Fate has a cruel sense of humor: with both hands I couldn’t land a hit despite having one of the best chances in the party, but once I lost one it seemed I couldn’t miss.
Session Five.
The party safely returned to Kirkuk, where some reorganization was in order. The fire of adventure seemed to have been exhausted in several of the travelers, and they spoke of heading on to Alakyrum for a more settled existence. [E.g. Tavis, Newton, Greg, and Greg were no longer playing.] Mahmud made a rousing speech, declaring that Fate had brought them together and each of them should serve as Her Instrument. Afterwards, Audarius agreed to serve as Mahmud’s chaplain and spiritual advisor, and Avda offered to guide Ethlyn in the ways of Annara. Kamishar surprised everyone by swearing to serve Rakh – the mindful Somirean apparently not sharing the prejudices of less-conscious men.
Stopping by the Mosque of Abundant Dreams to purchase holy materials, the adventurers encountered a merchant named Tavish ibn-Bahadur, who was supervising the treatment of several poisoned comrades. Tavish wove a great tale of woe, declaring that he had lost valuable goods to an attack by enormous scorpions on the caravan trail west of the village. His men were too afraid to go back, but he had heard from the Prayer Leader of the mosque that the travelers were men of repute and boldness who might help. After some haggling, the adventurers agreed to destroy the scorpions in exchange for a 50% share of the goods they recovered.
Setting off from Kirkuk on the now-familiar desert trail, the party soon encountered a large band of nomads led by Urabi al-Hussein. The two groups warily greeted each other and were already passing each other by when Raziel said “Beware masked desert raiders!” At this, Urabi al-Hussein wheeled around and demanded to know more. It turned out that Urabi’s cousin’s son, Mehmet, had been kidnapped by masked men that the adventurers recognized as Zargonites. “If you can find and return Mehmet to me, you would earn my eternal friendship in word and deed. And each of you shall receive his choice of a fine Opelenean stallion from my herd.” Solemn vows were sworn, and a nomad, Bechir, joined the party, so that they would have someone who recognized Mehmet and knew where the trail had gone cold.
The party knew that this new quest was likely to lead them back to the lost city, so they decided they should first recover Tavish ibn-Bahadur’s treasure, which was only a few miles away. The wreckage of Tavish’s caravan was easily spotted. Horses and camels had been dragged away by the monstrous scorpions, each themselves the size of a horse. The arachnids were laired in a rocky cave a few dozen yards from the east-west trail. As the adventurers approached the scorpion’s lair, the sha’ir Sharik conjured up fanatical mujahedeen from the very sands. [Summon Berserkers!] These death-seeking warriors immediately engaged the scorpions. Sharik then muttered some words of power and the distracted scorpions collapsed into a torpor, easily dispatched. “Most mystical master, you have successfully deprived your comrades of great glory!” exclaimed Barnabas the jinn toad.
The next day, the adventurers were back in Kirkuk and had returned Tavish ibn-Bahadur’s share of the goods and coins to him. Tavish was very grateful and swore to introduce them to his friend Urabi al-Chukri, a traveling alchemist. Sharik took advantage of the stop-over to purchase a surgical saw, a scroll, and a potion from the local herbalist-astrologer-sorcerer-barber, while Raziel befriended Bechir the Leper, a beggar, and asked him to be on the lookout for ruffians.
The party stayed in Kirkuk only long enough to do business, then departed directly, taking advantage of the cool evenings to begin their westward march. During the second night of their travel, Mahmud and Bechir the nomad stayed up late, swapping fables and tales of heroism. Their pastime was interrupted by a horrendous cry coming from their pack camel. A monstrous grey sand-worm had erupted from the sands by the camel and was chewing its legs off! The adventurers succeeded in killing the creature, which Sharik dubbed a “caecilian,” but not in time to save the camel. Using his new surgical saw, Sharik sliced open the creature’s gullet. Mingled amidst the guts and gore were some old Zaharan coins and an pattern-welded jambiya with an upper panel on each side carved with animals in a gold inlaid border, and an ivory hilt chiseled with busts of Opelenean kings and birds of prey. Ethlyn had fought valiantly against the worm, and sought to claim the jambiya, but Bechir stopped her. “Only one with desert blood can wield a jambiya,” he intoned. The nomad then ceremoniously cut his and her palms with his own jambiya, mingling their blood. “Now you may claim the jambiya.”
The following morning, the adventurers were greeted by a glorious omen: A flight of 7 lammasu, soaring amidst the clouds. “One for each of the 7 Empyrean Gods!” pronounced Audarius. Subsequently, the party reached the campsite where Mehmet had been kidnapped. Amusingly, the only skilled tracker amongst them was Barnabas, but despite considerable croaking and tongue-flicking, the jinn was unable to find a trail. It was an easy guess that Mehmet had been taken to the lost city, so the party headed off eastward towards Cynidicea.
Unfortunately, either Cynidicea was not eastward or the adventurers were not heading east. In either case, the adventurers became quite lost. Barnabas attempted to blame Sharik, but the rest of the party heard only the croaking of a mad toad. They blamed Sharik regardless for telling them that his toad could navigate. Senef made shamanic inquiries with the local jinn and discovered that the lost city was south east of their position.
Around noon the next day the adventurers reached Cynidicea. They promptly began descending, figuring that if the various brotherhoods controlled the upper levels, the Zargonites must control the lower. En route, they were attacked by vengeful Magi of Istanul. These sorcerers quickly enslumbered seven of the party, but their magics did not stop Mahmud and Raziel from wreaking death upon them.
At length, the party reached the fifth tier, a deep level they had not previously explored. In a well-furnished apartment on the fifth tier, they picked up a strangely-preserved white cloak, which they hoped would prove magical. While the others were arguing over who’d get the garment, Kamishar noticed a secret door and revealed a treasure vault with a huge locked chest. Raziel and Kamishar entered the treasure vault and began searching it for traps, neither realizing that the beautiful tapestry that hung over the chest was in fact a horrific shape-shifting abomination. The shape-shifter almost instantly incapacitated the two treasure-hunters, but the rest of the party members were able to slay the abomination. Raziel had merely been knocked out, but Kamishar was bleeding badly where two fingers had been crushed on his left hand. Sharik gleefully offered the services of his surgical saw.
