Shadowmaze

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Bancroft stepped forward with his sling and delivered a rock into a vulnerable point in the scorpion’s chitin, which oozed greyish ichor. Furious at losing its meal and the injury, the scorpion advanced back into the barrow. Bruzra claimed the sling and bag of stones from Bancroft to use in ranged attacks while he prepared to defend with sword and shield.

Bancroft followed his friends to the swamp barrow. They were fed up with rats, and with four fresh volunteers joining the group, searching the large flooded space seemed more feasible.

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Wyz studied his spells while his friends caroused. Then, he studied his spells while they slept it off, pausing occasionally to try to kick them awake. Finally, they woke up, complaining of hangovers, and the group blearily set off for the barrowmaze.

Before even reaching the barrows, four giant frogs hopped to the attack from ambush. The rest of the group were surprised, but Wyz had his goblin wariness to protect him, and reacted quickly. Two of the four frogs fell into enchanted slumber, but four of his party did too.

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This time the plan came from Druidly: lure rats to the entrance one by one, put them to sleep with a spell, then finish them. The idea worked for precisely one rat; the rest fled deeper into the barrow.

A few steps farther in they found more rats. Druidly’s attempts at communication were wasted — the party suspected the rats did not understand Common. He cast a magical missile to strike a sleeping rat he found, killing it. Two rats down and so far no party wounds.

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The squad of risen skeletons advanced upon Bancroft. Two bore sword and shield, closing to melee, while the rest took up positions with bows. Bancroft once again called upon the power of nature to turn them back. One of the sword-wielders fled, but the others remained intent, and their arrows struck from the darkness. Bancroft staggered back up the stairs; their aim would suffer in the light of day.

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Wyz stabbed the skeleton next to him in the back and fled out the entrance of the barrow. Wizards have no business on the front lines of a fight and he was too smart to die. Let his minions face the skeletons.

El Vis stepped up promptly, matching action to thought. His great sword struck the skeleton that Wyz had already stabbed and shattered it into bone fragments.

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One day of carousing quickly turned into two. Bancroft woke the next morning with his head lying on the dirt, a tuft of grass for a pillow. Despite the alcohol he felt surprisingly refreshed; a deeper sense of connection to the earth filled him. A night spent outside of town had done him good.

The fog of alcohol blurred his memories of the prior night, but he had been separated from his companions earlier in the evening. It did not take long to find them: they were occupying the stocks in the center of town next to Druidly, who had attempted to burn down the wizard Mazzah’s tower the night before. Apparently further adventure would have to wait.

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Somehow Druidly dodged the bandit’s blows long enough to put half a dozen of them into a magical sleep. Those left promptly returned the favor and he fell unconscious. While the bandit leader shouted, rats crept up from behind. He screamed as they swarmed him but lived long enough to flee toward the stairs, ordering his followers to keep Druidly inside the barrow.

Gravelgnasher saw an opportunity and killed one bandit with an arrow to the forehead. Trying to keep the peace, Bancroft stepped into the barrow and healed Druidly, promising to keep him from casting again. The situation was tense as Druidly and Bancroft tried to leave while the rats pursued and the bandits frantically roused one another. In a surprising display of mercy, Druidly rescued one fallen bandit and closed the door behind the last of them, locking the rats inside. The bandits punished Gravelgnasher by stoning him into unconsciousness but let Bancroft and Druidly go with a fine of 10 gp.

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From the top of one barrow, a small green figure cursed and wrung his hands as he watched distant figures crawled around the entrance to another. “My book, my book. My book. Those bastards are going to steal my book!” Hanging from his belt were the implements of a wizard. Especially a new looking scroll case, ink jar, quill pen, rare items worth gold in a town the size of Helix. The adventurers at the distant borough had been their first that day, and laid their claim. The small goblin knew that discretion was the better part of valor. They would have no better chance than he To make use of the book. Indeed, they were likely to disappear themselves trying to take it. For now, there was nothing to do but wait and investigate the next barrow. Wiz fingered the small bone hilted dagger he had claimed as part of his treasure hoard, at least until it could be identified properly.

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Bancroft held the door closed until the sounds of fighting died down. It didn’t take long, just enough time for a quick prayer to Sylvanus to heal Gravelgnasher and relight some torches. The fighting had ended, but there were still rats outside from the sounds, just not trying to open the secret door. In the relative quiet, Bancroft heard a metallic clanking and scraping coming from further into the room, below the floor. Suspecting a pit trap, he poked and prodded at the floor nearby, finding a section in the center of the room that pivoted. There was something moving in the pit.

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Bancroft and his friends returned to the barrowmaze and inspected two barrows to the far north. Each burial mound had a pair of bronze doors. One set was ornate, bearing symbols of Nergal that matched those on a freestanding pillar to the south; those doors resisted their attempts to open them. Careful inspection revealed a pentagram that could be shifted to reveal a keyhole, but they had no key and any attempts to force the doors resulted in magical repair.