Alison Campaign Log #11WereGamer
Alison Campaign Log #11
6/16/2007 9:46:11 PM
T’sarvold moon 14 – evening
We decide to negotiate for matched sabers for Cynthia,a flail for Moe, and if possible, a smallsword for Alison, special daggers for Bri and cutlasses for Marya.
We will be seeking specific vials containing the substance that Luck needs to complete the order. He estimates about two weeks forge time, but this cannot be completed without the vials. They are located approximately one week journey, and is underground.
Everyone but Benna, Moe and Alison return for the final negotiation. He will require 5 of the large vials and 2 of the small vials. He gives the group a map and general directions to a place on the coast and advises us that we need to enter at low tide. We will need to get in through a smuggler’s cave, then a large room and from there into a bunch of tunnels. He shows us on the map where we will find a cabinet and plaque on the wall where we will find some of the vials. The other vials will be in another room, where the corridor forks (he indicates on the map). There will be several tables – he advises us to take only what we need and to disturb as little as possible. Cynthia inquires about traps and guardians, he give us an object that looks like a salt mill, which he has been told is useful for getting in and out. (Sounds like zombies to me!)
He suggests we talk with “Old Joe” who may have some insight, and that he hangs out at a local tavern. They head over to talk with Joe, picking up Ali along the way. There’s a bunch of old guys sitting around talking and drinking. He’s an old sailor, full of tall tales.
Marya prompts him about tales of ghosts and creatures. He begins one of a haunted place he’s never been to…he met an old salt who had.
There’s a tale that’s told of a haunted place. I’ve never seen it myself, but I met an old salt once who told me he had. The poor devil was crippled and bent. He had a leg missing and his hands looked like they had been burned to the bone. The man was half mad too, if his mutterings were any indication. But a young lad who cared for him told me his tale.
Seems that nigh on 50 years before this old timer was a young sailor fresh on his first crew. He was sailing with a crew what had a mate that knew of a legend of hidden treasure. The crew had been granted leave here on Kori’s shores while their ship was under repair. A scant handful of them sat here in this very tavern and drank and swapped tales until late in the night. Before the night was done, the men made a pact to follow the mate’s legend and see if they could find the treasure.
The legend they followed was none other than that of the Golden Doors. I know, I know… fools have been searching for the Doors of Gold for centuries on end. But it seems that this fellow, the one what claimed to know the way, was book-learned. He insisted that he’d read a book that told him how to find them and before you could say “Avast all hands!” the other four agreed to go with him to look. Shows you what good book-learning does ya. Never trust something from a book, my friends. Especially after several mugs of ale!
Now according to the lad, it’s not clear whether the old salt and his companions were lucky or cursed, but he swears that they actually found the Golden Doors. Could be, then again might not. But this is the story he told when they found him 5 days after he and his mates failed to report back to their ship.
Inside he said was a labyrinth of tunnels and caverns. What’s more, the legend proved true. One of the first lines of the legend, if I remember rightly. Let’s see… “The last to leave left Golden Doors to test their mettle on those jagged shores. The gateway path is a vast, open space, but retracing your way leads not to the same place.” Silly as it sounds, ‘tis true. The Golden Doors closed behind them and disappeared, he said. There was no way out but on and through. And the place within was fierce enough to drive strong men mad.
They followed a path that doubled back on itself and branched off time and time again. One of the group fell behind the rest. When they noticed they waited and called out, but there was no answer. After several minutes they tracked back to where they had been, but never could find the poor sod. In the process they found themselves totally disoriented and with no idea of which way to go. Several hours passed in that place. There was no way to track the time, but it wasn’t long before they realized they would need to ration their water and what little food they brought. They decided to burn only one torch at a time, but even so they feared they would run out of their only source of light in this vast, oppressive darkness. The four remaining men kept together and kept moving until finally they found a small corridor that seemed to lead out. The walls were rough, not cut and smooth; and they followed it with relief.
Their relief was short lived.