After dealing with the wounded, Senef the shaman entered a mysterious trance. When he emerged from the trance, he declared that he had detected no curses or evil influences on the chest, though it was a source of magic. He also swore he had seen a spirit immanent within the white cloak they’d found earlier. Attempts to communicate with the spirit ultimately failed, however.
For the next two hours, Sharik slowly sawed through the lock on the chest (as they had no thief). The treasure within proved worth the effort, as in addition to substantial coin, they found a suit of seemingly ageless chainmail, a colorless and odorless potion, and a pattern-welded with silver wire inlaid leafy vine engraving on the blade and hilt. Audarius claimed the chainmail, Ethlyn claimed the jambiya, and Sharik identified the potion as one of invisibility.
Moving on from the treasure vault, the party made its way through the fifth tier. Senef guided the party past two ancient pythons that might otherwise have attacked them, and the party reached a gallery with beautiful iron statuary and tapestries on the walls. The party was suspicious that the statues were animated and would attack, and these suspicions were confirmed by a backhand blow that sliced out Rakh’s eyes. As the Thrassian went down in screaming agony, the rest of the party rallied to the fight. Non-magical weaponry got affixed to the statues with each blow, so only a few of the adventurers could reliably harm the constructs, but eventually they triumphed.
Senet and Mahmut were able to save Rakh’s life, but he was blinded and very weak. It was clear the party would have to fall back.
Five sessions in seven days. The envy, it burns.
No, no, no. We play once per week. I just hadn't written up my notes. Our next session is this Monday. :)
My personal delight has been that the bloodiness has been so ironic. The bard having her mouth crunched, the two sword fighter losing his hand, and the snake handler losing his snake... I couldn't make that up.
Seven sessions in seven weeks. The envy, it burns.
Session Six
With Rakh blinded and near death, the party decided to fall back to the surface. They had stationed a pair of mercenaries in a shady ruin not far from the pyramid, and it was to these two soldiers-of-fortune that they entrusted the life of their Thrassian friend, as well as the corpse of their nomad friend Bechir.
The party considered resting, but they were concerned that the nomad youth Mehmet might be harmed before they could rescue. They decided to gamble on pushing onward without Rakh. Descending back to the 5th tier, they advanced into a room guarded by a pair of monstrous winged statues. These gargoyles were invulnerable to non-magical weapons and would certainly have doomed at least one of the adventurers, had Sharik not unleashed the scepter of Zenobia, paralyzing the fell creatures.
The door from the gargoyles’ chamber led to a four-way intersection. As the party reached the junction, a trapdoor gave way beneath their feet! Mahmud, Raziel, Cleopas, and Senef all plummeted downward onto the spiked floor below. Cleopas had the misfortune to plunge downward in a cruciform posture in such a manner that the great iron spikes pierced his body where his upper arm bones fit into his shoulder blades, instantly shearing his arms off. His death from blood loss still took an agonizing ten seconds, during which Senef’s healing prowess offered no succor. They were barely even able to escape with Cleopas’s body, as giant lizards hungrily descended the pit in search of carrion.
Devastated, the badly hurt adventurers now had to retreat. Mehmet, wherever he was, would have to survive another day un-rescued. Back in the glittering light of day, the party came upon their mercenaries toying with the blinded Rakh. Had they not returned so swiftly, it was likely the hirelings would have hurt the “lizard thing”. To assure Rakh’s safety, Senef promised the mercenaries a bonus equal to 6 month’s wages should the Thrassian return home safely. The rest was otherwise uneventful, and the party returned to the lost city the next afternoon (10th Nethelen, Imperial Year 381, representing the 55th day of the campaign).
Now making sure to avoid the pit trap, the party advanced forward through the four-way intersection and entered a vast but ruined temple to the gods of Cynidicea. Beneath the shattered statues of the old gods were two red-haired Cynidiceans in fox masks, a man and a woman of magnetic demeanor. The pair welcomed the adventurers to the temple, and asked them to donate that the old gods might be restored. Senef was quickly bewitched by the enchanting female, Luin, and made a large donation to the “temple”. Avda and Ethlyn found themselves swooning for the male, Philistro. At Philistro’s request, Ethlyn donated most of her treasure and her marvelous dagger to “the gods”. Strangely, Philistro began swooning for the priestess, Avda, whose service to the Goddess of Love gave her a seductive allure and an enchanting aura. [Avda succeeded in a Mystic Aura reaction roll that charmed Philistro; meanwhile, Philistro had charmed Avda]. Mahmoud and Raziel interrupted the blossoming romance and demanded to know where they might find the priests of Zargon. Luin obliged and gave them detailed directions leading south-east. As the party prepared to leave, Philistro pulled Avda aside and warned her that his sister did not mean well, and to be careful. Avda warned Philistro to be careful as well, as not all of her comrades were enamored of him. Their mutual admiration was broken up by the rest of the adventurers departing.
Following Luin’s directions led the party through a series of rooms wherein Cynidiceans were dreaming together in strange and disturbing gatherings. One group seemed enthralled by a horrific nightmare; another danced to chamber music only they could hear. The third group was by far the most interesting, for they were engaged in extravagant games of chance. The adventurers began to participate in the games, and learned that the Cynidiceans expected priests of Zargon to come to collect a tax on the games.
Raziel, for the first time demonstrating that he was not merely a fighter, disguised himself as a Zargonite priest and began to ask where he might find the tax collector. This heresy infuriated the actual Zargonite priest, Darius, who had been watching the party through a secret door. Darius immediately attacked, accompanied by his retinue of eight hobgoblins.
The fighting was quickly and bloody. Kamishar was cut down, losing his left eye to a hobgoblin’s scimitar, but the other hobgoblins were dispatched without incident. Darius was seized by an invisible choking hand, courtesy of Sharik, and then disemboweled by Raziel. Throughout the fight, the Cynidiceans just watched, dreamily.
