Interlude: the Dank Pit

The adventurers find their way back to the surface, too exhausted by their ordeal and elated by their reward to notice the subtle change of mood on the streets of Cinderfall, the usual bustle of the city replaced by something more animated and sinister at its edges. 

They spend the evening going from tavern to tavern, looking for clues. Eventually, a wizened and gap-toothed ne'er-do-well gives them one, his eyes widening when he spots the flash of the arcane amulet fragment beneath Kyre's cloak. "There are stories of a place hidden in the sewers from which dark and dreadful powers seem to emanate," he eventually admits, and claims to be able to provide a more precise location for a price. When pressed he adds, "A journey into the slime and muck of the Cinderfall sewer system awaits you. What unclean foes are lurking there is anybody’s guess." 

Suddenly a huge hand clamps on Kyre's shoulder. As he tries to wriggle away, a short, wide man steps before him, while well-armed underlings hold the pirate captain's companions at bay. "We're told that you have recently obtained something of... value," the mob-boss says menacingly, staring pointedly at the fragment of the dark amulet dangling from Kyre's neck. In response, the Fleetmaster kicks wildly, but is instead pushed to the ground, the ogre-heavy weight of the  thug behind him driving the breath from his lungs. 

The sounds of fracas come from all around him, and he sees his allies also pinned in desperate struggles of their own. He catches a flash of steel, braces for the inevitable, and when it doesn't come, he hazards a peek through squinting lids. He is surprised to see familiar fur-trimmed boots and an enormous axe scything through the air as his friend the Darkoath Champion lumbers to their aid, clearing a swathe before him with the flat of his axe! Grinning as he comes. 

The unexpected reinforcements cause the villains to break and run, and the Chieftain charges after them, sparing a moment to heave the Tenebrael Shard to his feet but not so much as pausing for a greeting. 

The party stares after him, shocked by the rapid turn of events, until the Mistweaver says, 'We should get out of here, and down below, before there is another attempt to thwart us. It seems we have more enemies than we knew." 

*** 

The Chieftain returns to the shattered tavern, but the satisfied smirk on his face slips when he finds his friends gone. The few remaining patrons scatter when they see him, including the scraggle-toothed informant, but the barbarian closes the distance in three long strides and grabs the fleeing miscreant by the collar. "The pointy-ears," he growls, "where did they go?" A few short jabs to the face remind the informant of the pain to come for misinformation. "Ah! Oh! Stop!" the man cries, and points. "they... they went down t-to the sewers! Stop hitting me!" The Chieftain drops his victim in a crumpled heap and strides to the nearest sewer entrance. 

He strides confidently into the mouth of a strange tunnel which has been carved out off a sewer passage. Pungent mushrooms grow along the inside of the damp cavern walls. The narrow tunnel opens into a wide cave, though it’s so low in places that he has to crouch to keep from scraping his head on the ceiling. Just up ahead he can hear the pattering of little feet on the stone. "Elves, hang on!" The chieftain bellows, charging into the dank hole. "Help is on the way!" 

He charges headlong into a mob of scuttlings, swinging wildly; the skittering creatures dodge his wild swings, though one of them squeaks and flees through a small hole in the wall. The rest attack gamely, but only manage to bury a single arrow in the warrior's broad shoulder. 

His eyed adjusting to the gloom, the Chieftain is better able to pick his targets, and he mows them down like so much chaff, chasing the last one into the corner and skewering it pitilessly. With a low rumble, the hole in the wall crumbles shut. The barbarian stares after it for a moment, considering his options, then shrugs and throws the sole door open. 

He steps through the doorway and almost falls right over! The roughly-hewn tunnel slopes sharply downward, the stone floor slick and slippery. Ahead through the darkness he can just make out a pair of little eyes and a massive mouthful of razor sharp teeth. Some sort of monstrous squig-like creature has taken up a semi-permanent residence here. It seems that the sharply tilted slope is used as a feeding shoot for the hideous creature! 

Gingerly testing his footing, the barbarian quickly determines that the slope of the passage would amount to a deathtrap for him. After a moment, he moves to the midden wall where the Scuttling fled. Yanking on an old thigh bone protruding from the mass, he is able to open up a hole large enough to force his body through. 

He pushes himself through to find a small room filled with enormous mushrooms, exhaling great puffs on noxious vapor. It doesn't seem to bother the goblins, though... 

Charging heedlessly, the barbarian slices and dices the scuttling guards until ichor runs down the walls. Before he can stand back to admire his handiwork, though, more Scuttling spring out from cover, brandishing ebony blades! But they soon meet the same fate as their kin. 

Rummaging through the dark soil, the barbarian retrieves a tattered sack containing something shiny. Or more accurately, a large number of shiny things. The barbarian grins to himself and ties his loot to his belt.

Squaring his shoulders, the Darkoath Chieftain heaves open the exit door. A veritable swarm of scutlings, led by a Moonclan Grot, crowd the room, perched atop a great mound of pilfered purses and money-pouches. Gold glints in their green fingers, and they hiss angrily at the sight of an interloper. 

Grimly, the Darkoath Chieftain hefts his weapons and charges into their midst. First one of the greenskins falls, then another, but the weight of bodies and arrows prove too much, and he eventually succumbs. 

Much later, the barbarian awakens in a Cinderfall gutter, battered and bruised, purse emptied.  Dejected, He hauls himself up off the ground and begins limping towards the Chapel. 

Chapter 4: The Trial of Ghyran

Upon their return to Cinderfall, the group find themselves jostled by heavy crowds, and the party is separated. Somewhere in the press, Kyre begins to curse. "Somebody stole my box!" he snarls bitterly. With a gasp, the Mistweaver feels around in her beltpouch for the magic ring she found, but it is gone as well. "Pickpockets," she sighs dejectedly. 

