Finjaq's Beastie-ary, Part 2

It's time fer another round o' scallywags an' ne'er-do-wells, straight from me own life experiences...

Hobgoblin – I never been much for the military (too regimented fer this rascal’s taste) but I give ‘em a healthy respect. An' every time I see Hobgoblins in action I remember why. They fight like soldiers, they do. Got better armor than plain ol’ Goblins, fight in formation with shields locked, an’ they don’t get fazed in all that battlefield chaos. They’re big, too, big as a tavern lout. For that alone you’d never mistake ‘em fer Goblins, but they also got skin colored like dried blood. Truth is, they’re like a whole race a’ soldiers - small wonder they’re the boss ‘round their Goblin an’ Bugbear cousins. Best yeh can do against ‘em is break their coordination an’ try ta split ‘em up. One-on-one (or three on one – that’s Finjaq-style!) ya got a chance. Oh, an’ hey, keep a special eye out fer their shamans. “Warcasters” they call ‘em an’ they’ll be the ones in robes. Got several tricks up their sleeves, an’ the worst by far’s a blast wave that hammers an area big as a house. Knocks every man jack on his ass an’ feels like the worst hangover ever.

Ghoul – Vile. Nasty. Rancid. I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me table manners, friend, I’m talkin’ ‘bout them nasty cousins ta zombies: Ghouls. They got the same stomach-turnin’ desire fer flesh, but no zombie ever moved so lightnin’-fast as a ghoul. What they look like’s a bone-thin man with rottin’ flesh an’ teeth filed ta cut an’ tear. They’re cunning as the taxman, an’ just a touch more like ta outright kill ya. They’ll come at ya quiet-like from the shadows, cut on ya with claws that’ll make yer legs sieze up, and then comes the bite. They’ll near unhinge their damnable jaw for that big chomp, an’ if it hits…if it hits yeh better pray yer friends are nearby ‘cause then yer whole body’s gonna stiffen. I can’t imagine no worse way ta go. Frozen stiff, but still alive when it gets ta chewin’ on yer insides. I figure you wanna let the archers chew ‘em up a’fore ye even think of gettin’ in close, and if yeh got a holy man who lives ta smite undead bastards back ta their graves, for Pelor’s sake let ‘im!

Homunculus – Alright, here’s the thing – little impish flyin’ beasties, look like they’re made’a clay, right? Kind of bad-things-come-in-small-packages critter only some damn fool wizard would cook up, but far from the worst thing lurkin’ in most underground lairs? An’ yet…an’ yet…they got some tricks up their sleeve that’ll make ya want ta pitch the next wizard ya see into a lake. I suggest yeh do it, I really do. Their first line o’ defense is them bitey teeth – a few good chomps an’ yer walkin’ ‘bout as fast as a cripple. Plus they got some magic lets ‘em get in yer head and rattle ya good so’s ya can’t hit ‘em. They’ll even have ya swingin’ at yer own mates instead! Poor ol’ Finjaq near met his end that way, one dark day. See, this half-elven lass he used to trust near turned him into a pin cushion tryin’ ta put an arrow through one’a them little sodders. To this day I’m workin’ through me trauma.

Recap: "Be at peace, Robot Boar, Be at peace"

Heading further in to the old minotaur temple that we would later learn was called the Well of Demons, we quickly found some of the gnolls we were looking for, along with their nasty hyena pets. Those things smelled like ass and apparently ate their own shit, but weren't much of a challenge, so after a short battle we moved on, stumbling into a large room that held Longtusk, the dire boar we were semi-looking for. He was in a pen and staked down, being harassed by more shithound hyenas.

Brynn quickly found that there were also four gnoll archers hidden behind a barricade of haybales when they filled her full of holes, so a new plan was needed. Quij filled their end of the room with poison gas and Brynn lit the hay on fire, forcing them out of their defensive redoubt. For the rest of the fight Quij kept the poison gas on as many as he could, damaging them (and occasionally Alaric, who ignored it). Finjaq moved in to take on the hyenas, supported by Bakun and later Alaric, and Brynn moved on to calming Longtusk, which worked until she used the boar for cover and it took an arrow in the ass. Amazingly, it stopped paying much attention to her then. After the enemies were all dead, though, she and Baku were able to calm and heal Longtusk and she rode him around while joyfully exclaiming "PONY!"