The secret door to Darius’s chamber was still open, so as the fighting ended the party advanced into it. There they found a naked, bound, and beaten desert youth – Mehmet. “Don’t tell my tribe! Don’t tell my tribe what’s been done to me,” he pleaded. The party agreed to let the youth save face and manufactured a story that he helped fight his way free.
Meanwhile, Raziel manufactured a story of his own, dressing up as Darius of Zargon and collecting over 7,000gp of “taxes” from the dazed Cynidiceans. The party decided to flee before they recovered enough from their hallucinations to realize they were paying taxes to a priest they’d just seen killed.
Unfortunately, the party’s escape route took them back through the ruined temple, where Luin and Philistro awaited them. The two “priests” asked for more donations to the temple, and Ethlyn, Avda, and Senef agreed to give them their share of the treasure. Mahmud, the paladin, detected evil at work. He, Sharik, and Raziel decided the time for cooperation with the wicked pair was over. When Luin asked “Why won’t you let your friends do what they will with their gold?”, Raziel drew steel. It might have developed into a snarling melee had Sharik not discharged the scepter of Zenobia. He had hoped to capture all of the charmed and charming characters, and avoid a fight. He was partly successful: Ethlyn, Avda, Raziel, and Philistro were paralyzed, but Senef and Luin escaped the wand’s effects.
The madness of friend fighting friend followed. Senef had seen his “beloved” Luin attacked without provocation, so he turned his shamanic power on Mahmoud, commanding he “DIE!” Mahmoud immediately passed out. Luin put her blade to Avda’s neck and demanded Sharik drop the scepter. Sharik responded by discharging the scepter again! Horrifically, Luin avoided the ray a second time, and incapacitated Avda with a vicious stab.
Luin then seized Ethlyn round the throat, and again demanded Sharik’s surrender. Again he responded by discharging his paralyzing wand, and again Luin avoided its dire effects. The paralyzed Ethlyn crumpled as Luin stabbed her. By this point Mahmud had roused himself and he charged Luin. As the woman desperately defended herself, she began to choke and wheeze – Sharik’s choking grip squeezed her life from her. Meanwhile Mahmud cut down Philistro. As the siblings dropped, they changed shape, revealing themselves to have been magical foxes in human form.
When Senef examined his incapacitated friends, he got good news. Ethlyn’s gorget had saved her life, and she was merely dazed. Avda had taken a critical stab wound, but not a fatal wound; her worst injury was damaged knee caps, broken where she had fallen on the granite floor.
The party quickly gathered up the treasures of the werefoxes, which were ample. Most marvelous of all was a gold-hilted scimitar with a moonstone set in the hilt, its blade engraved with the words “by the light of the moon.” Uttering this phrase caused the scimitar to emit a pale light.
Encumbered by the treasure and their wounded companions the party headed for the surface. En route they had a brief but friendly encounter with strange Cynidiceans who acted like insects, but when they safely reached their camp in the sunny lands above, they felt like they had achieved a great success. All that remained was to the trek home, where they could return Mehmet to his clan.
Imran seemed to be smiling upon them as they traveled home, for within a day’s walk they met a trio of traveling pilgrims, clerics of Imran. These men – Eliakim, Idan, and Ophir – offered to join them on the trip to Kirkuk. Alas, Fate had offered good fortune with one hand only to offer worse fortune with the other. On the second day of their trip, the party was set upon by a warband of gnolls, numbering three dozen. The creatures were armed with bows, and the party was encumbered with treasure and slowed down with wounded comrades. Battle was the only choice.
Sharik sent in waves of mujahedeen. These were slain. He emptied the scepter of Zenobia at the onslaught, but still they came. The heroic clerics that had joined the band charged forward, and were slain. Audarius, Ethlyn, Mahmud, Raziel, and Senef fought like caged lions. But slowly, slowly, the ceaseless tide of foes ground them down. After personally slaying a dozen gnolls, Raziel was hit from behind; his neck snapped and he fell to the ground limp. Mahmud cut a bloody swathe through champions to get to the chieftain, only to have a scimitar blow sheer off his manhood. He fell screaming in agony. Ethlyn revenged her friend, cutting the carotid and jugular of the chieftain at once with her magical daggers. Her victory was ephemeral; a moment later she was knocked to the ground and trampled, her beautiful legs shattered beneath the last gnoll champion’s clawed feet. In the dim swirl of the dust, Audarius felled this final foe. The battle was over.
But at what cost? Audarius, Senef, and Sharik began to tally the casualties:
· Avda: Maimed knees. Incapacitated.
· Bechir: Dead.
· Cleopas: Dead.
· Eliakim: 2 teeth knocked out. Incapacitated.
· Ethlyn: Lamed legs. Incapacitated.
· Idan: Dead.
· Kamishar: Blind in left eye. Deaf in left ear. Lost 2 fingers in left hand. Incapacitated.
· Mahmud: Manhood lost. Incapacitated.
· Ophir: Leg lamed. Incapacitated.
· Rakh: Blinded. Incapacitated.
· Raziel: Paralyzed from neck down. Incapacitated.
“Oh great and wise master,” mentioned Barnabas the jinn-frog. “I hesitate to bring this up at such a tragic moment, but it seems we strayed slightly from the trail and I am not entirely sure as to which way Kirkuk is.”
Damn that is a meat grinder! I’m really enjoying reading these reports. Some of my players have read them and said, yeah…uh, no. Interestingly, its merely luck so far that has kept things from being as bad.
Can I ask a few questions about the party make up? Is anyone level 2+ yet? Does anyone wear platemail or are they sticking to cultural conventions?
How did you run that swirling melee with the gnolls?
Sure!
Levels: Level advancement has been rapid. The fastest-advancing characters reached level 2 on session 3, level 3 on session 5, and level 4 on session 7. In general my group is very aggressive. They will descended to deep dungeon tiers in search of treasure. High risk, high reward.
As of Session 6:
Ethlyn, Mahmud, and Senef are 3rd level.
Audarius, Raziel and Sharik are 2nd level.
