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Conquering the Barbarian Altanis: Session 62

Adventurers

Character Class Description
Derennan Dwarf level 3 A dwarf hailing from Western Wastes.
Barad the Bald Magic-user level 1 Bald, beardless, chinless, and lazy-eyed.
Rashomon Elf level 2 A dangerous looking elf.
Llyfed Elf level 2 Thin and balding elf whom also happens to be Rashomon's friend.
Conly Fighter level 1 Young man with brown hair and eyes. Carries a shield with large acorn symbol.
Algon Thief level 1 Handsome and friendly heartthrob; shifty at heart.

Willowind 13th, Earthday

“I must return. I must.”

Derennan recruited Rashomon, Llyfed, Conly, and Algon. Together they would head back to the burial mound.

Barad decided to skip the expedition to the place where a horrific skeleton with flaming beard turned Basson into a lifeless husk whilst another skeleton cleaved stocky Gwendin in half.

Could anyone have blamed him?

Either way, the adventuring party returned to the mound with little difficulties. The only encounter of notice was a disgruntled bunch of gnomes entering Hara.

Derennan led the party into the mound through the secret entrance he discovered last time. They cautiously descended, painfully aware that their former allies might have transformed into new, potent adversaries.

Gwendin's two chunks begun to rot, attracting maggots and flies. Basso still looked like a sun dried raisin—raisin with grotesquely deformed face of horror, that is.

“I'll stand and watch guard at this intersection. An army of skeletons marched through the doors to the south last time. I don't want them to surprise us.” the dwarf announced.

“Uh, have you recovered all the valuables from your former associates? They don't need them anymore...” Algon inquired charmingly.

Llyfed and Conly descended further down, stepping over the remains of their friends. They carefully inched into the chamber with sarcophagus.

Nothing assaulted them.

The sarcophagus was half open.

A headless skeleton in chainshirt laid in it.

The elf poked it.

Nothing.

Conly poked it.

Nothing.

Conly relieved it of valuables: a chunky necklace with blue sheen and ruby stone, a large gold ring with ruby stone, and a nice looking silver brooch.

He put the ring on.

Algon screamed.

Rashomon turned in time to see a skeleton dressed in glistening chainshirt holding stone slab like it was nothing. An unreal flaming beard adorned his skull.

The undead flung the slab to the side, and tried to jump Algon. The thief evaded it just in time for Rashomon to cast Magic Missile at the skeleton.

Derennan' prediction came true. A horde of undead poured out of the south corridor.

The dwarf gingerly placed the torch on the ground.

Then he gripped his polearm and held his ground.

Algon ran up to him, preferring to fight greatsword-wielding skeletons over the scary life-sucking skeleton.

“Fall back into the crypt, three of us can surely beat him!” Conly yelled at Rashomon.

The elf obliged, taking a few steps back. He made sure to spray the skeleton with holy water as he did so. Alas, the undead was more than happy to follow, tackling the elf to the ground.

It knotted its unnaturally chilly skeletal fingers around Rashomon's neck, and then leaned in for a deadly kiss. The elf could feel life essence being sucked right out of him. It felt as if someone plunged arms right into his stomach and was churning his insides.

Conly and Llyfed witnessed Rashomon withering in front of their eyes.

“Agh!”

Derennan destroyed several skeletons, but one finally managed to get to him.

The dwarf was badly wounded.

“Will you forgive me if I run?” Algon asked charmingly.

“Do as you wish.”

The dwarf stood his ground.

Cough cough!

Rashomon rolled, coughing violently.

The skeleton crumbled to dust as it went for the second kiss, which would've surely had spelled the elf's end.

Llyfed propped him up whilst Conly ran out to help Derennan and Algon. He saw a properly bloody dwarf holding a number of skeletons at bay.

The party quickly disposed of the remaining undead.

“We are here for the red ring.” Derennan reminded everyone.

“This one?” Conly asked, showing a thick, ill fitting gold ring with ruby stone on his index finger.

“Probably.”

“Let's check what the other guy had!”

Indeed, the other guy had treasure as well: a golden necklace, a copper bracelet, and a silver bracer.

They also found a chest with 4 000 electrum pieces, and another chest with 7 000 copper pieces. They also found a well preserved parchment with squiggly lines and an x on it.

“We have one more thing to do. Pass me the oil and torches.”

