SESSION 34A: IN THE DUST OF THE OLD CITY

January 5th, 2009
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

They decided to pursue Theral and the ratling west through the illusionary wall. On the other side they found a vast, open chamber – clearly of new construction, with walls, floor, and ceiling formed of dark stones laid in strange patterns. To the south there was a flight of stairs and to the west there was another hall leading out of the chamber.

Based on what Uranik had told them, they guessed that the stairs to the south would lead back to the sewers. They thought it likely that Theral might have fled in that direction. Or, if not, then they could quickly eliminate it as a possibility.

At the top of the short flight of stairs they found a rust- and grime-free door of iron. From this side it was obvious that the door had been rigged with a simple wire-based alarm bell. Tee snipped the wire on the crude mechanical device and then opened the door.

They’d been right: The door opened directly into the sewers. Agnarr studied the ground, but couldn’t pick any clear or particular trail from the morass of tracks in the slime and muck of the walkway. If Theral had gone this way, he could be anywhere in Ptolus already.

They took the western hall, following it as it winded its way into a medium-sized chamber littered with garbage and feces. Amid piles of rotting refuse they could see, here and there, hollowed out rats’ nests of various sizes and shapes.

Tee took one look at the disgusting muck and decided that she didn’t want to waste her time poking through it.

“But we have to search!” Agnarr said with a grunt and started bull-headedly digging his way through the piles, sending various globs of filth flying into the air.

The others groaned at Agnarr’s display, but then Tee’s sharp eyes saw a folded piece of parchment suddenly tossed up into the air. Reaching out she snatched it.

A few minutes passed and Agnarr eventually gave up and turned back to them – his hands and forearms caked in a brown film of filth. “I guess there’s nothing here.”

Tee held up the letter.

URNEST’S LETTER

You can assure Reggaloch that additional slaves will be sent to him within the week. We have become very interested to discover what our Brothers of Venom are doing that requires such a constant flow of common flock. We have asked Illadras, but she has told us not to concern ourselves with it. Be cautious, but discover what you can.

Urnest

INTO THE OLD CITY

They were badly fatigued from their exertions over the past two hours and the spellcasters – particularly Ranthir – had almost completely depleted their mystic reserves.

But if they didn’t push on, they would lose the advantage of surprise. They weren’t sure what waited for them below – down the stairs that Vocaetun had attempted to flee – but they were certain that if they left they would find these halls freshly held against them when they returned.

And so down they went.

After turning many times, the old and worn stairs bottomed out into a large cavern. Pieces of fairly crude (and very old) masonry jutted out of the cavern walls here and there. The far side of the cavern ended in a wall of ancient clay bricks, out of which bulged a half-ruined tower that extended from roof to ceiling.

Ranthir recognized these ruins for what they were, and explained it to the others as they moved down onto the hard-packed dirt floor: These were the remains of the original city of Ptolus, founded by the great sorcerer who had apprenticed Danar and been destroyed by the Banelord. It was known that many such remnants of the ancient city could still be found, having been swallowed up figuratively by time and literally by the earth.

Tee left the others behind and crossed to the door in the wall of the tower. Agnarr followed, but not too closely.

Tee quickly ascertained that the door wasn’t locked, but spent a few more moments performing a quick inspection for traps. She began to turn back towards the others to announce the all-clear—

And, with an implosion of sulphur-laced air, a dog-sized rat with flame spewing from its eye-sockets appeared directly behind her.

If she hadn’t already started turning, she might have been caught completely off-guard. Instead, as the rat launched itself towards her, she was able to spin to one side – leaving the rat to thud loudly into the door behind her.

As the rat whirled back to her, Tee rolled onto her back and stabbed up through its neck. Almost simultaneously, Agnarr – who had come rushing forward – stabbed down through its head. Their blades crossed through its throat.

As the rat squalled a dying scream, Tee’s sharp ears caught the soft murmurings of arcane chants coming from somewhere above them. But before she could shout a warning to the others, she was suddenly afflicted with a magical malaise that left her dazed.

Agnarr, seeing her eyes glaze over, frowned with concern. “Tee? Are you all right?”

Running the Campaign: A Confusion of Names – Campaign Journal: Session 34B
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index