After a long rest to recover our strength, we moved on again, looking for the missing slaves, but finding instead a pair of Tieflings. A short parlay later, when they asked us why we were in the temple, Bakun answered "Charge!", so it was on like Donkey Kong. The Tieflings were caught in a corner, so they somehow vanished and teleported away, but we heard them enter a room at the end of the hall. Quij quickly filled the area outside that room with poison gas, and Alaric and Bakun moved to block of the hallway. Some crazy gnoll priestess bitch burst from the door and into the poison, charging at Bakun, and the Tieflings followed, and it continued to be on.

Attempts to keep the enemies in the poison gas failed, and Finjaq went down momentarily, poisoned, but Alaric got him back on his feet and got rid of the poison before it could hurt him. Meanwhile, Donkey Kong himself burst out of a side door and attacked (or maybe it was a Bar-Lgura demon), causing even more chaos. Despite having enemies among us, we quickly pulled our shit together and ruled the day. As we searched the area, a quasit servant of Demogorgon appeared and offered information for money or bits of soul. Alaric wanted nothing to do with this and left the room, but the rest of the group was cool with dealing with a demon and Finjaq paid it for some info in coin.

MVPC: Quij, for his poison cloud, especially when it accidentally killed the Tiefling who was trying to escape during the big battle.
Note: Max's father-in-law had herpes, so Ben played Bakun this session.

Finjaq Asks (1/21/09)

Okay, here's the first outing of Finjaq Asks for the Circle of Love D&D crew, with new questions to follow maybe every few weeks or so. The idea is to flesh out our characters a bit between sessions, have some roleplay fun, maybe earn some bonus points from our kindly DM ;)

Just answer in the comments section. You can be brief or be a blabbermouth, but if at all possible, I highly recommending answering in-character. Finjaq's first question is...

"Tell me 'bout yer weapons..."

Epic Realms Recap: 1/16

Having found and surpassed the "false tomb," our intrepid heroes descended into the Tomb of Akonhorus I proper, in search of whatever power had set a trap for Silas and Rusk back at the Golden Fleece in Skuld. After descending long, dark ramps of stone deep beneath the surface, they emerged into a huge hall, lined on each side with the mummified remains of the Pharoah's slaves. Detecting no magical auras, the party proceeded into the chamber.

From out of the darkness in front of them came a shambling sound, footsteps mixed with scraping and wet thuds. Twin emerald eyes speared our heroes, but apart from a slight feeling of stiffness in their joints, there was no effect. Shuffling forward into view appeared two horrible mockeries of the once-noble basilisk: reeking of decay and darkness, these bloated, Hell-touched undead creatures attacked the party.

As if that weren't enough, a huge undead humanoid in full armor and with empty black eyesockets (a Deathbringer) charged into battle, commanding the mummies interred on either side of the chamber to surround and destroy the intruders. The Deathbringer captain did his best to bolster his allies with waves of negative energy, but in the end he and his minions were defeated... though not before giving Rusk a few new scars to remember him by.

At the end of the 200-foot long chamber, the party discovered two side chambers, which held goods and treasure for use by the Pharoah and his servants in the afterlife, and looted them.

Passing through the portcullis at the far end of the chamber, the party next came upon a smaller room, in which stood four huge golem-like creatures. Aeric was intrigued by their age and craftsmanship; each of the blank-faced ebon giants bore an air of ancient magic, and he'd not seen their like before. His reverie was cut short, however, when the Tomb Tappers spoke directly into his mind, booming: "Get out, and bother not the King of Kings!" (At least, that's what they would have said if I'd thought about it a little more at the time.) Swinging 100-pound mauls of pure adamantine and gnashing their bizarre belly jaws at our heroes, the Tomb Tappers waded into battle.