Avda, Bechir, Kamishar, and Rakh are 1st level.
Cleopas is 0th level.
As of Session 7 (which we played last night):
Ethlyn, Mahmud, and Senef are 4th level.
Audarius, Raziel and Sharik are 3rd level.
Avda and Rakh are 2nd level.
Bechir and Kamishar have left the party.
Cleopas is permanetly dead.
Armor: Opeleneans do wear plate armor. I've described it as Turkish-style mirror armor.
http://img365.imageshack.us/img365/2383/charainara023hk2.jpg
Gnoll Battle: I ran it using standard ACKS rules. Each of the six gangs of gnolls (3-6 gnolls + champion) got its own initiative die roll. The gnoll chieftain also got his own initiative roll. The battle started at a range of 170 yards. The party charged and took one round of missile fire before closing into melee. The players took out one gang with hold person and one gang with a wand of paralysis. That left four gangs (24 total gnolls) and the chieftain versus the melee combatants, consisting of Audarius; the 4 summoned Berserkers; Eliakim; Ethlyn; Idan; Mahmoud; Ophir; Raziel; and Senef. The shifting tide of individual initiative led to clumps of 2-3 PCs each fighting one gang of 4-6 gnolls. As gnoll gangs got cut down, the victorious PCs would rush to join other clumps, or conversely, if a clump of PCs got incapacitated by a gang, the gang would swarm other clumps. The fight took about one hour.
Session Seven
Lost in the desert, with only three adventurers in fighting condition, the party was in grave danger. Their survival depended on getting back to Kirkuk without incident. They spent a day constructing litters for the wounded and dead, and prepared to make what they estimated to be a two-day march back to Kirkuk.
Unfortunately, Barnabas’s navigational skills seemed to collapse under the strain. Though Kirkuk lay to the south-east, he led the party north-east for the entirety of the 13th Nethelen. On the 14th, he realized his error, but over corrected and steered the group south-west. When the party sighted a gathering of vultures over a heap of gnoll corpses, they realized they had wasted forty-eight hours traveling to and from their own camp site. The party was furious with Barnabas’ failures, and only through deft diplomacy was Sharik able to save his familiar from becoming a toasty toad.
On the 15th, the party set off again, this time correctly heading south-east. Their trek led them through the hunting ground of a gigantic tuatara lizard, but the beast was speedily dispatched with the scepter of Zenobia. As night fell, Barnabas (wrongly) began to worry that they might be heading in the wrong direction, and Senef resolved to consult the local jinn to ask for directions. After minutes twirling in an exhausting shamanic ritual, he was able to summon the resident spirits of the sands, who confirmed that Kirkuk lay to the southeast.
The 16th found the party traveling across a stretch of sand dunes on their way home. As the dusty foothills that nestled Kirkuk came into sight, however, the dark shadow of some draconic monster fell over them. The party was in no shape to fight a bat, let alone a wyvern or dragon, and their only hope was to evade the creature. Sadly, their slow-moving and encumbered party had almost no chance of escape in the dunes. But almost no chance is not the same as no chance, and the Hand of Fate saw fit to grant them a reprieve in the form of a rocky hideaway out of sight of the beast. [Sharik rolled an incredible natural 20 on a Wilderness Evasion throw, saving the group from a party wipe!]
And so it was by this miracle of Fate that the adventurers were able to return to Kirkuk on the 17th. Urabi al-Hussein was overjoyed to have his cousin’s son Mehmet returned to him, and tales of the adventurers’ exploits and rich treasure soon filled the camps of the nomads. At the local mosque, the adventurers turned to the grim task of spending their treasure on restoring their maimed and slain comrades.
Here, the Fates did not smile upon them. Cleopas’ soul was lost to darkness. Bechir, the nomad, was barely restored, and his ruined flesh had only a bare pallor of life. He would live out what passed for the rest of his life as an outcast. Mahmud, too, carried the pallor of the grave with him, and Rakh spoke of an evil jinn that seemed to now inhabit his claws. Kamishar, the monk, awoke to terrible, bottomless hungers. Overcome with woe, he left the party, declaring “the gods have cursed me. I must spend my remaining years in ascetic contemplation to atone for the misdeeds of this life and those that preceded it.” Raziel was restored vigorously, though he seemed especially hirsute.
Ethlyn, alone, seemed unscarred from tampering with mortality. Since the rest of the party was exhausted and bed-ridden, she decided to meet with Urabi al-Hussein to secure the fine stallions that the party had been promised. Urabi had picked out a beautiful white steed for her, but every time she approached the animal, it reared up in a panic and fled. Belatedly she realized that she, too, carried a curse from tampering with mortality. Crestfallen, she settled on a camel and selected some fine horses for the rest of the party. In a gesture of generosity, Urabi also gave her a map of Southern Opelenea, showing the locations of many oases. The map ominously warned against visiting “the Howling Emptiness” to the south-west and “the Desolate Desert” to the south-east.
Though excited about the prospect of new areas to explore, the party nevertheless had to spend the next four weeks in Kirkuk, recovering from their wounds. As Raziel recovered, he sought out Bechir the Leper, who had promised to find a ruffian for him. Bechir sent him to meet a certain Zoya, a Celdorean “locksmith.” Quickly assessing how Zoya was motivated, Raziel recruited her by promising to double the size of her gold earrings.
Meanwhile, Ethlyn decided to hire a navigator familiar with the local terrain. The local caravan master recommended to her one Yaghoub, a caravaneer with a good reputation. Though pricey, Yaghoub was confident that he could help the party avoid becoming lost on their next wilderness trek.