The adventurers decide to split up, to account for various tasks. Wordlessly the Darkoath Champion limps to the nave of the Chapel of the Shattered Blade, seeking succor for his wounds. The monks at the entrance try not to boggle with disbelief. 

The Mistweaver, emboldened by her previous success at the Guild of Thaumaturgists, returns with more volatile reagents, but ends up injuring herself. 

The Tenebrael Shard attempts Conran's challenge, and his efforts gain him some renown amongst the local toughs. 

The Fleetmaster, his booted leg twitching as if it had a mind of its own, stutter-steps to the Riftmarket, where he somehow manages to talk his way out of his cursed boot - and for a tidy profit, no less. 

The champions return to their usual haunt to find Morgwaeth waiting for them, hale and healthy. The barbarian is not. "His wounds will take some time to heal," the Hag Queen explains. 

Descending once more into the Underworld, the party returns to Krink's Brokerage without further incident. When the shopkeeper sees them, he squeaks and hides behind his wares. They part the black curtain, and find that the passage beyond no longer emanates heat, though it still reeks of brimstone. They find themselves walking down an ever descending spiral, its crystal walls carved in the likeness of twisted roots. Shimmering insects crawl in the shadows, chiming softly as they scuttle over crystal blossoms. Birdsong and the drone of insect’s wings fill the still air, beckoning them onward. 

The Hag Queen pushes forward, leading them into the dark mists. When they emerge, they see vast and unnatural nebulae wheeling dizzyingly overhead, each twisted alignment spinning dark new fates. A sudden shout drags them back to reality, and to a pair of Gor rushing towards them, eyes filled with eager rage! Morgwaeth and the assassin exchange bemused looks and skewer them both where they stand. 

Never bring a Gor to an Aelf fight 

No sooner have they dispatched the hapless Gor, however, when Kyre doubles over in pain. "What's wrong?" the Mistweaver asks, concerned, but soon feels a horrible sensation of overwhelming sickness wracking her body as well. Fortunately, they are not ambushed, and soon recover when the feeling passes, as mysteriously as it came. Soberly, they press on to the next chamber. 

Clickety-click! Barba-trick! 

The floor moves constantly in this place, clicking and whirring as it interlocks and spins apart in ever-changing configurations of crescent tiles and seamlessly meshing cogworks. Barring their path stand a pair of cackling demons, glowing an unnatural pink hue. The Witch Elf strides fearlessly into the room, her wicked glaive bisecting the nearest Pink Horror with an horrible tearing sound, but the ragged halves soon rise again as capering Blue demons! The assassin appears behind the other, and rips it bodily in half, to the same effect. The Fleetmaster deflects the blows of these smaller demons, and carves two of them up, while the Mistweaver finishes the others with a series of icy simulacra. The firey daemonettes that replace them soon immolate themselves in a desperate attempt to take some of the party with them, but Kyre shields them with his sturdy drakeskin cloak. Before moving on, the Mistweaver finds a bag of gold, caught between two cogs. 

Carefully picking their way along the shifting panels, the group finds themselves suddenly disoriented. Moments pass before the champions realised what has been unsettling them so about this place. Within a great mirror their reflections move, but all is subtly wrong, the movements unnatural and out of synch with those they ape. Thinking another Pink Horror behind them, they are almost surprised, but the Fleetmaster catches it in one eye with his murder hook, and this time it does not split. Scanning the warped mirrors, his luck holds, and he finds not only some gold, but some scratches on the surface of a lens that seems to hint at what lies beyond. He shares this information with his colleagues.   

They move carefully into a chamber that makes them nearly recoil in horror. Here there squirms an unclean thing of metal and tentacular flesh. Waves of enchanted fury billow from the runes inscribed upon the creature's golden shell, driving the denizens of the tower to madness. Another Pink Horror appears from the undulating tentacles and charges mindlessly into the mirror room driven insensate by the coiled creature's magic. It is split by the Hag Queen, and its spawn are dispatched with ease by the party. "We appear to have found their lair," comments the Shard, in a rare moment of candor. They enter the room with the metallic, tentacled thing, and as they gingerly search the room, warm glow of tropical light suffuses them. They can feel their cares melting away as they breathe in the life-giving effluence. The Tenebrael Shard seems unaffected. Here, Kyre finds a leathery, tapered scroll within the squirming mass, fishing it out with a practiced flick of his hook. He begins to scan it, but stops abruptly, ashen-faced, and shoves it in his belt.

Shafts of kaleidoscopic light dance upon the air, each glittering with motes of fortune and fate. A skirling breeze sighs, stirring specks and lights alike into whirling patterns. Here, the sounds of battle ring through the air; they have interrupted a skirmish between two warring factions of the Tower, Scuttlings and Acolytes. The Scuttlings split their attacks between the Hag Queen and the Acolytes; when the remaining acolytes see the Aelves storming into the room, they flee into the multicolored mists! The Scuttlings try to web and stun the party, but are no match for them, and soon fall to the sharp blades of our protagonists. 

The Mistweaver is drawn like a moth to a side passage. Like some hideous optical illusion, everything in this chamber stretches and runs like tallow towards a roaring maelstrom that spins and whirls below.  The others move nervously into the room after the Mistweaver, and soon see the object of her fascination is not just the whirling maelstrom, but a rare treasure glimmering before her, swathed in a green mist. It seems to beckon her on, urging her to claim it. But for any such gift there is surely a price to be paid... The party tries desperately to keep the Mistweaver from leaping into the maelstrom as she seems hypnotically drawn into the room, but she reaches out and snatches it with the rest of the adventurers hanging on, finally pulling her away before the draw of the black hole at the center of the room proves insurmountable. For the next few minutes, Morgwaeth leads the Mistweaver around as she giggles and holds up her prize, a shining amulet, admiring it while ignoring everything else around her. 