Kwalu decided this would be an appropriate moment to call upon his greatest power, and summoned an Earth Monolith to aid him. This legendary manifestation, far larger than mere Elder Earth Elementals, quickly laid waste to the ancient automatons. Between the Monolith and the rest of the heroes, including a temporarily-empowered Bosco in the form of a Warforged Titan, the Tomb Tappers were quickly demolished; and with that, the final door to the God-King's resting place lay revealed.

Inside, the party found a large sarcophagus on a boat made of petrified wood, shielded by magical traps and wards. In the ship's hold, Silas discovered another treasure horde... and it was likewise looted.

But there's still a problem; no culprit has yet been found. There's a clue, however; the sarcophagus itself appears to be magically trapped, and the 20-foot-wide pedestal on which it sits seems almost to be hinged...

Session ends, 12:30 AM

Finjaq's Beastie-ary, Part 1

Many a monster's had a cool makeover as of the new edition, and what began as me just keeping a list of everything we'd fought is emerging as Finjaq's Beastie-ary. Simple idea: scurvy but loveable rogue, Finjaq, offers up his own bestiary based on personal experience. For me it's a way to make the monsters more "real," less a collection of stats and numbers. Plus I'm working in any notable info we've acquired on bringing these guys down, so there's some practical stuff, too. (SPOILERS for the alt. D&D group, incidentally)

Here's round one, and I'll add a few more each week. If you can imagine it in Finjaq's vaguely piratical growl it'll probably work best...

Bugbear – Goblins are wee little nasties, so when they want somethin’ flattened, they call in their big cousins – Bugbears. They’re about thick as a tree trunk an’a a full head taller than most (‘less yer a big northman like meself). What they mainly seem ta be into is knockin’ in heads with big ol’ morningstars. Worst part is, they’re not quite so dumb as they look – they’ll come at ya from the side, all sly-like, an’ they actually work with their littler cousins in a scrap. That cunning's how ye’ll know they ain’t just small ogres, that an’ their ratty brown fur. I don’t know no special weakness on ‘em, but if yeh stab ‘em again and again and again they do eventually fall over. I guess that’s somethin’.

Kobold – Ta hear some old-timers tell it, ye’d think these little buggers would die of a stiff breeze. Ol’ Finjaq thinks them old-timers need ta cut back on the Elven wine. Not that Kobolds’re much ta look at. Seem like some wee bastard children hatched from a Dragonborn, but Dragonborn got what they call “honor” and Kobolds got what they call “none.” They run in packs, see, and they’ll jump ya like a pack of bandits – shameful tactics! First time up against I thought a big man like meself would scatter ‘em, but the next thing I knew I was on the ground, all poked with holes from them spears an’ javelins they use. They’re too quick, blast their hides! All scurryin’ about and leapin’ a’fore ya can put ‘a blade through ‘em. Seen ‘em use slings too, throwin’ out burnin’ pitch or some glop ta get ya all stuck in place. Oh, they’ll fall easy enough if ye can hit ‘em and sure as hell bolt if they’re losin’ - even the bolder ones what fight with sword ‘n’ shield - but ye can’t be underestimatin’ ‘em. I guess the wretched things must even have religion, ‘cause once or twice I seen a priest with ‘em, gettin’ ‘em all puffed up ta fight harder. Fair sure I seen one spew out fire or lightnin’ once, too, so maybe them rumors that connect ‘em to dragons got some truth.

Cavern Choker – I’d tell yeh to watch for these beasties in high corners of dark dungeons, but what’d be the use? They hide like nobody’s business an’ their skin changes colors like octopi I seen in me sailor days. Blends ‘em in with the caves an’ walls they scurry up an’ down like bugs, not that ye’d want to see one up close anyway. Bit like a man, but pale as a corpse, not a shred of hair on ‘em, an’ worst of all is them overlong legs and arms they flip around like monkeys on. They bend like rubber, but they’re strong as ship’s rope an’ they’ll stretch out unnatural long ta wrap around some poor fool’s throat. Got little toothy spines all along their palms, all set ta lash ya if they ain’t chokin’ ya. I couldn’t tell ya if they got any smarts to ‘em or even know how ta talk, but they’re cunning, that they are.