Sharik, who was uninjured, was able to devote the month towards alchemical pursuits, working for the local barber cum sorcerer, astrologer, and storyteller. The barber was a font of rumors and fables. Among his many tall tales, he reported that:
· A sealed tomb complex lay below the town’s Zaharan ruins
· The Zaharan tower on the outskirts of Kirkuk is possessed of strange and powerful magics… It is always warm and stands in defiance of gravity
· The Well of the Prophet in the center of town was a repository for efreeti bottles tossed there by the prophet Al-Sindor (Azendor) himself
· The Well of the Prophet in the center of town was an ancient burial ground of Thrassian kings and priests
· The bones in the burial caves of the Thrassians on the edge of town show signs of fighting…after death
· A giant roc in the hills is the sacred guardian of a powerful artifact known as the Carnelian Idol
· All babies born in the 5th month after the summer solstice always die
The party didn’t know whether these were the ravings of a mad old man, or credible information. Senef called upon the jinn of Kirkuk to give him answers, but what he learned did not bode well. Yes, there was a tomb complex below the town; but it was inhabited by powerful things. Yes, there was an efreeti bottle in the Well of the Prophet; but it, too, had powerful guardians. Yes, the Carnelian Idol was in the nearby mountains, but it was guarded by a roc, which was likely beyond their power to defeat.
On the 22nd of Innelen, the adventurers were finally fit for combat again. They had resolved to start by exploring the alleged tomb complex below Kirkuk, and headed over to the ruined remnants of the Zaharan fortress that ringed the town. There, they found the living quarters of the local beggars, who found the ill-reputed ruins a comfortable haven from the hot sun. Strange, blind Mussa was heard babbling cryptic phrases – “she slumbers in the crystal prism…” Elemental fire…” but the party could make nothing of this madness. Buzurg, a middle-aged beggar with consumption, warned the party away. Strangely, Senef didn’t find any sign of consumption when he tried to treat the beggar, and Mahmud detected palpable evil from Buzurg. Buzurg left hastily before he could be questioned. The party’s friend, Bechir the Leper, led them through the surface ruins to a hieroglyph-carved bronze door within the last standing tower.
Try as they might, the party was unable to budge the door. Zoya the locksmith pronounced it magically sealed, and the dweomer was outside the powers of Sharik to dispel. The party would have to look elsewhere for adventure…
Session Eight
With the tomb complex beneath Kirkuk magically sealed, the adventurers decided to pay a visit to the local sheik, Ramman al-Saddam, to inquire as to how they could assist the village. They were respectfully ushered into Ramman’s court, where he was handling a mercantile case involving a sale of lame horses by Abu the Horse Trader. After dismissing Abu, Ramman entertained the adventurers with coffee and dancing girls, then turned talk to business.
The sheik explained that bandits from the Al-Baki Hills to the south had been striking at caravans entering and leaving Kirkuk. The accuracy of their attacks had led Sheik Ramman to conclude that there must be a spy in the village. He tasked the adventurers with rooting out this spy, and discovering the location of the bandit’s base. “As strangers in our village, you may go places the natives would not, and ask questions we would not.” The party swore they would do this task for the sheik.
The adventurers promptly split up to begin their investigation. Senef used his shamanic powers to speak with the caravan’s horses. The horses spoke in hushed neighs of a terrifying blonde two-legged monster who brought death and despair – Ethlyn. Humorous, but not helpful.
Raziel went to visit his friend Bechir the Lame to see what the head of the village’s beggars knew. Bechir quickly shushed Raziel, saying the bandits were too dangerous, and too generous, to speak ill of. Blind Mussa bleakly warned that “women will give birth to monsters.” This was ominous, but also not helpful.
Mahmud headed to the Traveler’s Inn and conversed with the innkeeper, Tahir al-Farouk. Tahir mentioned his suspicions of Buzurg the Whiner, whom he had often seen loitering near the lizardmen caves near dawn. Tahir also spoke of a missing niece, Dalefa, with “breasts like swinging pendulums,” whom he feared had run off in a shameful illicit marriage. Mahmud pledged to discretely notify Tahir if he caught any news of the missing girl.
The next day, 24th Innelen, Raziel hunted down Buzurg the Whiner near the old Zaharan ruins. He made the wheezing beggar quite nervous by inviting him for coffee after morning prayer and asking him leading questions about the cult of Zargon. Buzurg strangely blabbered about the Carnelian Idol and its former owner Nudurapur the Sorcerer.
While Buzurg was distracted, Senef approached Bechir the Lame with an offer to have his body restored and disease cured, if he would share what he knew about the bandits. Bechir – who had two lame legs, six missing fingers, seven missing toes, one missing ear, six missing teeth, and gruesome scarring, agreed with little hesitation. Dao the Wide was worried he would not be able to restore Bechir, but Fate smiled on the old leper, and he was healed. In light of this miracle, Bechir gladly shared what he knew: Abu the Horse Trader was the brigand’s fence and spy. Buzurg was not the spy, and wasn’t even involved with the bandits, as far as he knew. Bechir did confirm that Buzurg had often visited the lizardman caves, and that he’d seen others – masked men – visiting those caves as well.
At this point, the adventurers had come to a fateful moment. Knowing Abu was the spy, they thought it might be possible to interrogate him to learn the location of the bandit’s base, or perhaps follow him to his next meeting with the bandits. Being men of boldness and action, they resolved against this cautious plan in favor of a more audacious stratagem: They would leak word of their departure to Abu, whilst secretly escorting the next caravan out of town. In this manner, they hoped to be present the next time the raiders struck, so they could deliver a telling blow and cover themselves with glory.
Mahmud and Ethlyn called upon Farouk al-Fareed, a caravaneer due to depart the next morning. Farouk was strongly against their plan. The bandits, he said, had been attacking with close to 100 men. The last time they were sighted, they had held off only because the caravan guards were at double strength. Any caravan with fewer than 80 guards was better off just bribing the bandits, he explained. Mahmud and Ethlyn were not deterred. Mahmud swore by Imran that he would protect the caravan; they had dealt with 70 gnolls – they could deal with 100 thugs! Farouk al-Fareed was swayed by the adventurers’ charisma, and agreed to the plan.
The adventurers planned out a wide circuitous path that would carry them east, then double back to link up with Fareed’s caravan when it departed. Before they left, they visited their friend the Barber, purchasing the alleged map to the Carnelian Idol, and telling him they were off to hunt the cultists of Zargon.
