Castle Ravenloft Adventure

Seeing Lucca go flying and the hag standing alone, Veraun launches a lightning blast.

DMG - 30

NOTE: I cant seem to host the image at the moment, sorry

Hag-2 hits; 30 total damage to Lucca and slides him to O10
Kalleth- to P6
Lucca- stands; defends (+2 AC and Reflex)
Bard- to P10; heals Lucca for 16 damage; to S13
Veraun- hit; 35 damage to Hag;
Eel 2- flees
Solariel- casts scorching ray; miss
ROUND END
Hag-to O13 (Beleth moves to N13); 3 hits (claw 2 crit), 50 damage

"You look like you could use a hand" says Bard as he flies past Lucca and, with a few magic-infused notes, restores some of the ranger's resilence before taking cover behind a tree.

Lucca groans and picks himself up. "Going to feel that in the morning." He readies his weapons and prepares for the hag's next attack. Suddenly a bolt of lightning flashes past his head and strikes the hag square in the chest. She shrieks with pain and recoils from the blast- a cursory glance reveals Veraun, his hand outstretched and his fingertips still smoking.

Kalleth uses the distraction to reach dry land, while the female mage fires off another ray, only to have it soar too far to the left.

The hag catches her breath, glares at Veraun with all the malice in the world and then-VANISHES.

"Where'd she get to?! shouts Kalleth.

"Probably did the smart thing and took off."

Veraun felt a slight tap on his shoulder- Beleth's clawed hand.

"Um, master..."

"What is it you impudent little-"

Veraun turns his head and sees the hag standing just feet away, still shimmering with residual fey magic.

"....Clever girl..."

Two sickly yellowed claws slash into the mage, one catching him square across the face. As blood covers his eyes he feels the horrid fey take him up as it had Lucca and slam him furiously into the trunk of the tree. He collapses to the ground, his body all but broken.

....Jarlaxle...you son of a drider...

Combatant’s Status
Hag- 75 damage taken; BLOODIED
Kalleth- 10 damage taken
Bard- FULL HP; 49 charges left; 1 1st level spell used; 1 2nd level spell used
Lucca- 44/60 HP, +2 AC and Reflex this turn
Veraun- 4/54 HP; PRONE and BLOODIED;Levitate used; 49 charges left; 1 3rd level spell used
Solariel- 1 lst level spell used; 2 2nd level spells used

Prone, Veraun attempt to channel energy through Beleth. "Get the hag!" Veraun mentally screams at Beleth as he cast Shocking Grasp.

DMG - 17

Oh dear, oh dear, Bard sighed, an odd smile on his face. It seems that someone else needs help.

Spurring his heron, the bard flied over to Veraun, and with a dexterous move dodged the hag's swipe of opportunity; sensing his own chance, the purple-haired traveller swung his staff viciously down upon her head, getting a solid blow for his effort.

36 DAMAGE

Almost simultaneously with his attack, Bard's other hand reached out, and an ethereal tune plays around him, with an almost physical presence about it. The wounds Veraun suffered heal before everyone's eyes.

26 HITPOINTS

There now! Bard said in satisfaction, looking down from his perch on the heron at Veraun. I can't keep saving you, you know, so try to keep my heroics to a minimum, yes?

As the last word left his lips Bard heard the eerie, spastic, deep breaths of the hag who had now crept right behind him. Close enough that she could probably have taken him into a deadly hug, but he turned taking his stick in both hands and swinging it along with him to connect against her saddened face, and as it slammed into the side of her head, just behind the temple of her wretched face one of her lethal claws caught onto it. Bard, being no novice, readied for a kick but in a flash her arm jerked back...as her hand stayed, grasping the stick. She let out a cry that would rival even that of the angriest banshee, spinning around to intercept the next hit.
She swung around just in time to catch two scimitars brought up into her rib cage, but with both lodged inside she swung her hands out then back in, in an attempt to clap Lucca's head between a giant hungry claw and a newly acquired bloody stump.
And before she could stop them the blades had been torn from her torso, and brought between them facing out catching the claw and arm above the stump, she had impaled her own arms on the poised and waiting blades. With a single jerk and slash, both blades were brought out and around from left to right, removing her head.

As her head toppled off, before it hit the ground Lucca's blades were sheathed and her locked had been swiped off her now wide open neck. Here deteriorated, saggy body fell to the ground.