They crept cautiously down the dark corridor, feeling their way at every turn. The air grew more chill with every step. The old salt had to bite down hard to keep his teeth from chattering in the cold. As they rounded a bend, the mate leading the way with the torch let out an unholy scream. He began to shake with the tremors until he dropped the torch, then suddenly turned on the rest of the group and screeched, “Why do you disturb my sleep?” From the guttering light on the ground the salt could see that he was spitting foam and that his eyes were dead white as he attacked the mate behind him. The mate fought hard, using all his skills learned in 20 years of fighting the scum on the Free Coast, but white-eyes moved unnaturally fast. The old salt and the book-learned one ran past as white-eyes slit their companion’s throat. They heard him starting after them and ran like T’sarbold himself was on their tails. They finally stopped when they reached a wall with rubble at the base. They listened, but didn’t hear anything behind them.
At this point the two knew they were going to die in the caverns behind the Golden Doors.
There came a point where he realized that the wall behind him was smooth and the ground he walked on was even. The ledge had given way to floor, and as he felt his way along the wall he realized that he had reached a door.
With fresh eyes they realized that there was a space at the top of the wall, as though the tunnel continued about 10 feet above their heads. They spend some time piling the rubble so they could climb it and managed to scramble up to the opening and continue on. The passage narrowed at times, almost too small for them to pass, but they continued and made it to a junction point of two paths.
They took a corridor and after a short distance realized that it opened into a vast pit. They couldn’t see either the ceiling or the floor. But they could see, far off across the chasm, something that glittered. Realizing that they couldn’t get out that way, the pair traced their way back to the junction and took the other path.
At this point, the lad said, the story gets murky. Apparently the other path lead to a room that had fearful monsters in it. The two companions fought their way through, but the monsters chased them down the tunnel as they fled. He talked of the burning, the horrible burning, and of nearly dragging his companion down the corridor with him. They reached a place where the tunnel ended and became a ledge on the edge of a vast chasm. Still the monsters chased them. He tried, said the lad, to pull his companion along, but he couldn’t keep his balance and hold the man too. The monster got the book-learned mate. The old salt’s last vision of him was him falling onto the path as the monster moved to devour him as their last torch fell from the mate’s hand and slowly tumbled down into the void. The old salt moved as far as he could down the narrow ledge while the light lasted, then felt his way in the darkness, always fearful that the monster was nearly on him. Silent they moved. He expected each breath to be his last.
Sleep claims even the most watchful of companions. Dropping with fatigue, the two made their way a short distance back to a space that was more open so they weren’t trapped against the wall. There, they chose to get some sleep. They took turns keeping watch and when they were more rested they ate and lit their second-to-last torch. On they went, away from the white-eyed monster that had been their friend and back to the rubble wall.
His story continues with the old fellow eventually being rescued by smugglers, who found him on The “it’s a bad place”
We acquire needed supplies in town and head out, staying off the road. A week later, we find ourselves in the vicinity of the Smuggler’s Cave. We do go in, several areas are filled with casks of vinegar and/or wine. Eventually, we find what matches Bri’s recollection of the “new construction” that was begun in the midst of a project by Korei – it is a doorway, and appears to be made of salt.
Forging along, we follow one wall to the right. Cynthia notices a series of “bumps” in the surface of the wall. Marya’s makes a connection that they may be representation of the stars, and tries to find if she any charts that resemble it (she does not).
Entering a large chamber, we find several scenes depicted in salt – a statue, a hillock with trees, a sylvan setting, wherein we find a statue of an “elf” with a hand against the wall and looking back over his shoulder. After much fiddly around, Bri activates a switch of some type, but we cannot find what it opens. continuing to search other parts of the room, another such switch is found and when it is depressed a door slides open, revealing another chamber. In this we find Korei’s Sunstone, a Traveler, three doughnut shaped stones with silver filigree and eight sets of stretchy clothing, which seems to have the ability to make one sort of fade into the background, matching whatever they are standing near.
End of session, 3 points.