February 16th, 2013
Having taken a rest from their battle with the strange slime creatures lurking around the alchemy lab, the party traveled onward – without their companion Fubar. Attending to another problem deep within the tunnels, Fubar was unable to accompany his friends deeper into the Ossuary.
Instead, the trio trekked onward – and found themselves in an old guard room. A few mite corpses decorated the floor, with deep gashes cut into their chests. The men searched the room, curious of what this ancient guardsroom might hold. The answer was a particularly angry gargoyle who had been guarding the chamber for centuries. Wresting himself from his pedestal, he attacked with fervor. Despite being made of stone, the party relentlessly beat at it until its structure began to fail. In time, and with several of their own injuries to match, the creature was defeated.
They pressed onward into the guardsman’s chambers, only to discover that its resident’s spirit had lingered on. Dhegin, ghostly guard, immediately demanded to know what purpose their intrusion held. Uninterested in stories of glory or wealth, it was Obama who finally managed to befriend the spirit into telling his tale. Forsaken by his master, Xanderghul, the guardsman was accused of being a traitor and treated as such – his body mangled and thrown in with the other refuse. Infuriated by the injustice, his spirit could not pass on – unless his body could be given a proper ceremony.
Unsure of how to really help the man, the party pressed on, exploring the other sections of the archives. A pair of mites guarded a barred doorway, and while the two guards were easily dispatched, the door was not so easy to move. Further down the hall was a set of strange cages filled with odd bones – and a massive nest of angry beetles. Roa’Kkad showed off his new talents by unleashing an alchemical firestorm on the nest, crisping many of the bugs into ashes. The door nearby hid a damp and musty room, full of fungus growing on every wall. A pair of giant ticks had made their home here, but Throsh was ready for them with a gout of flame. Consumed by the fires, the ticks shriveled into mere husks.
Pushing onward once again, the trio came to a strange circular room – which appeared to be in the center of a forest. The smell of fresh sap and an otherworldly howling wind assaulted the sense as Roa’Kkad approached the strange font of liquid in the center of the forest’s clearing. Quenching himself with the liquid, an awful cold seeped into his body – just as a wraith-like creature emerged from the forest and attacked. Passing through the bulking mass of Roa’Kkad, the barbarian had little course but to flee from the strange room.
The party then entered into another crypt – this one full of skeletal figures arranged in positions of pure agony. The was little to be found in this room but dust and cobwebs… with the exception of a single magical ring, a Ring of Forcefangs. Beaten from the journey so far, they sealed the door of the crypt and laid on the relatively safe (if kind of creepy) crypt floor, preparing for the next day’s journeys.