Suddenly the passage before them opens up into a black, bottomless void! Morgwaeth barely keeps the Mistweaver from tumbling into it. Before they can even decide how to proceed, however,  the yawning chasm is suddenly filled by skimming, fungoid discs. The freakish things jostle together, forming a twitching bridge across which the champions scramble. In their wake, the discs flit away, back into the darkness whence they had come. Meeting them in the middle of the room, on their own platform of discs, is a party of three Gor, who seem even more disoriented than the adventurers, though no less bloodthirsty than the last, smaller group. They fare no better. 

The adventurers step over the bodies of their foes and press on. Thick swirl the shadows in this place, heavy with the scents of rich loam and sorcery. Light pulses slow and lazy from the runes graven into the ground, each languid swell of illumination like the beat of some great beast's heart. In the middle of the chamber, a blue daemon wing skirls lazily on the updrafts, until it spots the encroaching adventurers, when it swoops lazily to attack. 

The Tenebrael Shard grabs it by one horn and leaps on its back. It begins bucking and twisting as the assassin tears great gouts of flesh from it, until it plows gracelessly into the rich earth at their feet. As the clamor of battle subsides, they see that the strange fungus which infested this chamber has been greatly damaged, and has begun to wither.

The Mistweaver finds yet another amulet in the dirt, this one a complex clockwork of interlocking lenses. As her hand closes on it, she stiffens. 'This is the way,' she declares, staring hard at the mists obscuring the exit. 

The party girds themselves and advances. 

Two statues, of a warrior and a wizard, stand here on crystal plinths. Each has a weirdly avian cast, and seem so real that they might spring to life at any moment. To the champions' surprise, the wizard statue does just that. A long finger beckons them close, and a sibilant hiss demands that they choose one amongst their number to face a test of wits... 

The Mistweaver opens her mouth to volunteer but before she can find her voice, the Fleetmaster strides arrogantly to the base of the wizard statue. Drawing close to the living statue, he listens as whispered words creep softly from its graven throat, issuing a challenge and promising a reward to those able to complete it. 

The others crowd around to see what the Fleetmaster is attempting, as he mutters and curses to himself, but no amount of craning and peering can see around his drakeskin cloak. After a moment, the statue rises once more, nods once to the Fleetmaster, and deanimates. 

After poking and prodding the statues to see if they will animate once more, the adventurers begin heading in the direction that the Mistweaver had indicated, but grasping vines come alive all around them. Lashing out from the walls and through the plates of the floor, they wrap about the adventurers' limbs! 

Struggling their way forward, they come into a strange cave lit from within by grotesque fungi that throw out a flickering emerald glare. A hideous stench emanates from its vermilion depths. The moment they first step inside, the toadstools shudder and begin to exude foul spores. A deep growl sounds from inside as something huge and angry shifts in the darkness. An Ogroid Thaumaturge appears from out of the murk! The Mistweaver sends a cloud of angry faeries swarming around the creature, causing grievous wounds, but they seem to heal almost as quickly as they open! Acting on instinct, Kyre slices his way from the tightening grasp of the lashing vines, and rushes to the nearest of the toadstools. Covering his mouth with his cloak, he hacks at its trunk until he severs it completely. 

The Thaumaturge roars and charges Kyre, lifting him bodily with one enormous horn and tossing him aside like so much refuse. The assassin steps into shadow and reappears behind the beast, ripping into him but failing to bring him down. Morgwaeth takes advantage of this distraction to run stumbling through the chamber, vines grasping and tripping her the entire way. She begins to hack at the other giant toadstool. 

There comes a terrible stirring and heaving rolling through the fungal growths and, with a sound like the sighing of the wind, they spew luminescent spores into the air, making the champions choke and retch. The Ogroid, however, seems to draw strength from the tainted air. 

The furious Ogroid turns to smash the assassin into the wall, but Kyre hooks him around the ankle with his murder hook, causing him to stagger, and giving the Shard a moment to dodge the beast's massive fists. From the doorway, the Mistweaver calls on varicolored light, which slices like ribbons of steel. Disoriented, and mortally wounded, the Ogroid falls backward on the Fleetmaster's cutlass. 

The hulking monster slumps heavily to the floor. The champions hesitate to lower their  weapons, half expecting to see it rise again. It lies still, however, the baleful light fading from its eyes. After a moment, Morgwaeth turns and finishes her demolition of the remaining baleful fungus. Pulling himself out from under the corpse, Kyre glimpses a fragment of the medallion around the Ogroid's thick neck, and snatches it before the others notice it. 

The misty chamber dissolves around them like a watercolor in the rain, and the group finds themselves once again on a nondescript street in Cinderfall. No one notices their abrupt arrival. 

Chapter 3, The Trader's Gate, Part 3

Well, what do we have here? 

The adventurers follow the stairs down into a dingy little shop. A few dissolute patrons slither out when they see them enter. The shopkeeper, a wormy little grot with enormous spectacles perched on the tip of his huge nose, mutters darkly to himself. The shelves are lined with all manner of strange and evil-looking devices. It seems that Krink has been conducting a steady trade in illegal and dangerous goods. To the north hangs dark curtain from which emanates a faint reek of brimstone. The Tenebrael Shard shows the shopkeeper the amulet and his eyes light up at once, though he claims not to know a thing about it.

Like a hobby shop but for professional stabbers

Kyre's restless boot sends him wandering through the store. He picks through the rubbish for some time, turning up a great many foul and frightening objects, and something that looks as though it would be of great use: a pearlescent box that looks like it might have healing properties. A quick haggle with the shopkeeper later, he puts it in his pouch. 