PC: Quijlardunk "Quij"

Background
Born Andrew to human parents, his adopted father dubbed him Quij at an early age. His natural father was an adventurer, a fighter/mage torn between two professions and master of neither. He died when Quij was only a year old. His mother found comfort in the arms of an elf, Carric, who eventually made her his mate and gave her four more children.

Being the eldest of five, independence came natural to him. As a human living among elves, he has always been an outsider and has adapted. Still, he is more comfortable around elven kind than men and prefers to speak elven whenever possible.

Not fitting in to begin with, he felt little effect of the traditional lines between elves, half-elves, and the Eladrin. Being free to wander among the Fey, he found himself most comfortable with the Eladrin, and many of their traits have rubbed off on him including a love for magic and a bit of arrogance and detachment. While the Eladrin never accepted him as one of their own, they did bestow better treatment than an older human might have recieved, one who had already developed some of the undisciplined, bad habits of men. He relishes every moment with the Eladrin.

Personality/Skills
Perhaps from feeling outcast, or from too much time with the Eladrin, Quij does tend to be a bit elitist and perhaps even arrogant. Being a jack of all trades, he seems convinced that he really does know everything, or at least a little about everything. He enjoys observing others to learn new things, but doesn't take instruction well. He prefers to just watch, and then practice in private. The one notable exception to this is his study of magic, always willing to take instruction from a more experienced wizard.

He is a bookworm. His first stop in a new town is the library; failing that, the magic shop. As a student of mannerisms (Insight T +6), he knows that people perceive him as arrogant, but he doesn't care (Charisma 10, Diplomacy +2). Finally, he does have a penchant for the dramatic, often choosing the most spectacular course of action, if not the most efficient.

He is slow to make friends, but once a comrade proves himself to be a friend, he forms a strong bond.

Quij is a Wand Wizard but carries a staff. He does this for two reasons: both for the element of surprise, hoping his foes will assume he is a staff wizard, and because it just doesn't hurt that much when someone whacks you in the head with a wand...and you never know when you'll need to resort to violence.

20 Questions
- Why adventurer? To learn quickly, lots of exposure to many things, thirst for knowledge, especially magic
- Training? Elven magical "academy"
- Starting equipment? There isn't much really, staff, wand, robe, Adventuring pack. Saved his copper pieces. His spellbook was a surprising, and perhaps uncharacteristic gift from Carric, his adopted father.
- Worst thing that ever happened? Crappy life, mother and him only humans in family, few in tribe, outsider most of his life
- Best thing? Time with the Eladrin
- Family opinion? Father & siblings supportive, perhaps jealous, Mother disagrees after natural father died that way
- Short-term goals: New spells/rituals, magic wand
- Long-term: Find a ritual to become Fey, earn full acceptance of Eladrin

PC: Finjaaqeen "Finjaq"

Human Rogue
Good-natured scoundrel whose massive northlander frame belies a cat burglar's athleticism.

Born in the far north, the son of a fisherman in a barbarian tribe, Finjaaqeen grew up to find his brash, adventurous spirit a sharp contrast to his tribe's stoic traditions. He ran away from his village in his teens to sign onboard a merchantman, spending the next several years climbing rigging, hauling up masts, and wasting his pay on exotic tattoos from distant lands. He made friends easily with the scoundrels and sea dogs he sailed with and quickly found his named shortened to the more wieldy "Finjaq."

Finjaq enjoyed much of his time on the high seas, but found he was having second thoughts those occasions when he sailed alongside full-bore pirates. There was satisfaction in capturing the ship of some wealthy fop, his galleys rife with slaves, but too often their targets were honest merchants likely to end up in ruins for losing only a single ship. Finjaq had enough of his tribe's noble traditions in him to know he was crossing a line. He was also superstitious enough to fear the god Kord would one day drag his ship to the bottom of the sea in retribution for his actions.

In the end he jumped ship and found himself bumming around port towns and even larger cities. His money dwindled and, old habits dying hard, he found himself turning once again to thievery – this time, however, as a cat burglar who targeted only the corrupt and ridiculously opulent. There was just something about a blue blood twisting in the wind that always warmed Finjaq's barbarian heart.