Lucca pocketed the locket and as he walked by Bard, waved a hand in appreciation, making his way to the relic.
He looked close at it, inspecting it as he took it in his hands, before walking back over to the party, strolling up about the same time as Kalleth.

There is a blur of glinting metal, the snicker-snap of blades- the hag's head flies off. Black blood with hints of dark green ooze from its stumbling body, which flails uselessly about. But the head-the head still twitches. Still animated by fey magic, it unleashes a blood-curdling death shriek.

In its timbre is a rage beyond mortal comprehension and yet all the sadness of the world- a cry which speaks of broken hearts and grief turned hate. Its notes are filled with the last vestiges of her magic and those immediately present cannot help but feel something in their souls grow numb.

DM NOTE: Veraun, Lucca, and Bard all incur a -5 penalty to Fortitude and Will saves for 24 hours, the result of the hag's dying curse.

As her body falls back a lightning fast scimitar swipe plucks the silver locket from around the stump of a neck.

Lucca and anyone else inspecting the locket

Spoiler:

Kalleth walks over, dripping wet and slightly covered in eel gore.

"I figured this fight would get ugly," he says, irritably kicking the hag, then pointing to her lifeless face."But I didn't think it was going to get THAT ugly."

Beleth, for his part, enjoys the joke.

Looking around at the pillars and other bits of debris you notice intricate carving of trees and animals of all varieties etched into the stone. It takes little to deduce that there was once a shrine here, likely dedicated to the Oaken Father, god of nature.

But all that remains here now is a glowing circle of magic, inside of which rests a thigh bone encased in blue crystal.

Spot DC 15

Spoiler:

Arcana or Religion DC 12

Spoiler:

Arcana DC 16

Spoiler:

Arcana or Religion DC 18

Spoiler:

You are reminded of the words of Madam Eva as you look at the relic- gather all three tainted relics in order to cleanse them of their dark powers.

Holding the crystal firmly in both hands, Lucca squeezes and twists a little.

Seems the crystal is not so strong, it can be broken away but should we free the bone from the crystal, or keep it all intact? He looks to Veraun and Bard, being the magic users, curious to their thoughts.

Bard pulls a finger from his ringing ear to look almost blankly at the hunter.

Pardon? There's still a ringing in my ear. Hold on a moment. He pauses and concentrates a moment on his staff, before turning back to the elf in front of him. Now, what were you saying again?

Lucca, nonplussed, explains again as they walk toward the circle where the relic had once been sitting.

Oh. How interesting, he murmurs to himself, leaning over for a closer, admiring, look the sight of the bone in the crystal.

Ah, yes. We can break it easily. He urges his heron forward. The animal squawks, and shakes its wings, but follows its master's command, taking him through the circle surrounding the relic. Bard dismounts, and begins to study the circle.

SPOT: 16
ARCANA: 20
RELIGION: 15

I can't decide whether to say 'Aw, how cute,' or 'That's just wrong,' Kalleth quipped sarcastically, seeing Urik's picture in the locket. He shuddered and added, more sincerely, Either way, just disturbing. And puzzling.

Not waiting to see how his joke goes over, Kalleth turns his attention to the circle. The markings on the ground have been altered. He seemed to be thinking out loud. This symbol here is..well, was...a holy symbol. One of the Great Dragon's, I think, except that this little flourish here and that hook there completely change it. Makes it something...not so holy.

He snickers a bit at Lucca's question, still smiling when he hears the Bard remarking on how interesting the crystal was. Interesting indeed. I haven't seen that in...a while. That crystal could be useful to one of us, if we can harvest it from the relic. Probably only one of us, but still...it could be handy. He looks to the bard. I mean, to me it looks like Ioun crystal, isn't that what you think...uh...Bard? Kalleth begins muttering, a little history lesson to everyone BUT the bard. Named after a wiz...you people don't care who it's named after. Anyway, it does this funny orbit around your head and makes you smarter, to put it in layman's terms. I always found the spinning a bit distracting myself, which is why I favor the headband, but it's still useful as a colorful draconic word escapes his lips, then he trails off, another series of draconic curses slurring from his lips as he squints at the spot where the crystal had lain. Kalleth kneels digging a bit, exposing more shimmering metal and gingerly gripping what looks like a sword, attempting to pull it from the earth.

