day!”. Endril the PC took the package and could sense it’s magic. Goldsmith didn’t say anything about how soon the package got to Everlund nor anything about it still being wrapped when it got there. Once outside, Endril opened the package – a ring, a magic ring – Endril slipped it onto his finger for safe keeping.
The party were to reconvene in the city’s harbour district in the Dock Ward, the oldest and busiest ward in Waterdeep with carts trundling through its cobbled streets taking goods to and from the ships in port. The character of the ward is defined by the large numbers of sweating, grunting and cursing dock workers, sailors, fishmongers, smugglers, miscreants and cutthroats.
In the harbour’s small fish market area there is an alchemist’s stall run by Mina Haswell, the recipient of Endril’s second package. The delivery of the flimsy white folded envelope delighted Mina, her cousin who lives in Luruar would at times pick the leaves of a rare plant native to the Silver Marches and send them to Mina for use in her tinctures and remedies. Mina was so pleased that she gave Endril one of her wares for free – a strange smelling liquid in a stopped glass vial. The party also did a bit of shopping at her stall.
“Tregarn!?”, the bar hushed at the name, “Tregarn?” the barman repeated again, “what sort of a fool would want to sail to that accursed place?”. Bardryn’s enquiries were getting him nowhere. There were plenty of captains and sailors in the Banshee’s Wail Tavern but none of them prepared to sail anywhere near an island that was considered to be so cursed. Instead he listened to the sailors telling their stories of sea serpents guarding the approaches through the archipelago and of sudden quells and storms that would blow up and swallow ships whole. Sailors are a superstitious bunch at best but the very thought of sailing anywhere near to Tregarn had them recoiling in fear. It would seem that finding a captain willing to take them to the island wasn’t going to be easy.
The party sat at a table across from Elias Stone, he had been recommended as being possibly the only captain in Waterdeep crazy enough to sail to Tregarn. Elias was captain of a caravel named the Siren, which had just yesterday off loaded its cargo of grain and he was soon to return south to the Duchy of Velen. Captain Stone was not adverse to the idea of making money by taking passengers on board – he wasn’t too keen to learn he would be sailing out of his way and even less impressed at the idea of sailing to Tregarn. Stone however wasn’t the superstitious type and if the money was right he might strike a deal with the party. However, there was one tiny little problem getting in the way.
After arrival in port, some greasy little bastard had snuck aboard the Siren and stolen a carved wooden idol, a holy symbol of the demi-god Valkur, from its niche in the ship’s figurehead. Valkur is the patron deity of sailors and Stone’s crew places great faith in Valkur to watch over them at sea – with the idol gone, the crew refuses to set sail. No replacement will suffice, Stone needs to recover the idol – no idol means no crew and no ship. The party’s social skills were found to be severely lacking and Stone was not convinced that they were worth the coin they were offering for passage to Tregarn and seemed to have even less faith in their boasts of being the very people Stone needed if he hoped to recover the idol. However, he did relent and stated that he might reconsider his position if indeed the party could find the idol and return it to him. The symbol of Valkur and 1,500 gold pieces will gain them a ship and a crew.
Korvo was in his element, hob-nobbing with some of the ward’s shadier characters – looking for a lead. He learned that the harbour district had been the site of an ongoing feud, a cloak and dagger war between two rival gangs. The local thieves’ guild known as the Dock Ward Runners was being forced to cede territory to a smuggling ring known as the Karlsson Gang – named for its leader. One of the Karlsson’s gutter snipes – a traitorous little weasel known as Black Jake had apparently been touting an idol of Valkur around the local taverns. Black Jake often frequented a drinking and gambling den known as the Kraken Tavern. At the Kraken, a bit of smooth patter and few drinks loosened a few tongues. Korvo looked through the crowd of patrons to the figure that was being pointed out to him – a dirty, sullen looking individual with sharp facial features and rotting teeth wearing a dark cloak with the hood drawn up. Somebody was leaning over Jake and whispering into his ear – people were asking around for him. Jake looked up to make eye contact with Korvo and then he was on his toes. A spry little weasel, he was quickly out into the street, intent on disappearing into the night; but the party were close on his heels in pursuit. Jake was up and over the first wall and leaping onto the rooftops of the houses below, he lead the party on quite a chase across rooftops and down dark allies but eventually it was Korvo who brought him down and Ang’elda was quick to pin Jake down at the point of his halberd.
After the initial denials of any knowledge of a Valkuryte symbol he soon began to squeal once the security of his testicles was brought into the equation. He didn’t have idol but he thinks he knows where it might be. A crate of symbols, totems and idols is due to go out with the Karlsson’s next shipment. Maybe it will still be at the Karlsson’s place down on Cog Street.
Ang’elda has no liking for thieves and as self appointed judge and jury he lopped off one of Jake’s hands. Korvo, the party’s rogue slinked back into the shadow at this point. Black Jake had the briefest of moments to come to terms with the fact he was going to be known as Lefty for the rest of his life, before Ang’elda corrected him - “Stumpy”, said the avenger as he cut Jake’s other hand off too. Jake was still a snake of a man and to prevent his escape the party decided to tie his hands together– an awkward moment’s silence ensued – “err, okay tie his arms instead”.
