Session Ten
On the 10th of Vinethelen, the adventurers had finally reached the aerie of the great roc said to guard the Carnelian Idol. At the foot of the nest was a graveyard of massive bones – bears, camels, and other, larger creatures, their ribs cracked as if by one fell swoop. Even this did not prepare them for the true size of the roc, whose wings were each larger than any ship on the seas. “Who visits Majid, He Who Flew With the Prophet?” roared the great bird.
“We have come to pay tribute,” responded Ethlyn, perhaps on instinct. The adventurers brought forward gifts, including gold coin, masks of Cynidicea, and a camel. The roc raised its great talons in the air. “It has been long since I was remembered… Your gifts please me. You may touch my feathers.” With friendly relations established, the party began to converse with the might roc.
Majid explained that the Carnelian Idol had fallen into the hands of Al-Sindor when Nudurapur was slain. Al-Sindor felt that that immortality was sacrilegious for man, but he was unable to destroy the idol. Majid was entrusted to be its guardian, and has lived for over a thousand years. “Too long… I yearn to fly again among the mountains, free of my burden. I seek another who will take up the guardianship.” Mahmud, paladin of Imran, kneeled to volunteer but the roc shook its head.
“It is no easy task to guard the Carnelian Idol. Before I can trust you with it, you must prove your worth. Return to me with wisps of darkness drawn from the Well of Shadows in the Howling Emptiness, and I will know that you can be trusted with its care.” Majid and the party swore that they would do this and solemnly made to depart. As they left, the sad old roc had words of caution. “Many have vowed to undertake this task. None have ever returned to me. May the hand of Fate deal gentler with you.”
The party decided that before it could undertake an expedition into the Howling Emptiness, far to the southwest, it would need more men, camels, and supplies. These, they surmised, could best be found in Alakyrum, the Pearl of the Desert, capital of Opelenea. Kirkuk lay along a caravan route to Alakyrum, but getting to Alakyrum by way of Kirkuk would take six days. The adventurers estimated they could cut through the desert directly towards Alakyrum and get there in three.
Somewhere in the high, rolling dunes east of the Al-Baki Hills, the party lost its way, steering an easterly course when it ought to have gone north-east. Perhaps their brief flight from the strange, iron-skinned bulls that pursued them through the hills caused their disorientation. Perhaps it was sun sickness, or perhaps it was simply the Hand of Fate. Whatever the cause, after three days of travel Alakyrum was nowhere in sight.
The party was following the course of an ancient riverbed, now a dusty wadi, when a sudden autumn torrent poured down on them. The riverbed quickly flooded, and the party took what scant shelter it could. The rains ran for over an hour, then passed as quickly as they’d come. Traveling further along the riverbed, the party saw that the rains had washed away sand and gravel, revealing the entrance to some ancient tomb or temple.
Surmising that Fate was smiling upon them, the party decided to explore this ruin. They quickly forced open its stone outer doors and entered a large hall. Their flickering torchlight revealed a dozen sepulchers – but did not reveal the dozen incorporeal shadows until they had already set upon the party. Sharik and Rakh, who had gained dark connections to the netherworld when they were returned from the dead, were the primary targets of the attacks. Sharik was able to summon mujahedeen to protect himself, but Rakh had no such power. As his body weakened from the draining coldness of the shadows, he fell hard onto a stone sepulcher, knocking out two fangs. Fortunately, Mahmud, Ethlyn, and Senef were able to drive off the creatures.
The adventurers retreated from the tomb and, as it was getting late, decided to camp nearby. Senef summoned the local jinn and made inquiries. The spirits told him that he need not fear the return of the shadows, but he should be wary of what lay past the entry hall in the tomb. They also told him to stop heading east, because Alakyrum wasn’t that way, an revelation which elicited great consternation from the very, very lost party.
The next day, 14th of Vinethelen, the party decided to head back into the tomb. Past the sepulchers was a stone slab, grooved hinges visible, but with no apparent handle or mechanism of entry. A name on the stone slab read “Shaddad, Terror of Genies.” Ethlyn recalled a legendary warrior named Shaddad, said to have wielded a scimitar called The Cyclone of the Four Quarters, who had brought down a curse upon himself for slaying too many genies. Senef’s shamanic powers detected a curse on the entire tomb.
Zoya stalked forward to investigate the door to Shaddad’s tomb, and quickly realized she was standing on top of a pit-trap: Only Fate had avoided setting it off. She quickly grabbed a rope from Mahmud, but as Fate would have it, when she tried to spring off the trap, she stumbled, and the pit swung open. She crashed down below, dangling perhaps 10 feet. She could feel the cold hands of zombies clawing at her heels in the darkness below, and scrambled up in haste.
The adventurers decided to deal with the pit trap and its occupants before trying to open the stone slab door. Their plan was simple and effective: They propped open the trap door with the lid of one of the twelve sarcophagi in the room, then crushed the zombies in the pit by sliding the other sarcophagi lids on top of them. It was over quickly, and after determining that no treasure was to be found in the pit, the party turned to the tricky proposition of opening up the stone slab door.
Mahmud and Zoya carefully hammered a dozen stone spikes into the door, through which rope was interwoven, creating a handle, and then Sharik conjured a slippery oil into the door’s grooves. With the stone now frictionless, the slab door opened easily, revealing the undying figure of Shaddad, Terror of Genies, within. Shaddad warned that the adventurers that to take his sword would be to call down a terrible curse, but the lure of power had touched their souls. Battle was enjoined.
Mahmud, Bechir, and Ethlyn tore into the mummy with their magical weapons, but Shaddad was a fearsome foe, and with each sweep of his sword an adventurer took a telling blow. Bechir fell, but Senef rushed to his aid and got him back into the fight. The old ex-soldier charged in again, this time taking a gruesome blow to the knee that sent him sprawling. Mahmud, Ethlyn, Sharik, and Senef were by now all wounded and the fight seemed lost when Zoya, the thief, appeared behind Shaddad, and proceeded to break her lantern over the mummy. The burning undead creature howled in rage, and struck at her, but she finished it off with a torch.
Senef got to work treating Bechir and Sharik against mummy rot while the rest of the group turned to the spoils of victory. Mahmud claimed the mummy’s marvelous scimitar, The Cyclone of Four Quarters, while Sharik took a fancy magical ring, and Zoya scooped up considerable coin, gems, and jewelry.
Feeling that for once, Fate had indeed smiled upon them, the adventurers departed the Tomb of Shaddad and headed north. Within thirty minutes of northward travel, they stumbled upon a caravan trail, and by the next day had reached the Oasis of Al-Danya, not far from Alakyrum.