Well now that that's done, Lucca rolls the weirdly acidic tasting saliva in his mouth, spitting before continuing as I said, my scouting before this little encounter lead me to the entrance of some VERY promising looking ruins... he twists the crystal in his hands breaking it into several pieces, the thigh bone he slips into his bag and the chunk of crystal he curls his skinny elven fingers around, looking around to each person.



To the ruins then?

Picking himself up Veraun looks around. Well im glad youre all well and good. Some of us, wiping blood and dirt away from his clothes, would very much like to sit and rest for a measure. Veraun sits himself against the tree and leans his head back resting from his near death (stupid ugly dead lady) experience. Youre all welcome to continue on just dont expect me to move yet for at LEAST an hour. Veraun then casts a minor cantrip cleaning himself up a bit and straightening his hair.

DM Note: I had to hurry us along to at least this part- sorry for sort of shoe-horning your characters.
DM Note: Bard's speech has been changed to green because its easier for me to read. Deal with it.
DM Note: Vinny, specify in your next post what, if any, healing spells you use on the party during the rest.

An hour passes uneventfully. Bard is able to do some healing, Kalleth inspects the blade he found (an exquisite thing forged of solid mithril), Veraun regains his composure and meditates a bit while Lucca, the strange woman and Beleth round up some lunch consisting of swamp eel (not bad flavor, but a little salty) and mushrooms.

Once the necessary prep work is done the party strikes out into the deeper part of the swamp, Lucca guiding the way- the much rumored tiefling ruins warrant, if nothing else, a casual perusal.

Lucca

Spoiler:

As they proceed the trees grow more numerous and the water, thankfully, returns to only a knee-high depth. A half hour or so finds the group passing by the crumbling, weathered wreckage of a stone wall, the majority of it having sunk into the marsh uncounted years ago. They pass one slab of wall, laying flat on the ground, on which is carved the image of a clawed hand, clutching a burning world- one of the old standards of Bael Turath

“I heard some of the villagers speak about this region of the swamp,” says Bard, pushing aside a low hanging branch. “They say that this part of the swamp is one of particularly evil repute.”

As the group continues the hike, the bard continues to recall the details he had learned from the whispers of the superstitious townsfolk, pausing in his speech only when confronted by a heavy thicket or two. The trees begin to close in, their branches writhing into the sky, and here even the light of day seems to die.

“They say the tieflings who once inhabited this area were masters of black magic who twisted the flesh and scoured the soul. According to the tales they called up fiends and specters which chilled the blood and cowered the mighty. And yet, in just one night, they all vanished without a trace.”

An area of exceptionally deep water gives the group pause. Lucca’s body language suggests swimming it- an unimpressed look from Veraun and Kalleth (not eager to run into more eels) results in a detour.

“They claim there is a lake in this area, one un-glimpsed by the eyes of man, wherein dwells a mountainous white…thing with luminous eyes. It is supposedly nightmare itself, and to see it is to die.

“If the lake’s never been seen by mortal eyes, then how in the Hells do they know about it?”

“They say that it makes men dream, and so they know enough to keep away.

”Well isn’t that convenient.”

“And there are caverns, they say, which lead down into the lightless inner earth and that black-winged ones fly out at midnight to feast on life and worship their polypus god-thing in the lake. The flapping of their wings is said to drive those who hear mad and by gazing into a man’s eyes they take from him that which must never taken.”

”Your words are inspiring and confidence building, and I want you to know that I appreciate them,” said Kalleth sarcastically.

”You’re supposed to be a bard- don’t you know anything…lighter? More cheerful?

Bard thought for a moment and then with but a thought changed his staff into a ebony mandolin. He cleared his throat a bit and then began to sing.

”Pack up your troubles in your old kick bag and smile, SMILE, SMILE!”

A collective groan resonates through the party…

***

Another half hour passes before the party finally pushes through the last clump of trees and spies it- a tower of black metal, festooned with cruel-looking iron spikes, it’s top shaped in such a way that its parapets resembled flames- tiefling architecture through and through. Around it is scattered wreckage and the empty shells of stone buildings, and here and there one can see the tops of other towers or buildings sticking out of the muck- apparently most of the main structure has sunk into the swamp.

”Here it is, the Crown of De Sarth

”I am reminded of a tune I picked up in my travels through the Blightlands. Oooooooh-

Kalleth draws his blade and points it at Bard.

”Put the lute away before I take it away.”

