Condemned Clean-up
| Condemned Clean-up | |
|---|---|
| Date | March 8th, 2023 |
| Storyteller | Indi |
| Tier | Trainee |
| Player Characters | Femi, Bomrek Datan-Zon, Zokun Datan-Zon, Tesa Tiet |
| Rewards | 232 XP, Dr. Sorenvan's Journal, alchemists tools, nectar of purification, potency crystal, everburning torch, 4gp ea. |
| Result | Success |
| Author | The Splendid Serpent |
Journal of Bomrek Datan-Zon
Forty years since the Great Dishonor.
Word came down that the Round Table Council needed a few sturdy lads to help clear one of the abandoned houses in Little Monarch, seems that the workers were scared off by “strange noises” or some such rot. Well, sounded like easy money, so Zokun and I decided to head down and lend a hand since Aroth was still sleeping off last night’s drink. Arrived at the place to find the two lasses we’d been paired with, a ratfolk that looked like she’d just crawled up outta the sewers, and a goblin deaf as a cave clam. Think their names were Femi and Tesa.
We decided to scope the place out a bit, see if’n we can find a good way in. Went around back and saw the place had a shed, decided to bust the lock off and see what was what. Full of rotten produce mostly, but also found a good condition alchemy set, so not a total scuff. Lotta old winter gear tucked away too, strange since it never gets that cold round these parts. The goblin managed to pick the lock on the back door, get us in the building proper before she scampered off inside. Rest of us followed after a bit more cautious. Back way led into a bedroom of sorts, where a broom was sweepin’ up the place on its own accord. It let me an’ Zokun on in just fine, we made sure to wipe our feet and keep our hands to ourselves so as not to displease what may be a haunt. One must always respect the honored ancestors, even if they are not your own kin. It needed some convincing to let Femi in though, suppose it didn't like rats. Anyway deeper in we found a grate hidden under a rug, led down into a tunnel under the house. Couldn't keep the goblin from divin’ in, not that we tried that hard mind. She musta tripped a trap on the way down there too, heard a loud shriek and the flash of fire, what would be our first encounter with the damned fire bird engraving. Some sorta magic trap that would relocate and reactivate after each time we set it off. Damn thing gave us quite a bit o' trouble, but Femi managed to deal with it eventually.
Well, Femi went down to make sure the goblin was ok, an' Zokun and I followed after shortly. The entrance was lit by a lantern still flickering after who knows how long, but the rest of the tunnels were almost pitched black. No trouble for a dwarf or goblin, but our rodent friend had to rely on her own seein’-eye rat. She tried usin' magic to create light to see by in one of the bigger rooms, some chamber stinking of old human beer and filled with leaky casks, but unfortunately the place wasn't as empty as it seemed. The light drew out the booze oozes that had been forming in those barrels for ages; what was normally a minor pest had grown big enough to put up a fight. Dreadful things form when you leave alcohol sitting too long, think the yeast gets uppity. Got quite the scrap from ‘em, they even managed to down the gobbo. Tried to drag her back into the barrel and make a light snack of her once she stopped struggling. Woulda made her into goblin flavored beer I suppose, can’t say that’s a vintage I want to try. Not that the things tasted good to start, chugged most of one and it just tasted of rotten eggs and stale ale. Lucky for us, they gave up the fight when the light was snuffed out. Good thing too because the huge barrel at the end of the room was starting to creak something fierce. Wouldn't have wanted to face down the big bastard that lived in there. Zokun found a potency crystal in the remains of one of those oozes while I got everyone patched up, and we set in deeper.
Found a room filled with old arms and armor. All too rusted to be of any use except maybe as scrap iron, but we can always use more scrap. In the same room the pathways split, and we lost the goblin once more. Tryin’ to find her we stumbled upon a summoning trap of sorts, were set upon by mephits in the southern chamber. Cut me up but we managed to deal with ‘em, found some nectar of purification in the room so it wasn't a bust. In the northern room we found our goblin again, rummaging through some old books. That room was... strange to say the least. The rest of the way there were insects, some lichens, the sortsa stuff you expect to find in the underground, but not here. Not a single living thing, save this orange fungus that was growing in all the nooks and crannies of the place. The room looked like it was built to house and train a small force of fighters. Beds, training dummies, manuals of ranging and arms... if the place wasn't so well hidden I woulda thought it to be an old adventurer's guild or guard barracks. It even had a forge.
The forge was well put together, excellent craftsmanship. Constructed of dolomite, which isn't native to this region and so the labor and materials were likely imported. The chimney was rather complex as well. I didn't get to take a good look at the thing, but it must have run up through the structure in a way that curved around either to hide the source of the smoke or prevent backflow from rainwater. Most of the tools and smaller parts had long since been stripped or deteriorated, but the anvil was in excellent condition. A bit rusty, but could be easily refurbished.
Sometime while we were inspecting the forge, our companions found a side office. Within was a body, looked like it had been melted into the couch it was resting on. It was... unsettling. In spite of how old it musta been, it had no signs of rot at all. Like the carrion feeders wouldn't even go near the thing. It was all burned up on the outside, but not in any normal way. It hadn't been burned by normal fire. When I cut the thing open, it wasn't cooked on the inside at all, but it was filled with growths. The poor bastard was riddled with tumors. Dunno what exactly did him in in the end, between the burns and growths, but it was hell of a nasty way to go. In the lead-lined case in his desk we found a journal, revealed the unfortunate fellow was a Dr. Sorenvan. This is where things get a bit outta hand.
See, old Dr. Sorenvan's journal talks about his expedition to a frozen land called Tilfel. Based on what little of the journal survived, seems while there he met someone called the "Woman of Winter" who showed him how to reach a location called "The Place of No Honor." Site of power or some such. Don't sound too inviting to me, but he found some sorta crystal there an' decided he'd take it home with him. The damned thing must have been cursed, considering what became of the man. Its touch burns with an invisible flame, cooks ya with no heat. Least that's what we would come to find out, since it was around this time we noticed our goblin's pocket was glowin’.
The sprog couldn't resist a shiny object, and had found the crystal that done in the doctor. Judging from the blistering of her hand, the curse was well on it's way to doing her in as well. Good thing we stopped her from leaving, who knows what that rock might have done if it got out. Femi certainly couldn't tell, and she's one of them thinky sorts. Must be really bad then. I ran back up to the surface to fetch the council, figured they might know more. They sent along Viktor von Reuenthal to sort things out, and we handed the whole operation over to him. Seems we're free of curses, for the most part at least. That goblin's hand is right fucked though, gunna be awful hard to use for a while at least.
We divided up the goods in the end, went back to our lives. I kept that journal though, something about it… can't get it outta my head. The Woman of Winter, this "Place of No Honor…" I get the feeling this isn't something that will just rest. Some things ought be left well enough alone they say, but… perhaps someday we should to try to find this place ourselves. Put together our own expedition, and see if we can't put an old ghost to rest…
Duthnur ellest nashon Dranngvit.