Several more years passed. In that time, Finjaq, usually a free operator, kept on the move to avoid the wrath of local thieves guilds – no easy task when he was a full head taller than most and sported a faceful of tattoos. Money came and went as fast as he could spend it, but more recently, Finjaq's been looking to turn his skills toward bigger rewards. Maybe adventuring. Maybe something away from bigger cities. Maybe give the thieves guilds time to cool off…

At 6'8", 280 lbs., no one's likely to miss that Finjaq's got barbarian blood coursing through his veins. Unlike most of his countrymen, however, Finjaq worked to improve his speed and agility rather than strength alone. Years of clambering up and down rigging and, later, working as a second story man, has given him a catlike grace that belies his size. He wears a long mustache, but no beard, and his shaggy, chestnut hair hangs at shoulder's length. Tribal tattoos from a score of different ports criss-cross his face, arms and chest, and he prefers wearing leather armor cut to show them off. Finjaq's more the grinning scoundrel than barbarian brute, but he has no qualms about playing up his fierce heritage to intimidate.

In battle he swings a shortsword, usually balanced by an exotic dagger in the opposite hand. Lately he's been playing around with thrown blades, particularly a set of finely-designed shurikens "liberated" from the coffers of a corpulent moneylender with a penchant for collecting weapons.

PC: Brynn

Brynn was born years ago along the coastline to an elfish mother and a human father who belonged to a traveling band of misfit gypsies. Her mother had fallen into the troop when her own family had been killed in a raid and met Brynn's father. The group made its money by performing as musicians and by providing added muscle and numbers to farmers during harvest time. There were periods of feast and famine, but the band always stayed united and through this Brynn learned of loyalty and sacrifice, but also of the avarice of the outside world and of its unpredictability.

While this upbringing was unstable, Brynn always felt comfortable and loved and it instilled in her a wanderlust and keen desire for adventure. She would frequently roam around the land surrounding her family's encampment. The changing landscape would always bring with it opportunities to learn something new. The people she encountered would always bring new perspective and, through necessity, she learned how to best exploit their opinions and weaknesses. She charmed her way into the hearts of many and through these people she garnered skills essential for her to succeed in life. She also made friends in unexpected places.

At a young age, she was taught archery by a member of the band who saw in her the desire for a more independent future than the caravan could provide. The added benefit was that she was able to hunt and trap and provide much needed additional food and income, so her parents encouraged her. This made it doubly hard for them when she decided to go out on her own, because it was through their encouragement that she grew apart from her family and home.

She journeyed north and made her living along the way by hunting and trapping and would trade with people in villages for basic supplies. Occasionally, when the hunting was bad or the weather uncooperative, she would work in the villages as a barmaid or cook where she used her charms and friendly smile to garner her enough money to continue traveling. She fell into adventure this way. Seeking money for food and lodging, she found adventuring companions who promised wealth and excitement in exchange for her skills with her bow.

While she hopes to return to her caravan one day, her wild nature keeps her going on. Now that she has the company of people like herself, who crave adventure. She has little pull to settle into a domestic life.

Brynn is plain and luminous by turns. Not spectacular in appearance, she has brown hair and eyes and is of average height. However, upon close inspection, you see she has some beauty in her delicate features and fair skin. Her beauty is most evident when she speaks, though. She has a soft voice that knows what to say and when and convinces you of her loveliness upon hearing it. Whether this is true or not is up to the listener to decide.

Recap: "We always hang in a Buffalo Stance..."

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PC: Bakun-Awa

Bakun-Awa of the kinship Hundred Fires of the Clan Cobre was born and raised in the Dragonborn territory of Raramuri. Raramuri is known as being a "Badlands" type of area, distinguished by a deep, narrow and long canyon which serves as the primary settlement for the Dragonborn who live here. The canyon, which is also known as Raramuri, is bordered by the tail-end of a rugged mountain range on one side and by the beginning of an unforgiving desert on the other. A smaller settlement of dwarves live at the base of these mountains, while another small settlement of humans, halflings and other assorted beings live on the desert side. Both enjoy the protection of the Dragonborn, particularly from the roving tribes of orcs who lead raids out of the desert.