Black ‘Stumpy’ Jake was forced to lead the party to Cog Street. The ruffians hanging around in the street recognised Jake and were quick to draw their cutlasses seeing the party advance upon them. Reinforcements rushed out of a house to join combat in the street. Jake, his arms and torso still bound with ropes, took his chance to escape and ran to the house whilst the ruffians, lead by a hulking half-orc, engaged the party in a melee.
After session three – PCs have a base of 3,326 XPand are level 3 (Plus two characters earned a bonus 100 XP during session one)
SESSION FOUR
THE HOUSE ON COG STREET
After defeating the thugs in the street, our heroes inspect the Cog Street house used by the Karlsson Gang. Much of the downstairs is given over to the storage of crates and boxes of bric-a-brac, mostly stolen or smuggled goods. Nothing of interest was to be found – unless of course you count a dwarven cleric as an interesting discovery. Gordath is a priest of Pelor and Moradin, he is searching the house in an attempt to find his stolen holy symbol which he believes the Karlsson Gang have taken.
One room in particular drew the attention of the party – not least because they found out the hard way that the door was trapped. Korvo realised too late that it was possible to overturn the key in the lock before attempting to push the door open. Luckily for Korvo he escaped the worst of the lightning ward, Ang’elda was not so lucky and spent the next few hours smarting about it. He accused Korvo of being a rogue, Korvo took exception to the insinuation and corrected him – “I am a gentleman adventurer”. Beyond the warded door was a common room furnished with table and chairs and bookcases and a rug spread across the floor. Beneath the rug was a wooden trap door. The trap door had a magical aura about it, but before they got chance to investigate further, more Karlsson Gang mooks descended upon them. The lackeys dropped like flies but the dogs caused more trouble. Amongst the smugglers two of their number stood out from the rest as their appearances morphed to mimic two of the heroes. The rest of the party were left unsure of who to target. Gordath thought he’d hit one of the doppelgangers but actually it was Bardryn who took the full force of the cleric’s radiant smite. An insightful Endril managed to separate the doppelgangers from the heroes. He marked Bardryn with a light spell to identify him as an ally from the foe who mimicked him and to separate Korvo from the second mimic, Endril summoned a mage hand that continuously pointed at the true enemy in their midst.
Returning to the trap door; try as they might they could not open it. It was warded by some form of arcane seal. Endril surmised that if brute force, magical ability nor the professional skills of a gentleman adventurer could bypass the ward on the trapdoor then maybe a password would be needed. Exploring the upper floor of the house lead to discovering various dormitories and a room that was furnished for one person - obviously that of an important gang member. In a secret drawer in the desk was found a leather pouch of gold coins (180gp) and a parchment – Scroll of Water Walk. Before exiting the room, Ang’elda felt as if he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye – something on the wall. Everybody stared at the wall – there was nothing there. Ang’elda turned his head and was certain he could see something from the corner of his eye. He attempted to disbelieve that there was nothing on the wall and suddenly, appearing before him was revealed the aide-memoir of the room’s owner: Painted in large Chondathan letters was the password for the trapdoor – ‘Mermaid’. Of the other upstairs rooms of interest – one room was obviously used as an office where the gang keeps ledgers and such, Ang’elda, using an innate talent for finding magical effects and items, felt drawn toward a book on one of the shelves. As he leaved through its pages a loose paper sheet dropped from the inside cover – a scroll of Comprehend Languages. One dormitory had a single occupant asleep in his bed, he was rudely awakened to find Korvo sitting on top of him. The poor man was threatened until the heroes finally squeezed the following information from him: that a crate of idols and symbols was due to be exported soon and Karlsson had taken the crate to the jetty. The jetty was beneath the house in the city sewer levels. To access the sewer requires descending through a trap door but the heroes would need a password first. The frightened man didn’t know the password but luckily the heroes had already discovered it. The final titbit of information – Karlsson keeps his men in line by force of personality including an odd aura of fear, there was something unnatural about him. Karlsson also had a bodyguard that he kept close at all times – the man didn’t say much about the bodyguard but it was obvious he spoke with a sense of awe and fear in his voice.
Descending the ladder beneath the trap door our heroes find themselves in the city sewers about thirty feet beneath street level. A barrel of unlighted torches stood beside the bottom of the ladder that were used to provide a light by which to see. At a cross roads of tunnels the party turned to their left to investigate noises. Behind a crude iron door was a chamber and a second chamber beyond that where a man brandishing a hot iron poker was obviously busy at work in torturing some poor unfortunate. As the heroes entered, the gaoler slammed closed the iron barred gate that separated the second chamber from the first. The grating sound of iron plates moving against masonry walls was heard as circular drain covers were drawn back on both sides of the ante-chamber. Rats, big rats, dire rats scurried in followed by a huge swarm.
A few moments later the bruised and bloodied heroes had despatched their rodent adversaries and the torturous gaoler too. Whilst the party healed up Yana realised she wasn’t feeling too good – a deep bite from a dire rat had introduced filth fever into her blood.
Manacled to the wall in the gaoler’s torture chamber and on the verge of death was a pathetic specimen of a human being.
The XP award for session four is 950XP raising PCs to 4,276 XP and levelling up to Level 4. (two characters have 4,376 XP)
In haste at the end of the session I know I granted 2,200XP each but I forgot to divide the encounter XP by the number of characters. This is obviously an error. You in fact have 4,276 XP as above – characters are Level 4.