Suddenly, hearing a sound beyond the door to the north, he hushes his companions and opens it. Hulking Orruk overseers glare down at a trio of Grot accountants making a catalog of the broker’s junk. Upon being disturbed they all look up, grunting and hissing with annoyance as they reach for their weapons. The shopkeeper squeaks and scuttles behind his wares. 

They got goons protecting the money. 

Get in here, guys! 

Kyre, reacting instinctively, slashes the Orruk at the door across the face, and tries to shut the door, but the greenskin shoves a boot into the doorframe and keeps it open, all while howling in anger and pain. The Tenebrael Shard steps *sideways*, into the shadows, and reappears amongst the greenskins, first slaughtering the second Orruk before he can react, then slicing two of the grot accountants to ribbons. The last one skitters into a corner and draws its bow, its shaky hands nevertheless managing to send an arrow through the assassin's arm. 

Well that escalated quickly. 

The last remaining Orruk, eyes wide, slashes at the Fleetmaster, but he wraps the 'Ardboy's choppa in his Dragon cloak and turns the blow aside. 

The other two adventurers step into the shop. The Mistweaver creates an image of a Giant Cave Squig, which lumbers menacingly towards the Orruk in the doorway. The Orruk readies himself, but is completely unprepared for the Mistweaver's rapier skewering him from another direction. 

The Shard turns and looks at the last hapless accountant, who blanches. He pulls the arrow from his arm and stomps at the poor creature, shouting "boo!" The grot flees, his abandoned bow clattering to the floor. 

The party regroups in the brokerage. The assassin reappears, wrapping a bandage around the wound in his arm. "There's a secret passage in there," he offers, with a jerk of his chin. Before they can confer further, however, the mysterious curtain behind them opens, and two fanatic acolytes appear! 

"Have you heard the good news about our Lord?" 

 The Barbarian whirls and catches the nearest foe across his mask with the flat of his war axe, but fails to deliver a killing blow with his broadsword, the Tenebrael Shard steps to the other opponent and slashes his bare chest with his finger claws, but also fails to drop him. Watching this, the Mistweaver rains terror on the mind of the first acolyte, sending him quivering to the floor, before stepping forward to finish off the last one. 

"Is that all of them?" She gingerly peels back the corner of the curtain with her sword, before the heat and smell drive her back. 

Once again, the party regroups. This time, the assassin opens the door. 

Is that it?  

A wizened grot sits behind a huge desk with his feet up. Two hulking squigs chained like hounds at his feet gaze hungrily up, saliva spilling from their massive jaws. The grot squints at them. “And who be dis, come visit Krink? Them topsiders been making trouble, maybe? Not no more.” He grins, and unleashes his Squigs. 

"Say hello to my leetle friends!" 

The Tenebrael Shard meets them halfway and cuts down one of them. Its companion lunges but its massive jaws snap shut only on air, as the Shard vanishes, reappearing behind his companions. The Squig lopes after him, and finding the fleetmaster in the way, latches on to his one good leg. 

Kyre howls in pain and tries to kick the squig off. Distracted, he does not see Krink approach the doorway, uttering an incantation. A distorted face appears in front of him, in the shape of an orange moon, and Kyre is utterly mesmerized. 

The Mistweaver, and the barbarian help Kyre emphatically detach the toothed fungoid from his leg. Regaining his senses, though still feeling woozy, the Fleetmaster staggers towards his tormentor. His murder hook catches the grot on the shoulder, freezing his cackling grin into a mask of pain. Then the assassin steps through the door and begins to tear into him... but before he can land a killing blow, Krink slips into the shadows and vanishes! "I feel like I should have been more prepared for this," the Tenebrael Shard mutters to himself. 

"Betcha didn't see that comin'!"  

Suddenly, from behind them, they hear the sizzling sound of a magical curse fill the air, as Krink reappears from the Storeroom! The Mistweaver and the Chieftain are both sent reeling backwards, but Kyre is able to avert his gaze, pulling his cloak over his face. "Of course!" The assassin exclaims. "The secret passage!" 

Krink vanishes out of sight again, but this time he is replaced at the storeroom doorway by the remaining Grot accountant, wielding a large burlap sack and accompanied by two stockgrots bearing bows. The Mistweaver, caught flatfooted, manages only a desultory stab at the nearest one, to no effect. But the Tenebrael Shard, hearing the commotion from the other room, vanishes himself and reappears behind the erstwhile Grot archers, slitting both their throats before they can so much as cry out. Then he moves to the entrance to the secret passage, in case the Broker tries his disappearing act again. 

"I've come to hold you all... accountable." 

Meanwhile Krink reappears in his Den, and once again tries to curse the Fleetmaster. Kyre is ready this time, though, and again hides his face in his cloak. He waves at the barbarian to ignore the accountant and join him in the Broker's Den. "Don't let him get away!" he cries as he stumbles one-legged towards the Broker. His cutlass rises and falls, and the Broker crumples with a cry. 

Checkmate. 

Hearing his boss' cry of anguish, the accountant throws his sack into the Mistweaver's face and gets away once more in the confusion. 

After catching their breath, the rest of the party rummage through the junk as Kyre rummages through the Broker's clothes. He finds a greasy document in the Broker’s pocket, a bill of sale written in the language of the servants of Tzeentch. It seems that Krink has been doing business with the mutated grots of the Silver Tower, and has been making use of a portal in his shop to facilitate the dealings. A note hidden in a false drawer reveals the secret to opening the gateway. 

"We should return to the surface," the Mistweaver admonishes. "get some rest, and maybe some advice, before we proceed. Everyone agrees, particularly Kyre. "I gotta get rid of this thing," he remarks, staring down at his twitching, booted leg. 