Bakun's immediate family is fairly small, originally consisting of his parents, his grandfather, two brothers and two sisters. His father was a career soldier and his mother is a former shield-maiden turned blacksmith. His grandfather (the father of Bakun's father) was also a career soldier and cleric, but is now very old. Bakun's father was killed in battle when Bakun was still very young, and his grandfather became a major influence on his life. When young Bakun showed an interest and aptitude in healing skills, his grandfather began his training.

At the age of 12, Bakun was considered an adult and began his compulsory military service. He continued his cleric training and also fought on the frontlines, often distinguishing himself as someone the other soldiers looked to for guidance in the field. During formal military excursions he would sometimes fight alongside dwarf and human fighters.

Two years later, orcs launched a massive raid under the cover of a vicious sandstorm. The battle did not favor the Raramuri defenders, and Bakun saw one of his brothers killed and lost sight of the other in the sandstorm. His body was never recovered, and it was assumed that he had been taken prisoner and then killed since the orcs never kept prisoners for long. Bakun was also nearly captured during this battle, but just as he was pinned down by the spear of an orc field commander, he breathed lightning for the first time. Surprising the enemy — and himself — Bakun was able to use the moment to lead a group that pushed back the raiders and eventually allowed the defenders to repel the orc raiders.

Bakun was immediately moved into a command position and steadily moved up the ranks. He had a reputation as an honorable — if pragmatic — leader who was loyal to his soldiers and tenacious in battle.

Finally, after 12 years of service, Bakun decided he had spent half his life in the military and wanted to see more of the world. He had seen larger cities on the occasional supply run and was excited by the idea of new experiences and adventures.In the following four years he has traveled, hiring himself out as a mercenary, bodyguard and field medic as necessary and learning new healing methods when possible. He is comfortable among dwarves and admires the elves, and tends to gravitate toward them in social settings.

Bakun is now 28 years old, but has the wear-and-tear of a longtime soldier. He has various scars, the most noticeable being a bumpy ridge along the top of his left eye, which was the result of a broadsword cleaving through his shield and into his head during a skirmish. The other major scar was from the spear that was driven through his right shoulder; a large, misshaped and discolored circle can be found on both the front and back of his shoulder.

Physically Bakun is actually average for a Dragonborn, weighing 260 lbs and having a height of 6'6''. He has yellow eyes and a dark, coppery color to his scaled skin. When he is breathing lightning the scales around his neck and jaw rise and become a bright orange/red color.

Some more general information:

Worships Erathis

Father: Killed in battle
Mother: A smith, cares for Bakun's grandfather
Grandfather: A former cleric, still respected and sometimes sought out for counsel. Very old.
Brother 1: Killed in battle
Brother 2: Missing in action, presumed dead
Sister 1: Archer and scout with Raramuri military
Sister 2: Trade administrator, sometimes acts as representative for Raramuri. Helps care for grandfather.

PC: Alaric Banebridge

Alaric's father was a minor knight assigned to guard a bridge on a valuable trade route, and Alaric was raised to be his successor. When he was 15, plague hit the area, killing the rest of Alaric's family and leaving him severely weakened. The lord of the area gave responsibility for the bridge to another knight, leaving Alaric adrift and alone. He found a home with the priest of the Raven Queen who buried his family, finding solace in the idea that death was a natural part of life and that it came to all eventually. Alaric traveled with the priest to a temple of the Raven Queen, where he slowly recovered his strength and learned her tenets. He made peace with his grief, coming to the conclusion that life must be lived to the fullest, with every day enjoyed, because nobody knows when the Raven Queen will come calling. Even so, a life lived without purpose is a life wasted, and in gratitude to his newfound realizations Alaric decided to dedicate his to the Raven Queen.

He began training as a priest, but when the temple was attacked by cultists of Orcus he found his true calling. Imbued with strength by his goddess he took up his old weapons and armor and fought the demon-worshippers off. It was this experience that showed Alaric the way of the paladin, and for the first time he truly felt at peace with himself. He has begun traveling to see the world and observe how others live their lives; finding life in a temple stifling and boring. His first real companion, a scoundrel named Finjaq, has certainly made things exciting, and life in an adventuring group looks to be even moreso.

