January 6th, 2013
Four individuals, with no prior connection to one another, answered the summons of Valanthe Nerissa, a Pharasmin Cleric of the Godsmouth Cathedral. The ragged Shoanti warrior, Roa’Kkad, the blessed Nord, Fubar, the Forlorn Elf, Throsh, and the mysterious Airwalker Elf, Obama met for the first time at their midnight encounter with Valanthe. The rightful owners of Kaer Maga’s most prestigious tomb, the Godsmouth Ossuary, the Pharasmins had encountered a serious problem – bodies in the crypts had been missing. With a tiny list of possible culprits, the only logical conclusion was that something from below – the lost, sealed layers of the Ossuary – had managed to find its way to the crypts. After the midnight meeting, the PCs agreed to venture into the depths – for gold and glory, of course.
Provided with a few supplies for survival, the adventure began before the group even left the cramped confines of the staircase. Attacked by a single darkmantle, Roa’Kkad dispatched the foe without breaking a sweat. The chambers below were equally dark, and no less perilous.
Their next encounter was with a pair of Tengu – who attacked the PCs in a blind panic. Izzik was slain before he could properly plead for his life. His companion, Skezza, however, managed to convince the PCs to spare his life. He led them to a room containing a fiend that had attacked him and his companions – leaving one of them behind as the others fled for their lives.
The creature inside was a Lustspawn, a horrible beast composed of a beautiful, voluptuous female torso adorned with abyssal taint and features, desiring only to sate its primal urges – hunger and lust. The beast was slain before it could pose a threat, but Skezza sneaked away mid-battle.
The exploration continued, each room containing ancient treasures and horrors. The group finally made its way to a glorious underground cathedral – with ceilings arching over sixty feet high, with no visible supports to keep it from collapse. Eight statues were aligned in the room, seven of which were dedicated to the Runelords of ancient Thassilon. The eighth was a three faced woman, but no one was exactly sure who it was dedicated to.
Pushing aside the trapped statues, the PCs delved into the hidden crypts behind. While the tomb of Lust was filled with beautiful, if kinky, depictions of its namesake sin, the crypt of Wrath held an ancient warrior seeking battle. Charging forward with his ranseur, he skewered Obama before he could even react. His companions rushed to his aid, and managed to prevail despite the zeal of the undead warrior.
Limping their way to safety, the group sets down to rest for a while, licking at their wounds…