Da Reel MVP

Chapter 3, Part 3: Adversaries

The adversaries I will likely need for the conclusion of The Trader's Gate: Some Grots, Squigs, Orruks and a couple of pieces of scatter terrain

 

Chapter 3, The Trader's Gate, Part 2b

Behind the door, they find a band of rats, who seem to have been cornered by a wandering band of mindless plague daemons. The two groups brandish their weapons at one another, but have not yet come to blows. When they see the party approaching they forget their quarrel however and turn their hostility upon them alone! 

We didn't mean to crash your party...

'Get back,' the Shard hisses, and he steps back himself to let the lumbering creatures teeter through the door one at a time, while the others block the entrance, preventing the seething Skaven from lending aid. The work is exhausting, as the stench of these foul demons makes their eyes water, and the blows they do land seem to have little effect. Suddenly, before even the first Plaguebearer is felled, another swarm of rats appears out of the muck! 

It never rains but it pours... rats

Desperately they manage to fend off the surge of bodies, and as the Mistweaver and barbarian beat back the ugly swarm, Kyre and the assassin begin to land telling blows on the demons assaulting them. Finally the Tenebrael Shard is able to move swiftly into the chamber where the skaven await, menacingly, and divide their attention enough to allow the others to slip through the door. Kyre effortlessly bisects the Clawlord's companion, but the Skaven commander merely squeals with joyful bloodlust, the warpforged blade of his halberd clanging off each adventurer's weapons and armor, and occasionally finding their mark, one swift strike catching more than the Mistweaver's robes. The Assassin, though, slips past the Clawlord and reappears on his other side, his claws tearing deep into the rat-man's flesh, and as he screeches Kyre's murderous hook rises and falls, once, cutting off the dissonant cry. The Darkoath Champion rushes to the Mistweaver's side and helps her with her wound. 

I thought I'd seen the last of you! 

The party gathers at one of the doors, and Kyre pulls it open. They find a narrow passage leading downwards, the floor slippery and befouled. Chittering creatures stir in the dark, their red eyes glowing hungrily as they dash madly towards Kyre, silhouetted in the doorway. Once again the creatures prove elusive at first, and once again they are eventually beaten away. 

The passage leads to a staircase, leading down. One at a time the party proceeds down the stairs. 

Chapter 3, the Trader's Gate, Part 2

(Literally Groundhog Day but with Skaven) 

The party descends into a rank and fetid underworld of disease and filth. "The vast sewers of Hammerhal are ancient and complex, their dark passages bent and twisted beyond the knowledge of those who dwell above. Only the foul denizens of the city's stinking underbelly can claim any real familiarity with its sludge-filled pits," the Mistweaver notes, as if reciting from a text. 

Once the stately lower floor of an upper-class bathhouse, this sunken room has long since fallen into disuse. The old drains now serve as gateways for all manner of filthy vermin to crawl up through. Two skaven warriors do so now, as the party watches! 

Yelp review: 0 out of 5 stars 

They are no match for the readied weapons of the Aelves, however, and soon the floor is stained with their blood. The Fleetmaster soon discovers a huge rusted lever, and when he pulls it, the drains shut. 

Suddenly a movement behind the party causes them to snatch at their weapons. They are astonished, however, to see the bloodied, limping form of their barbarian friend joining them at the bottom of the stairs! "You must be indestructible," The Mistweaver wonders. The Chieftain does not reply, but grins mirthlessly, and bleeds from a dozen cuts. 

With barely a pause, the assassin steps next to the Fleetmaster and opens one of the exits to this former bathhouse. A small band of ratmen skitter in the darkness of a sludge-filled chamber. One of them stands in the center of the room, grunting as it struggles to retrieve a glowing green stone from the center of the pit. 

R.O.U.S.es? I Think they don't exist 

The Shard attacks the Skaven at the door and retreats. The Skaven, wounded and out for blood, follows him into the room, but is surprised by the Fleetmaster on the other side. The Clanrat lashes out, lacerating the Fleetmaster's arm before he is skewered by the Mistweaver's keen blade. At this, the Clawlord looks up from his work and charges into the party, badly injuring the Shard, but in return leaves himself open to a furious assault by the Darkoath Champion, who only by chance fails to kill him on the spot. The king rat is dispatched by a well-placed dagger from the Shard, while the Mistweaver bombards the Skaven in the bathhouse. The Chieftain then charges the remaining Clanrat, who had retreated further into the filth hole, and beheads him. 

Somewhere deep in the sewer tolls the gonging of a great sonorous bell. "I think they know we are here," Kyre notes grimly, as he bandages his wound. 

The party regroups in the bathhouse. Two Skaven drop from the pipes along the ceiling and attack! Mistweaver draws her sword and skewers one of them, and the Shard, as usual, steps to its side and finishes it off. The other Clanrat, attracted by the smell of blood, skirts around the Fleetmaster and launches into the Darkoath Chieftain, but its blows rain on his armored pauldrons, and the Chieftain just laughs and smites the rat to the ground! 

Kyre beckons them back into the filthy hole that the Clawlord was searching, drawn by the green glow deep within. As they turn to search the hole, however, more Skaven appear in the doorway! "Where are these damned things coming from?" Kyre growls. 

Skaven inconsiderately interrupting the looting of their home 

The barbarian fells the clanrat in the middle of the doorway, clearing the way for the Tenebrael Shard to move in between the other two, bisecting one of them. Before he can turn, however, the other lays a flail into the Darkoath Chieftain's head, with a resounding thock! But the headstrong barbarian just grins and shakes his head, and the Clanrat is almost as surprised at that turn of events as he is at the assassin slitting his throat from behind. 

The barbarian wipes rat blood off of his face and reaches into the filthy hole, but snatches his hand back with an angry snarl. "There's something in there," he mutters. "Something with teeth." Undeterred the Mistweaver reaches down, and pulls out a gleaming stone, which transforms before their eyes into a ring. The sorceress smiles and slips the jewelry into her pouch. 