By the 27th of Innelen, the adventurers had re-grouped with Fareed’s caravan and were entering the sandy dunes where the bandits had most often attacked. On schedule, the brigands arrived, only they numbered 140 or more, with several sorcerers. The bandit leader, Yasir al-Achmed, demanding tribute for passing through “his trail”. Flustered at their vast numbers, Fareed begged Mahmud to pay the tribute. “We have only 25 guards and yourself. We cannot fight 140!” But Mahmud was resolute. “Come and fight us, coward!” he shouted.
After these bold words, Mahmud and Raziel drank potions of invisibility and began to prowl forward, intent on slaying the bandit’s leadership. A vast volley of arrows peppered downward behind them, skewering Farouk al-Fareed. Sharik cast a spell that incapacitated a half-dozen bandits; the enemy sorcerer riposted with a fireball that engulfed Sharik, Senef, Ethlyn, Avda, Barnabas, and Sayyid. Avda, Barnabas, and Sayyid died instantly. Sharik dove into cover headfirst, landing on his teeth and knocking six of them loose. Ethlyn turned away in time to avoid death, but had her ear burned off.
Raziel and Mahmud reached the enemy sorcerer, but he leaped away with a magical stride before they could kill him. A few moments later, the party had surrendered. Yasir al-Achmed was not as ruthless as he might have been, for the adventurer’s boldness had impressed him greatly. He spared their lives, taking only their treasure maps, their horses, their carried treasure, and their magical items. After Mahmud showed great spirit, he tossed one magical blade back to the young paladin with a roar of laughter, telling him “come find me when you’re ready to actually use this.”
Relieved to have escaped without further loss of life, it was nevertheless a downtrodden and shamed party that trekked back to Kirkuk on the 28th of Innelen. Their woes were compounded when they were confronted by the Merchant’s Guild, which was unhappy to have lost an entire caravan under their “protection”. Since the entirety of the party’s remaining treasure was kept with the Merchant’s Guild, they had little choice but to reimburse the Guild for its losses, leaving their coffers yet further depleted.
At the Mosque of Abundant Dreams, they were able to restore Lady Avda to life, but she brought back with her some terrible evil jinn. Haunted and disturbed, she retired from adventuring for a life of contemplation and sorrow. Meanwhile, the party’s reception by Sheik Ramman was not nearly as warm as their last visit; their frolicking with the bandits had worsened his situation, not improved it. They re-gained a margin of their pride when they hand-delivered the spy, Abu, to Ramman’s keeping, but only a margin.
Any possibility y’all could move the growing armor discussion to thread for discussing armor? I saw several updates to this thread and got excited 
He bandits didn’t kill them all? AND you let them keep a sword? You’ve gone soft, Macris!
The continuance of this campaign is a cruelty in and of itself. We lost two beloved characters last session (Session 9). Session update soon.
What is this…? Meta suffering?
Sifu! I apologize! I apparently have much to learn.
As a bit of a teaser prior to the next update: after session 6, the assassin (still passing himself off as a fighter) began introducing himself as Raziel “the Lucky”.
Session Nine
After their misadventures dealing with the bandits, the party decided to lay low for several weeks to recover from their wounds. They took a small pleasure in spending some of their hard-earned treasure. Sharik commissioned a set of silver dentures to replace his missing teeth, Senef had a marvelous spear forged, and Mahmud commissioned a silver mask of Imran, similar to those worn by the Cynidiceans, to hide his ghastly pallor.
The Barber paid a visit to the badly wounded Sharik and inquired as to whether he and his friends intended to use the treasure map to go after the Carnelian Idol. “I am an old man…I can no longer adventure. I must live vicariously through you,” he explained. Sharik said they would do so soon, declining to mention that the map had fallen into the hands of the brigands. Mahmud, meanwhile, called on Prayer Leader Khamil Ibn Ravi, to make inquiries about Sheikh Ramman. The Prayer Leader said, “Our sheikh is an ambitious man who deserves better than this desolate town. But he has no connections with our Auran overlords, so this is his fief.” Senef used the intervening weeks to commune with the jinn of Kirkuk. The jinn revealed several secrets to him – first, that the magically-sealed door to the Zaharan tomb complex beneath the old fort was the only such door in the complex, and that it had been sealed to keep interlopers out; second, that the people visiting the lizardmen caves at night were up to nefarious deeds, and that the innkeeper’s niece, Dalefa of the Pendulous Breasts, was “with” them.
It was by now the 15th of Nethelen, and the party felt well enough to tackle another adventure. They decided to keep watch on the Thrassian caves to see if they saw any cultists entering them. It was a full moon that night, and from their secret vantage point the party spied a small group of hooded men enter a particular cave two-thirds up the cliff side around fifteen minutes after midnight. Raziel, the stealthiest of the party, pushed ahead to investigate, but by the time he reached the cave there was no sign of the cultists. All he found was a thick carpet of human and Thrassian bones, and obscure and ominous sigils carved on the cave walls. The rest of the party came forward and they commenced a thorough search of the cave. They soon found that the eastern wall of the cave was partly illusory, and proceeded inside.
Past the illusory wall, the party was immediately set upon by a band of hulking figures, hooded and robed from head to toe. Red glows emanated from the eye holes of their hoods, and their hands were clawed and inhuman. Sharik used his knowledge of the dark arts to take command of these, and they were revealed to be Thrassian skeletons. Sharik noticed that his necromancy seemed stronger, a sign that they had entered a sinkhole of evil.
The cave connected into a limestone tunnel network that seemed to honeycomb the cliffs of Kirkuk. Sharik used his skeletal minions to press ahead for a time, but eventually his power over them began to fade and they had to destroyed. Thereafter, Raziel took the lead. He was on point when the party entered a long, man-carved gallery with steps at the far end. Raziel’s keen ears heard movement and speech down the steps, so he proceeded forward. Alas, Fate had a cruel destiny in store for Raziel the Lucky. Only a few feet into the hall, a trap door sprung open beneath his fate. Raziel’s death was instant, for the pit below led to a burning shrine of elemental fire. As his soul was consumed, his “sacrifice” was accepted, and an efreeti summoned. Sadly, there was no priest on hand to control the efreeti…
Meanwhile, above, the party had no idea what had just ensued, though they were momentarily stunned by Raziel’s disappearance. Then the efreeti burst up through the trap door and attacked. Rakh and Mahmud rushed forward to fight it off. The rest of the party was preparing to assist when Thrassian skeletons and fanatical cultists suddenly appeared on their left flank. (Down the steps, the cultists had been alerted to the party’s intrusion and proceeded to follow a side tunnel around to flank the adventurers.)
