Into the Stanor Ulcer

Airday the 24th of Polvius, 2044

Black, viscous cambion blood soaks into the corrupted earth. Scores of hobgoblin dead litter the orchard, still wearing the now torn and bloodied garbs of the monks of Sepinus they sought to emulate. The reek of death hangs heavy in the air, rising like steam in the midday sun. The heroes wander among the fallen, methodically dispatching the last of the unconscious hobgoblins. They wipe blood and sweat from their blades, armour and brows. An almost palpable evil hangs over the Stantor Monastery grounds, weighing down upon their hearts. Weracy was spotted entering what appears to be the lesser hall, and Karry will hopefully be around here somewhere too. Thorhall moves off to scout the surroundings for Karry while Tungdil, Uther, Milo and Wanda search the buildings for Weracy’s whereabouts. Milo leads, moving slowly and carefully, checking for hidden traps, secret portals, and of course misplaced wealth. They find the pantry infested with maggots. They find all the drinks sour and undrinkable. They take note of the divine inscriptions in the grand hall and chapel which read “The Truth is Always Hidden”, and “Seek the Hidden Meaning in All Things”. And then, Milo finds a trapdoor.

The trapdoor is poorly concealed in a corner of the chapel. They gather around and prepare to enter, drawing weapons, readying armour and spell components alike. Blades are jammed under the two heavy oak doors to wedge them shut and prevent anyone from following. Carefully they lift the wooden trapdoor and peer into the darkness below.

Tungdil’s darkvision reveals that the room below is empty. The party light candles acquired from the great hall and climb carefully down the ladder into the darkness. The room below is square and has a dirt floor and passageways leading in every direction. Obviously this was a burial chamber, but the crypts which line the walls now stand open and empty. The distant clicking sound of metal on stone seems to echo from all directions. Tungdil tightens his grip on his dwarven waraxe and cautiously moves into the southern passageway and into the room beyond.

This room is similar to the first, except it is a dead end. Crypts line three complete walls, and as the party’s candlelight brightens the room a faint moaning and scraping noise can be heard from within. Tattered sleeves and decomposed hands protrude from the crypts and writhe, grasping towards the candlelight. Flaps of rotten skin hang from long decomposed arms and droplets of foul dark fluids drip from torn fingertips. Disgusted but unafraid, the party resolve to put these dead to rest. Tungdil hacks away at flailing limbs and Uther stoves in skulls until the corpses fall silent and lie still, able once more to rest in peace.

Returning to the first room again they move west. It is identical to the south room except all three walls of crypts are empty. Evidently the dead have been removed for some sinister purpose, the worst of which being reanimation. Judging from the number of empty crypts, the party could be facing a veritable army of undead.

Worst fears are confirmed in the east room. Tungdil creeps forward into the darkness and something moves just at the edge of his vision. Suddenly a group of skeletons charge from the darkness, still wearing in the robes they were buried in, and Tungdil has barely enough time to raise his shield before sharp skeleton claws are whisking past his ears and catching his thick beard. Uther steps forwards and swings towards a skeleton which nimbly dodges the ball of his morning star. Milo fires his crossbow which impacts solidly against a ribcage but bounces away without causing more than a scratch. Tungdil drives the blade of his war axe into the side of an unfortunate skull, cracking the jawbone and scattering teeth across the dirt floor. Skeletal claws lash across Tungdil’s face and as he reels to regain his stance more slashes follow through cutting into his leg and a stabbing pain erupts in his armpit as three bony fingers plunge through a gap in his armour and shatter the ribs beneath. Tungdil lets forth a howl but stands his ground, spinning with the blow and freeing himself from the skeleton’s grasp. Hurt and gasping for breath Tungdil raises his shield and drives himself against the grinning skeleton before him.

The monastery grounds are deserted and there is no sign of Karry. Thorhall returns to the orchard to rejoin the group and enters the lesser hall to find them. He passes the great hall and reads the inscription along the ceiling. The large oak door to the chapel is closed, and Thorhall is surprised to find that it refuses to open. Inspecting the door he notices that blade tips have been jammed under the door from the inside. Now that’s odd. Thorhall goes outside and tries the external entrance. It’s also jammed shut. They couldn’t be that stupid, could they? Thorhall sighs, places his shoulder against the door and heaves against it with his might. The blades scrape along the floor and the big oak door inches open enough for Thorhall to squeeze through. ‘Why did I get stuck with these guys, oh Agenus?’ he asks the holy symbol above the altar. As if in answer, the sound of battle wafts up from the open trapdoor, and a dwarven roar of pain echoes from below. ‘Please don’t let them be dead yet’ he mutters as he rushes towards the trapdoor.

Thorhall drops through the trapdoor, grasps the outsides of the ladder with hands and feet, and slides down. The fighting is coming from the east. Drawing his longsword Thorhall sprints forwards. He can make out shadow in the candlelight and the dwarf is staggering drunkenly. Uther draws forth his holy symbol and holds it aloft. ‘By the light of God and all that is holy… UNDEAD BEGONE!!!’ The holy symbol seems to gather energy and glows faintly in the dim light. As Uther shouts his final command the symbol releases a pulse of positive energy, and everyone feels the slight sensation of a shockwave hitting them in the chest. The skeletons shudder for the briefest moment as the positive energy hits them. They stagger backwards and try to flee. Uther’s holy symbol visibly glows, and the energy builds around the skeletons and crescendos. The skeletons vaporise into clouds of bone dust, their robes falling heavily to the ground.