Once again the party regroups in the bathhouse, and prepare to investigate the second door when they hear a horrid scrabbling as a swarm of tiny creatures burrow up out of the filth in the next room and swarm towards them. The barbarian laughs. "I told you there was something in there!" he cackles. The Mistweaver and Shard exchange an exasperated look. 

Maybe they ran out of big ones 

It somehow takes their combined efforts to stomp the swarm into quiescence. 

Finally the party finds themselves at the unexplored exit once again. The assassin pulls open the door. 

 

Chapter 3, The Trader's Gate, Part 1b

The group spreads out to investigate this den of evil. Behind the altar, the Mistweaver finds a pile of gold - offerings for some forgotten demon, most likely. As the party gathers themselves to delve deeper into the Underworld, however, they hear the skitter of claws on stone behind them. It appears that they have been followed into the dark! 

I think I hear something 

As he turns to locate the source of the skittering, he is jumped by a pair of scheming Skaven. Their blades connect, and the big man falls. Roaring in frustration, Kyre steps over his fallen friend, shielding him from any death blows, and delivers one of his own to the nearest ratman. His companion steps back, but not far enough to escape the wrath of the Tenebrael Shard. The Mistweaver, aiming carefully, lobs illusory bolts over everyone's heads and finishes off the Grot archer hiding in the doorway. 

The Chieftain groans. The Mistweaver helps him up, and slips the Barbarian the potion she had brewed in Cinderfall with a sly grin. 

They find Olmar's hidden shop, and this time do some shopping. Kyre finds a single boot that looks like it will fit. The Mistweaver finds an amulet. The Orruk guards finger their weapons menacingly but make no move towards them. The Tenebrael Shard finds a secret door; the shopkeeper ushers them angrily through it and into a dark alley behind the shop, where they are accosted by Scutlings! 

 

"We have to stop meeting like this" 

The Tenebrael Shard dances forth, cuts up one of the Scutlings, then retreats back into the shadows. The rest of the Grots surge forward and badly maul the exposed Kyre before he can retreat as well. 

The Darkoath Chieftain grins and quaffs the potion*, then lays into the hapless little grot in front of him. He steps over its twitchin corpse and attacks the one behind it, but misses! The Mistweaver is more accurate, and her bolts fell it, while the Aelven assassin moves swiftly to dispatch the last remaining foe. 

They move towards the far end of the alley and find stairs leading down. The Mistweaver leads the way, but the Darkoath Chieftain lingers in the alley, spying a glint between two cobblestones. Suddenly he stiffens, as he hears quiet rustles and clanks stirring in the darkness all around him. He can feel danger drawing close. 

Wait I think I hear something again

Out of the shadows springs a horde of bloodthirsty Khorne worshippers, while sneaky grots appear from behind! "Run!" the barbarian growls to his two companions on the stairs, and he begins to hew and hack with his blades. The Fleetmaster and assassin try to cut their way to their companion, but despite killing the leader of the band they see the effort is futile, and decide that discretion is the better part of valor. The last they see of their new friend is his muscled torso disappearing under a cloud of flashing blades. 

*(I have no idea how to describe this narratively. The potion is the Trickster's Brew, and one of the things that you can do with it is switch the user's Renown marker with that of another character. I set it up so the next kill would get renown, and then had the Chieftain switch with the Black Ark Fleetmaster, who was one renown away from Glory. This let me use the Glory for Second Wind, allowing me to heal the Barbarian up to full actions, because I am a clever boy indeed. Not that it mattered in the end, grumble). 

Chapter 3, The Trader's Gate, Part 1

Following their unlikely escape from the twisting passages of the Silver Tower, the companions find themselves branded and in possession of a dangerous artifact, one which has clearly bonded the group. They cannot let this mystery go unsolved, at least not until they are free of the mark. They first pay a visit to the Aelven Loremaster Alnum Starcrest. She listens carefully to the tale, then takes one look at the artifact which the Tenebrael Shard proffers, and recoils. “An instrument of dark power,” she says, stroking her chin, “and a grim portent. It is clear that the forces of chaos are moving against Hammerhal. My sages have heard whispers of strange portals opening beneath the lost undercity, and of foul things emerging from them. I see now that the two must be linked. I think that you must explore these portals and what lies beyond them, if you wish to solve the riddle of the amulet… and of the mark which you now carry together.”

The party each goes their separate ways, to recover from their experience each in their own way, resolving to meet at the tavern the next day. On his way to the Bazaar, an old man lurches towards Kyre and gives him a sword, pleading for him to return it to its home. Reluctantly, and for a price, he does so, rebuffing the recipient's tearful gratitude but gladly accepting the reward for its return. 

Morgwaeth enters the Chapel of the Shattered Blade, though she meditates in her own way. Though it will take time, her wound will heal. 

The Barbarian engages in a martial contest, and impresses the notorious Conran. 

The Assassin goes gambling, and loses everything. 

The Mistweaver buys alchemical ingredients, and brews a Potion. 

The next evening, the group gathers at the inn, less Morgwaeth, who is still nursing a grievous wound at the Chapel. The Shard brings news of a black market dealer in Tzeentchian artifacts that may be able to help them find one of the lost portals beneath the city. Once more your party girds themselves, this time for a journey into the underworld of Hammerhal. 

As soon as they descend, they hear the low chanting of deep voices as they step through the doorway of a strange temple. Before them is a hall lined with horrifying statues sculpted in the image of hideous dark gods. The hulking warrior supplicants rise with weapons lifted. At the far end of the temple stands their master, a half-daemon lord of evil! 