The cultists were led by a sinister sorcerer who sent a ball of fire into the party’s midst. The fireball was particularly deadly, for the party was within a region heated by the elemental sphere of fire. Rakh, who had just retreated in search of healing, was caught in its blast and died instantly. A few moments later, he rose as a deathless minion under the command of the cult sorcerer. Sharik used his own necromancy to control UnRakh, but he lost control thereafter, and Mahmud had to cut the lizardman down, wailing at the horror of it all. The sorcerer’s henchman, a cunning crossbowman, exchanged fire with Ethlyn. Each was injured, but the crossbowman’s bolts were poisoned, and burned like fire as they pierced the bard.
The shifting tide of battle had by now carried the efreeti into the cultist’s ranks, where it indiscriminately began to attack. As the sorcerer turned his attention to dispelling the genie, the party took the opportunity to make a fighting withdrawal. Sharik conjured up a slippery lubricant over the stone tunnel, which quickly tumbled the pursuing cultists to the ground. With the cultists momentarily incapacitated, the adventurers sensed a chance to win. Casters on both sides prepared to unleash their most potent spells. Tragically, Fate was against the party. Sharik’s necromancy was resisted by the sorcerer, and Senef’s spells interrupted by the crossbowman. The evil sorcerer’s magic was not interrupted, and he succeeded in summoning up jagged pillars of rock. Audarius, Sharik and Senef were pierced horribly these teeth from the earth. Senef survived, barely, but Sharik was reduced to a red stain. Audarius was slain, only to rise a few moments later as a zombie.
Their defeat catastrophic, the adventurers fled, carrying Sharik and Rakh’s corpses but leaving behind Audarius in his damned state. Horrible laughter followed as they fled to the moonlit surface. At the Mosque of Abundant Dreams, Daood the Wide was again persuaded to use his powerful magic upon the deceased and crippled party members. It took three weeks for the party to recover. Senef seemed shaken by his brush with death, but otherwise intact. The others were less fortunate. Sharik returned with an ethereal glow to spirits and ghosts. Rakh returned but his body seemed to barely heal – he still looked like a zombie, an appearance that did little to further his already-low popularity with normal men and women.
When he recovered, Sharik paid a visit to his friend, the Barber. He had dimly recognized the voice of the sinister sorcerer in the caverns and needed to confirm his suspicions. As the Barber sharpened his razors, he told Sharik a strange tale. “Once, the Well of Kirkuk was a place of healing, with sacred waters that would cure any disease. So long as its sanctity was observed, it stayed pure. Then adventurers delved into the waters, meddling where they ought not, and the waters turned to poison. What does that tell you of the dangers of delving too deep, my friend?” Both the tale, and his aged baritone, seemed to confirm Sharik’s fears. Droning on, the Barber reiterated that Sharik and his friends should seek out the Carnelian Idol. Seeking to learn more about the Barber’s strange obsession, Sharik confessed that he had lost the map. The Barber seemed enraged for a moment, then proceeded to provide a perfect duplicate of the missing map. Sharik left hastily with a pledge to investigate.
Senef again called upon the jinn to gather more information. The spirits confirmed that the Barber was, in fact, the evil sorcerer they had faced in the caves. They also hinted that the great roc which guarded the Carnelian Idol might not be entirely unfriendly to the party, should they travel to it. Desirous of avoiding further confrontations with the cultists, and encouraged by the notion of trafficking with a roc, the party set forth on 9th Nethelen to find its aerie…
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.
Thank you for the zombie pit trap!
Session Eleven
Whilst recuperating in Al-Danya, the adventurers came to meet a venturer named Jamal bin Saladin [a new PC]. Jamal was reputed to “never get lost,” which was a highly attractive skill set to the oft-misdirected adventurers. Jamal, in turn, had heard of the adventurers: “You’re the ones who got an entire caravan killed!” “Fate has not always been kind,” explained Senef. “We’ve made errors,” acknowledged Mahmud.
Jamal was undeterred by the risk of adventuring. “Where others see risks, Jamal sees opportunity! But Jamal has one simple rule. Jamal cannot do business when he is dead.” The party agreed that this was a valuable business lesson. Ethlyn and Zoya then arrived at the meeting, and Jamal turned his charms towards them. “Who are these desert roses?” Ethlyn raised her dagger. “Oh…the rose has thorns!”
A few days more rest served to get Rakh back on his feet, and the party headed towards Alakyrum, arriving there on the 22nd of Vinethelen. Alakyrum was a breathtaking site, a city of 100,000 souls centered in a lush oasis. Salt from the south-east, silk from the west, and gold from the south all trafficked through the Pearl of the Desert. The party paid the exorbitant 20gp toll to do business in the city and entered the great bazaar just past the gates.
They had come to Alakyrum hoping to learn more about the Howling Emptiness and the Well of Shadows, so the party split up to seek out different venues of learning.
· From Imam Mahdi al-Idam, of the Great Mosque of the Way of Eternal Truth, the party learned of the ruined remains of a pyramid rising from the Howling Emptiness. It must have been built by giants, for no surely men could have moved the titanic blocks of basalt it was made with.
· From Damanos, an antiquities dealer, the party learned that the Well of Shadows is a gateway to another dimension. He also warned that a great centipede, with the power to mesmerize those who gaze at it, haunts the Howling Emptiness. And he spoke of a great statue brooding in the Howling Emptiness, beneath which bubbles a magical pool; the pool can salve the soul, but is guarded by a skeleton legion.