They threw bassos shrivelled husk into the sarcophagus, and doused him with oil. Derennan threw in the torch.

“We are done here. Let' head back.”

The party partied hard at the Circled Star Inn, their home for the last few months.

“W-we should go straight to that old guy and buy his fucking house, right now!”

“What, in the middle of the night?!”

“Yes!”

“No, I don't think that'd be a good idea.”

“Yeah, that'd be a bit weird...”

“OK, OK, we do it tomorrow then... Bartnederer! Another round!”

Willowind 14th, Fireday

Norwood Bode, a middle aged man with slivers of white, warmly received Derennan and his friends. After a bit of friendly haggling they reached a mutually satisfactory agreement: the party would pay 3 500 gold coins, and he would vacate the building within two weeks.

And what a nice home they bought themselves! A lean, two-story building, with 30 by 20 feet base. Its half-timbered construction has been infilled with concrete rendered with white stucco giving it a bright, airy appearance. The terracotta tiled roof, pebble floor, and wattlework interior walls gave that homey country ambience.

“These walls hold many stories.”

Norwood used to run an adventuring party, a successful one at that if one is to believe him.

“I see there is only six of you here. Let me tell you that twelve of us called this place home for many seasons. I hope it serves you as well. Let me show you one more thing...”

A surprise—and a welcome one, at that—the building also has a cellar with vault, protected with two iron-barred doors.

Happy with their deal, the party was ready to head to Zarifa Pilter.

She made them wait, again. For hours.

“The clown is back! And the circus grew even bigger!”

A buxom, lithe woman slithered for her greeting.

Rashomon kept his mouth shut, unlike Llyfed.

“A bald elf, with rotting teeth? Why are you even addressing me?” she fired back.

Algon opened his mouth, but alas, made the situation even worse.

“I cannot believe it! Even when you partner with humans you manage to find the biggest imbeciles?” another stab by her.

“Well, intelligence is not a trait commonly present in those that undertake dangerous delves.” Derennan the Diplomat and Businessdwarf defused the situation once more.

“Why is that child wearing what is mine?”

“Conly? Oh, he is merely safeguarding the ring for you.”

Zarifa peppered them all with casual insults and slurs as she inspected the ring. Her cold, blue eyes began sparkling as she announced that yes, this is the ring she wanted them to retrieve.

By now the elves were giving her a death stare, which only seemed to amuse her further.

“Now, could you explain the deal you proposed last time. About the treasure we recover.”

“Yes, could you state it more directly?”

Zarifa rolled her eyes so hard she spent the whole foyer spinning.

“Direct?! Direct?! You imbeciles!”

“You bring me treasure first. I give you a good offer. Direct enough?!”

“Can we get it appraised elsewhere first?”

“Where? Doral the Lazyeyed? Don't make me laugh! If you want to shop around then our deal is off!”

“But what if you give us cutthroat price...”

“Just because I despise you doesn't mean I don't like good business. I'll always give you two options: 30% of appraised value paid on hands within a week or 65% of sell price if we represent you in a bigger market. The second option takes between three to five months, but will always be a bigger payout.”

“Can you follow all these numbers? Are your little minds spinning?”

“No, not at all. You know, I'm something of a mathematician myself.” Barad the Bald spoke.

Zarifa sized him up, without her signature snark.

The party proceeded to complete the negotiations, signed a contract that could cost them their balls, and banked 1 400 gold coins for jewellery recovered from the mound.

“You seem like a learned man.” Zarifa playfully clawed Barad's arm “Tell me more about that green cloak of yours. It is quite a statement piece.”

“Oh, I'd love to. You see, when I was in Antil, I got invited to this very private party that I had to arrive costumed...

She listened to him with the attention of lustful barbarian.

“How would you like to spend the night at the Pleasure Palace?”

“Oh, lady, I couldn't possibly afford such a fine establishment!”

“This stay would be on the House...”

“I'm in! Godspeed fellow adventurers, see you tomorrow!”

“Bah, better him than us!” elves grumbled on their way out.

“Talk to me wizard! Now that we got rid of that idiot friends of yours we can speak like learned people...”

Barad soon discovered that Zarifa is a raging sapiosexual.

He barely survived the night.

Discuss at Dragonsfoot forum.

#Wilderlands #SessionReport

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