The party interrupts an infernal ritual

Kyre steps into the room, both guarding and making room for the Mistweaver in the doorway. The Darkoath Chieftain sees the pair of Khorne warriors standing in between him  and the Sorcerer. He grins and begins loping down the chamber towards them. They meet in a mighty clash of arms - and the Chieftain falls! The Mistweaver, seeing this, reaches into her pouch and withdraws the Phoenix Heart, squeezing it until blood runs down her arm. Several drops fall onto the floor next to her, and the Chieftain appears safely next to her, his wounds healing as she watches. Once she is certain that her companion is safe, she turns her attention to the demonic form at the end of the hall, and launches illusory bolts at it, but the only one that connects fizzles without apparent effect across the creature's golden armor. 

The Chaos Sorcerer Lord cackles, and moves with preternatural swiftness towards the Black Ark Fleetmaster. His magical weapons sizzle, and Kyre buckles under this viscious assault. His frantic flailing in response somehow connects, however, and the Sorcerer howls in pain. 

Seeing an opening, The Tenebrael Shard slips up next to the evil lord and lets fly with a barrage of slicing attacks. To everyone's astonishment, each attack connects, and he finally sends the Sorcerer crashing into the far wall. Kyre wastes no time to follow up, moving next to the assassin and slicing open one of the worshippers with his Murder Hook. The remaining Khorne devotee cuts furiously at the Shard, opening up a ragged slice on his arm, but the Darkoath Barbarian closes the distance once more and finishes him off with sword and axe. 

The hall falls silent. 

 

Chapter 2 Part 2: Hysh Continued

(For the preamble and premise, start here) 

The party, gathered at the doorway, is momentarily distracted by the promise of untold riches, but a snort quickly focus their attention to the middle of the room... and upward! There, atop a glittering prize, a blue minotaur glares down at them, preparing to charge. 

An enraged Ogroid Thaumaturge faces down the party

"Run," the Mistweaver murmurs, and she lobs mystic bolts at the oncoming monstrosity before turning to flee herself. She takes shelter behind Kyre, who turns just in time to catch a pummeling from the Ogroid. the beast shoves him back and down between the wizard and the witch. 

The Tenebrael Shard shimmers in the air like a mirage on a hot day and reappears behind the Ogroid, tearing huge chunks of flesh from its flank. Morgwaeth steps forward and contributes her own heavy blows from her glaive. The arcane creature staggers, but does not fall; howling in pain as well as rage it lowers its heavy brow and attempts to gore Kyre where he lay, but the confined quarters makes it difficult to land a blow. It does not get another chance. 

The Uglu assassin and the Hag Queen redouble their efforts, slashing and stabbing, sending the beast reeling into the blade of the Mistweaver. It drops suddenly at their feet. 

The Aelves look at one another, hardly able to believe that they have survived. They carefully regroup at the door to the treasure trove. 

Kyre is the first to brave the shifting dunes of gold, his sword leg threatening to bind and catch with every step. He stoops to gather a fistful of coin, and his face clouds in rage. "Fool's gold!" he sputters, and throws the coin against a wall. 

Suddenly, amidst the coiling mists something moved, a strange figure approaching through the shimmering glare. This was no monstrous foe stepping into the light, however, but another lost soul seeking freedom from this place. Morgwaeth and the Mistweaver turn to fight this new foe, but the hulking figure makes no move to draw his own weapons. "Help me leave this place," he growls, "and I will pay you handsomely." 

Morgwaeth's eyes narrow appraisingly. After a moment, she replies, "help us fight our way out of here, and no debt will be due." 

A wild Darkoath Chieftain Appears 

The party proceeds carefully across the treacherous, glittering piles, new companion in tow, until a new chamber coalesces out of the mists, preceded by a beast's musty stink.  Clawmarks marred the walls, and gold glinted amidst the bones on the floor. From dark corners and piles of refuse tiny corrupted figures appeared, with the faces of grots and the bodies of spiders. They rush the party and attack. 

The Scuttlings defend their lair 

Agile as they are, they are no match for the swift and vicious Aelves, and they tear through the creatures one after another... until blazing shafts of light glare fiercely down from the shattered roof, striking the floor with sizzling points of heat! The party are stunned, but quickly recover, and finish off the remaining hapless Scuttlings. 

Rooting through the bones, the Mistweaver finds a trove of real gold, and nestled in a broken ribcage, an gem in the shape of a heart, shimmering from ash black to fiery red. The Mistweaver gasps, and slips it into a pouch. "The Phoenix Heart," she murmurs to herself. "Now this may come in handy." 

Unable to find an egress from this abandoned nest, the party carefully picks their way across the treasure room to the fork they had passed through earlier, and choose the way not taken. 

They step through a shimmering blue haze and into a profane temple to Tzeentch, and behold a great statue of a daemon lord. At the statue's feet they see two great crystal prisms, each mounted upon an intricate clockwork dais. From these prisms spill a searing beam leaping out like a river of power to scorch the walls black. As they take in the awesome sight, Blue Horrors coalesce in the room in front of the statues, while a Pink Horror steps out of a swirling portal to the left of the adventurers. 

The party is greeted by Daemons in a profane temple

Kyre steps into the door, pivots right, and tears the Pink Horror in two with his murder hook. The Hag skewers one of the Blue Horrors between the prisms. The Horrors caper and launch rainbow-hued fire. 

They feel a horrible high-pitched hum in the air, and a malign darkness seeps into the corners of the room, shadows that portend a growing evil.

One by one, the adventurers enter the temple, killing all of the Blues and the Brimstones they spawn, save for one, that capers out into the hall and harasses the Mistweaver with Blue Fire, finally connecting with a surprisingly heavy blow. 

The Tenebrael Shard, leaving the remaining tiny daemons to his companions, moves to the rightmost prism and, with an effort, turns it so its beam falls upon the statue at the center of the temple. As the beam strikes the daemon statue, a terrible shriek of rage resounds from within, and great cracks begins to spread across its surface. Living flames leap out of the conflagration with a hiss and a sputter. Brimstone Horrors appear at the base of the statue and attack! 