· From Urabi al-Chukri, great alchemist of Alakyrum, the party was able to purchase an enchanted bottle, magically sealed, that could stopper up the shadow-stuff of the Well of Shadows. But Urabi warned them not to go after the Carnelian Idol. It was created by the Zaharan sorcerer-priestess Navana at the height of the Zaharan Empire, and the Zaharans, he explained, had powers undreamt of in this sad days. Worse, Navana was merely vanished, not dead and Urabi warned she would one day return for her Idol, and that he would never lay hands on it for that reason.
While the rest of the party was gathering this information, Ethlyn fell into the company of a gladiatorial promoter named Ommador. Ommador had seen Ethlyn in the company of masked Mahmud and mighty Rakh, and surmised that these were her slave-soldiers. He offered valuable prizes should she be willing to have her warriors fight in the arena, which had “unfortunate scheduling gaps”. Ethlyn quickly agreed to have “her slaves” fight. Mahmud was set to battle Orestes the Swordmaster, while Rakh was to battle a black panther from the jungles of the Ivory Kingdoms.
After some additional commerce by Jamal bin Saladin – including selling many treasures to Lazar the jeweler, and purchasing extravagant clothing from Bassida the mercer – the party traveled to the Arena, which was a sunken amphitheatre constructed outside of the city’s walls. Its red sands were stained crimson, and the warriors fought under the baking sun. Of course the Exarch, Caiaphas ibn Süroman, the Butcher of Ber-Gathy, enjoyed a shaded pavilion, as did the high ranking sheiks and patricians of the city. All of the party laid large wagers on Mahmud and Rakh as the fighting began.
“The masked Mahmud, servant of Imran, faces Orestes the Swordmaster, the Krysean conqueror…” The gates clanged open and the fight began. Mahmud fared poorly: Imran turned his eye away from his paladin, and Mahmud was cut down with a bloody wound to his eye. He had fought valiantly enough that the Exarch gave him a thumbs up to live, at least.
Rakh found himself cast as a villain. “A Thrassian monster, from the dark days of man, captured! A savage beast, fit only to be slain by another savage beast!” It was unlikely Rakh would have received mercy from the Exarch had he lost, but he tore the black panther apart in seconds. As gold coin in the thousands changed hands, the dark grip of greed seized the adventurers. It was clear that there was money to be made in the arena, and glory to be earned…
Mahmud needed a week to recover, and the party spent the time carousing in the Patrician’s Rest, an upscale tavern catering to arena patrons. The party gathered several more rumors:
· In the western foothills of the Al-Baki, between Ber-Gathy and Khaibar, stands the wreckage of Krak al-Shidda, a remainder of the bygone wars between Kemesh and Opelenea. Adventurers who have visited the ruins claim that the castle’s dungeons glitter with gold, but none have lived to claim it.
· Some of the most fabulous treasures lost in the fall of Zahar were the three Star Gems. With them, the Zaharans ruled Opelenea, but all have been lost in the sands of time.
· Al-Sindor knew that a time would come when the ancient evils he had defeated would rise again. He entrusted to the sheiks of a sacred oasis the means by which the powers of Law could be summoned when the time came
Soon a week had flown by, and Mahmud and Rakh were ready to test their blades again in the arena. Mahmud fought first. “Mahmud, the masked man, who fears no death because he is already dead, faces Malyn the Merciless, fresh from the wars...” Mahmud and Malyn’s bout last for minutes as they sweated and bled on the sands. Both warriors were near exhaustion when Mahmud saw an opening and cut open Malyn’s belly. As the warrior fell, the Exarch rose and presented a thumb’s up: A good fight. Chirugeons rushed to the sands and saved Malyn, and Mahmud strode off to the acclaim of the crowd.
Then it was Rakh’s turn. “The vicious beast, Rakh, having escaped death, returns to the arena to face the undefeated Orestes the Swordmaster, the Krysean killer…” The crowd roared Orestes’ name. Trumpets blew when Orestes entered the field. Rakh cut him down like wheat before the scythe. Stunned silence fell on the arena. In disgust, the Exarch held his thumb down, and Rakh finished off Orestes with his own blade.
The adventurers had placed large bets and won almost 4,500gp in the games. They suspected the odds would be less favorable going forward, so it seemed a timely moment to leave Alakyrum. Jamal loaded up their camels with crates of porcelain purchased in the bazaar, which he hoped to sell during their adventures, and they departed.
They reached Kirkuk on the 3rd Genethelen. Here they were momentarily paralyzed with indecision. Investigate the Watchtower? Go to the Howling Emptiness? Descend into the tombs below the city? Explore the Desert of Desolation to the south? Finally they decided to trek towards Cynidicea.
On the 8th of Genethelen they encountered a tribe of camel-centaurs in the desert. The desert dwellers attacked, shouting “Death to the Zargonites!” Eventually the party realized that Mahmud’s mask and pale complexion had misled the centaurs as to their nature, and they were able to stop the fighting. Abaddon, the centaur chieftain, confirmed the party’s fears that the Zargonites had continued their raiding of the surface world.
The lost city was almost in sight when Fate turned her evil eye on the party. A wyvern - the very same wyvern they had seen in the skies above weeks ago – swooped upon the band. Rakh leaped at it as it swept down, and its mighty talons tore into him, and bore him aloft. A moment later, the wyvern spun out of control as Sharik choked it to death with his dark magic. The impact of the crash sent Rakh tumbling onto the sands. Miraculously the lizardman was alive, but his right hand was a gory ruin.
With their ablest fighter so injured, the party had no choice but to return to Kirkuk. There they called on the services of Daood the Wide to restore Rakh. Daood cautioned them that between Rakh’s injuries and his many ill effects from past efforts, there was great risk, but Rakh was not willing to adventure one-handed.
Daood’s cautions proved well-merited: Rakh’s restoration was an awful affair. The Thrassian was made whole, but he complained of terrible headaches from bright sounds and loud noises – the cry of a camel disturbed him, the brightness of a spell blinded him. In the darkness of dungeons he could still fight, but it was clear his days of battle before the cheering crowds in the suns of the Arena were over.
Rakh wept.