At this precise moment Thorhall charges into the room, shield raised and weapon aloft. A cloud of fine white dust swirls and slowly settles, but no enemies are present. Uther slowly turns to face him, his entire front covered in white bone dust, still holding his holy symbol aloft. ‘I did it. I killed them all. I’m so awesome.’ Thorhall stares at him blankly. Tungdil looks up at the cleric, blood running from his face and side. ‘Um… do you think that maybe… *cough* …that maybe you could have done that before they ripped my precious lungs out?’

Uther heals the dwarf and the party continue, now towards the northern corridor. The metal on stone clicking noise seems to be louder now, and Tungdil goes forwards alone to see what it is. As the far end of the room comes into range of his darkvision Tungdil can see six hobgoblins with picks who seem to be enlarging an entrance on the far wall. Tungdil does his best to remain silent and presses up against the passage wall, however his armour bangs against a protruding rock in the wall and two hobgoblins look up. They see him in the darkness, draw swords and run at him. Again Tungdil is caught off guard, and before he can react he is surrounded by all six hobgoblins. Blades attack him from all sides, several striking true in his back and side. He bellows and swings his waraxe in a vicious arc, killing one hobgoblin and injuring another with the same stroke. Thorhall leaps forwards and drives his blade through the neck of one hobgoblin which slumps to the floor, gargling. Wanda moves to the fore and casts her trusty colour spray spell. Two foes go cross-eyed and drop unconscious to the floor. The remaining two enemies attack Wanda, slashing at her un-armoured body with their swords. Wanda is severely wounded but remains on her feet. She drops back behind Thorhall who kills another hobgoblin. The last hobgoblin stands before Thorhall, caught in a split second of indecision. To fight would mean death, but if he can just kill that nasty little dwarf… he sidesteps and lunges, piercing his sword between gaps in Tungdil’s scale mail. The dwarf drops to the floor, and the hobgoblin has enough time to grin gleefully before his life is suddenly and violently ended.

Tungdil is revived and the party decide it best to return topside to rest, regain spells and heal. Their hopes of finding Weracy and Karry alive begin to dwindle as time passes. Milo performs a thorough search of the rooms of the second building and recovers a stash of coins, a ring, and some soiled pages from the teachings of Sepinus. They drag the heavy altar on top of the wooden trapdoor, leave the monastery grounds, and camp for the night close by.

Lightday the 25th of Polvius, 2044

The party rise with the sun and return to the monastery grounds to venture once more down the trap door, and into the warren of evil. Nothing has changed since they left it, and the hobgoblins still lie where they fell. Gathering their courage the five adventures move down the snaking, unnatural hallway beyond the hobgoblins.

They emerge into a large room with a huge pit taking up most of the centre. At the far end of the pit stands a tall, armoured figure. He turns, faces the party and smiles. ‘I’ve been expecting you.’ The trademark abrasions on his face betray him to be a wind wraith. A sudden gust of wind extinguishes Thorhall’s light source. Tungdil snatches up his war axe and runs forward into the darkness. The wind wraith conjures forth a cloud of nauseous vapours, and Thorhall drops to one knee and vomits his breakfast through the grill in his helmet. Everybody gets clear of the gas cloud, and nobody else is affected by it. Tungdil closes on the wind wrath and swings his waraxe mightily, chopping into its shin like a woodcutter would cut into a tree. The wind wraith howls and hops on one foot, then points at him and glares. As if by magic, Tungdil becomes afraid and runs away as fast as he can. Milo sneaks around to sneak attack the monster. Milo finds that sneak attacks don’t work. He also finds the creature can move very fast, and finds himself looking up into the malicious glare of the wind wrath. Uther holds forth his holy symbol and channels positive energy, but the creature resists and attacks him with its longsword, chuckling. Uther tries again, closing his eyes to concentrate and muttering a prayer under his breath. ‘Foul undead creature, I command you in the name of God to FLEE!!!’. The holy symbol glows and the wind wraith staggers back, afraid of the light. It turns and runs for the opposite wall, and when it can’t run any further it cowers. The party assail it with weapons. Tungdil recovers from his fear and joins in. Urther moves closer and the wind wraith makes a break for the exit. It moves like the wind, but runs past the ladder and into the most southern room. The party chase after it, corner it, and eventually slay it.

Standing over the undead corpse of the wind wraith they ponder what to do with its gear. ‘Did you prepare read magic today?’ asks Thorhall.
‘Nope’
‘Hmm… I don’t want to wear any of that stuff. It’s been worn by an undead creature’ muses Thorhall.‘We could just leave the body here and pick it up later.’
‘It’ll be even more putrid and stinky if we just leave the body here. Let’s strip its gear and leave it in the chapel’
‘Ok’
And so, the party strip the armour, the shield, the sword, and the boots of the wind wraith, and deposit them in the chapel to be picked up on their way out of the ulcer.

Our valiant heroes return to the pit and carefully climb down the rope that hangs into it, descending onto a platform below, and into hell itself.

GM's Notes

• Obstacles overcome:
  6 Warrior Skeletons (CR1/3 = 600XP) + 6 Hobgoblins (CR1/2 = 900XP) + Wind Wraith (CR5 = 1800XP) = 3300XP/5 = 660XP each
  
  Milo, Uther and Wanda: 3667XP + 660XP = 4327XP (44% to level 4)
  Tungdill: 3717XP + 660XP + 50XP = 4427XP (48% to level 4)
  Thorhal: 2730XP + 660XP = 3390XP (level up!, 13% to level 4)
  
  
• The last two session summaries have been factually accurate but lacking the creative flare (let's call it effort) that I started this journal with. Fortunately two of my planers are non-native English speakers, and they don't recognise badly written English when they see it. Anyways I was asked to spend a little more time on this report, so I've given it a shot. I hope you find it tasteful, but won't be offended in the least if you don't. :)