Undaunted, the Shard leaps across from one statue to the other, casually slaying the Horrors that dared to stay in his path, and pulls its coruscating beam onto the statue to join that of the first. 

The beams reveal their quarry 

As the daemonic statue at last shatters apart, blue flames roar up from its sundered remains. Striding forth from amid those spectral fires is revealed the magister of Tzeentch. “You should not have come,” he hisses, “this affair is beyond you.” He favors the assembled heroes with an unsettling smirk, then raises his staff and darts to attack, the stolen amulet still gripped in his twisted fingers.

With a twisted incantation, the Magister vanishes. In his place stands the bewildered Darkoath Chieftain. Before anyone can react, the disciple of Tzeentch reveals himself in the place the Chieftain once stood, right amongst the party! His magical blade cuts a swathe through the warriors around him, then he switches back and cackles. 

Enraged by this eldritch trickery, the Barbarian charges and his War Axe sings, but the Magister seems unfazed, though the wounds cut deep. The Fleetmaster joins him, but his murder hook catches only air, but the Witch Aelf fares better, her glaive scoring a deep crimson line down the Magister's arm.  

Suddenly, one of the prismatic statues moves of its own accord. It catches the remaining pair of Brimstone horrors in its scourging light and incinerates them. 

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the Shard steps into nothing and disappears, instantly reappearing by the Magister's side. with a soft chink a length of barbed chain uncoils and wraps around the evil wizard's neck before tightening and severing it clean off! 

The foul creature crumbles to the ground with an agonized shriek. His flesh blackens and withers as if he were being consumed by a raging flame. “My Master will not be stopped so easily, fools! Your world shall crumble!” his decapitated head shrieks from within the swirling conflagration. Within moments nothing of him remains but a gaping skull and twisted bones. Clutched in the charred remains of his finger bones is the amulet, and beside it a gleaming fragment of gemstone that fits perfectly into one of the eight sockets cleverly built into the device. As soon as they put it into place, the tower dissolves in a swirl of light, and they find yourself returned to Hammerhal. The morning dawn light is just breaking above the buildings. 

Chapter 2: The Trial of Hysh

The Tenebreal Shard rises from the floor, one hand against the wall to steady himself. Morgwaeth goes to help him. 

After a moment, the assassin growls, "We must pursue him," and without waiting for assent, staggers through the portal! The witch and the mage look at each other, then follow wordlessly. 

Kyre looks back the way they came, longingly. "Well, I've come this far," he says to himself, then runs into the orange mists. 

The party contemplates a Narrow Ledge

As he emerges, he finds the others examining a strange chamber. As they watch, the sound of clattering gears fill the air, and sections of the floor rotate away until only a narrow ledge remains. As the Tenebrael Shard begins his first tentative steps across that precarious span, an unnatural zephyr begins to blow! 

Despite his injury, the shadow aelf steps nimbly across the ledge. Morgwaeth follows, then the Mistweaver, but just as she steps onto the precipice she is buffeted by a crosswind and slips! Leaping desperately, she catches the far ledge as the cogworks beneath clank and growl like some ravenous mechanical beast. The others help her across and she takes a moment to catch her breath. Then it's Kyre's turn. 

Kyre steps gingerly onto the platform, his leg blade skittering nervously across the smooth steel, unable to find purchase. Wobbling worryingly, he stumbles first, then reaches the other side with a sigh of relief. Sparing the chasm a respectful glance, he then begins to examine the far side of the chamber in earnest. There, amongst the glitter, he finds a shining gold piece, and tracks, possibly of daemonic origin, leading into the shrouded mists to a golden portal. They follow. 

The party meets a Librarian in his study

As the great golden portal swings wide, beyond is revealed a library that seems stolen from some madman's dreaming. The air grows into a thick and a billowing multi-colored smoke and from that fume steps the daemonic librarian of the strange chamber, one digit laid upon his rubbery lips in a mocking appeal for silence. 

With sudden alacrity, Kyre lunges forward, slashing the daemon twice. The injured Shard darts around a pillar, emerging at the creature's flank to add his own red marks. Morgwaeth ululates a high-pitched war cry and joins the fray, her fearsome glaive finishing the Librarian, tearing it cleanly in two with a  wet and monstrous ripping sound. Where once stood a great pink-fleshed being now two smaller blue simulacra took its place. They tell the hag queen a precious secret, an ancient incantation that will still the blinding light of sorcery for a time, then they vanish returning to the shimmering smoke from whence they came. 

The Mistweaver strides imperiously into the library, casting her gaze about, her stillness suggesting a preternatural concentration. Then, at a gesture, the Tenebrael Shard steps forward into the glittering mists, heavy with half-glimpsed shapes and the shattered fragments of memories. The sound of running footfalls soon resolve themselves into those of fanatical cultists, like the ones that attacked them in the tavern far above - or perhaps, by now, elsewhere? 

The party encounters a roving band of cultists

The two groups meet in a vicious clash of steel. The Cultists are quickly dispatched, but not before one of them deals the witch aelf a grievous wound to her flank. In the aftermath, Kyre searches the chamber and finds a bag of gold. The Mistweaver scrutinizes the door and suggests the left most. When the party arrays around it, blinding light engulfs them, a searing luminescence manifested without warning. For a span of time which may have been seconds or centuries they hang in that eerie void, before reality springs back with a roar. They reappear exactly where they stood. Exchanging bewildered glances, they push forward into the next chamber. 

Glittering white and yellow, the floor of this room seems filled with endless piles of gold coins. Before they have time to contemplate their good fortune, however, the party is cowed before the grotesque sight in the middle of the room, facing them... 

(At this point, a short pause while I paint the model I need for this encounter. Will the party survive this new peril? Stay tuned!)