Alaric is a fairly happy-go-lucky fellow, but he is quite dedicated to his goddess and has no issues with killing if he feels it is warranted. He's not a vicious murderer, however, and likes to spend time alone every once in a while, contemplating the mysteries of life. During this time he likes to occupy himself by sketching, as he is a somewhat accomplished artist, and carries around a sketchbook and pen for this purpose. Alaric rarely shares these sketches with others, but they are usually of simple daily events in villages or landscapes.

Epic Realms Recap: 1/2

The characters approach the Tomb of Akonhorus I in the Valley of the Dead. The sandstorm that was nearby in the first session is now grown to hurricane force and is bearing down on them at over a mile a minute. A thin, dextrous man in black (Soren) pops up near the entrance to the tomb and introduces himself to the party. He's got to be pretty quick about it, as he's only got a few seconds before the storm strikes. Soren explains that he's gathering information on behalf of a third party, has been tracking Rusk, and is now interested in the tomb. Lacking time for a full discussion, Aeric teleports himself, Silas, and Soren back to Rusk's fortress in Anauroch. They're met by Rusk's second-in-command, Aerys, who recognizes Aeric and Silas. She's suspicious of Soren, but he talks to her a bit and gains her trust without much difficulty (he knows she's a Harper, and she assumes he's a Harper too).

The next morning (after praying for spells), Rusk and Kwalu arrive at the compound and shift back to the Material Plane. After a brief pause for introductions and a strategy meeting, the five adventurers teleport back to the Valley of the Dead at the tomb's entrance.

T1. Tomb Entrance

5 Dust Mephits (CR 3, MM)
5 Salt Mephits (CR 3, MM)
2 Bronze Serpents (CR 10, MM2)

Completed; Aeric laid waste to the mephits and threw acidic blood at the constructs, Kwalu called upon Fang, and shifted into a "Sand Elemental" to commence the pummeling, and despite losing his sneak attack ability versus the constructs Soren accounted quite well for himself with his adamantine dagger. Silas bounded around the desert, a flurry of hands and feet denting bronze. Rusk got a few good licks in but became the primary target for the serpents; grabbed by a serpent and crushed, he then had to fight for his life under the sands as the serpent burrowed deep below the surface. Kwalu came to his aid in his elemental form, and the serpents were finally vanquished.

T2. Guardians of the Sarcophagus

(From Book of Challenges, adapted for setting)

2 Brass Golems (CR 10, MM2) healed by fire effects
3 Iron Golems (CR 13, MM) also healed by fire effects

Completed; this puzzle trap was a heck of a lot of fun. Aeric blocked the flammable poison gas vents with a wall of force, preventing much of the mayhem that might otherwise occur when the iron golems walked on the flint floor. Silas triggered the first iron golem into combat, just as Aeric realized that only 5 of the 11 statues were golems (with his arcane sight ability). The dextrous party members leapt around the room collecting keys as Rusk held the golem back. The final two keys were blocked by the fighting iron golem, so Kwalu shifted into dire bear form and "bear rushed" the golem. 8,000 pounds of dire bear crashed into 5,000 pounds of iron golem, but Kwalu had missed his footing and rebounded from the golem, landing on and cracking the sarcophagus. This triggered the remaining four golems, all of whom attacked. The two brass golems promptly banished Rusk and Soren into extradimensional mazes, but Aeric continued to use his wand of lightning to slow the iron golems as Silas, with some quick thinking, solved the key-turning puzzle and deactivated the trap. Denouement: there is now a fog of flammable poison gas in the dip in the corridor outside room T2; the party gained some treasure from this room, including a Rod of Splendor from the figure atop the sarcophagus; the sarcophagus buried itself beneath another shelf of stone, presumably to deter further disturbance; the party realized that this "final resting place" was a facade, and found the secret panel leading to more descending stairs into the real tomb of Akonhorus.

Session ends, 12:50 AM