Bard grumbles and returns the instrument to its staff form.

A cursory inspection discovers that the only way inside the tower is a jagged hole punched into the side which reveals a spiral staircase leading upwards a few feet before being blocked by metal wreckage, and downwards, which leads into darkness.

History DC 18

Spoiler:

History DC 24

Spoiler:

Kalleth pondered as he looked down the stairs into the darkness.

”Last time I went down spiral stairs leading into darkness I was attacked by fishmen and cultists of Dagon.

”You surface dwellers and your need for light. It’s a hole in the ground, nothing to it. Come on, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Veraun pushes past the reluctant warblade and descends into his natural environ. Lucca and Bard follow.

”…And if there was a pit filled with living acid I would probably get dragged down that hole too.”

He follows, keeping one hand on his sword.

Down, down into darkness absolute goes the party, guided by the darkvision of Veraun and the dim glow of a lantern. After what seems an eternity the stair case leads them to a 10 ft wide stone passage branching off to the side. The staircase actually continues on about 10 more feet- only to lead to a sudden drop into gulfs of blackness unknown. Apparently the staircase was destroyed beyond this point.

With a shrug they head down the side passage, walking for about 5 more minutes before, up ahead, they see something. By the lantern’s light they see a golden box…no, sarcophagus, about 8 ft long resting on the floor. The skeleton of a tiefling lies next to it, its left arm resting on the box as if protecting it, the right arm pointing to the opposite wall. There, etched into the stone is a simple message. “8:24:66-74”

All present are educated enough to know that the message is actually a notation used by scholars and bards to refer to passages from a famous work of literature known as the Arathanaea (pronounced like so: a-wrath-a-nigh-a), an epic poem on the founding of Bael Turath, written in 9 books.

History DC 8

Spoiler:

Arcana or History DC 14

Spoiler:

History DC 17

Spoiler:

History DC 20

Spoiler:

Arcana DC 22

Spoiler:

The passage continues about 10 ft more before turning sharply to the right. A dim blue glow emanates from somewhere down there.

Well... whos for opening the coffin of unspeakable regret? Veraun turns to the others, a sardonic smile on his face.

HISTORY: 28
HISTORY/ARCANA: 25
ARCANA: 23
Cure Moderate Wounds TARGET: VERAUN: 16 HP

The purple haired musician seems in good spirits as they travel through the swamp, though it must have been at least partially due to the fact that the giant heron he was riding kept the man from getting wet. His tales he told with a certain satisfaction or enjoyment that is hard to put to words for the others listening to him. They continue on, the bard's smile cheerful and unperturbed by the surroundings.

Ahh, Bael Turath and the Crown of De Sarth, he sighs with a grin. A macabre tale to say the least, the story of De Sarth.

Reaching the jagged hole, the heron utters another strangled cry. Bard pats the thing consolingly. Ah, tired are we? Go on then and get some rest. He says, dismounting and landing within the jagged hole. The Heron extends its wings once, and disappears.

Within the side passage, Bard cocks his head slightly and smiles. Unspeakable regret? he asks, stepping forward and tapping the sarcophagus with his staff. He lifts his head and sniffs, followed by smacking his lips. Unspeakable regret? Well, perhaps.

Bard begins to tap at the sarcophagus again, while humming to himself.


I have seen the seas wracked by wave
And felt the world, it burned
Yet who can say what stones may crave
When mortal eyes are turned

I have not seen rock used to slay
without the force of man
But if by chance you turn away
then just perhaps it can

HISTORY: 28
HISTORY/ARCANA: 23
ARCANA: 22

Kalleth spends most of the trek (that is, the part not devoted to the spouting of warnings of eldritch abominations which no one seemed interested in heeding) either threatening to dismember the bard, or cut out his vocal cords, or grumbling about being dragged into another distracting set of ruins, something he claimed repeatedly, Never goes well. He is once caught up in the catchy tune the bard had switched to, and himself started singing along in a deep bass. When he starts to harmonize with the bard and people start to notice, the sense of being watched causes Kalleth to stop, and he again threatens bodily injury to anyone who dares comment.

The infamous Crown de Sarth. Remind me how I get myself into this shit again? Kalleth mutters to himself as he shuffles blindly down the narrow staircase. He does not particularly like having to trust Veraun's darkvision to do his moving, regardless of how much he does or does not trust the drow.

When they come down to the sarcophagus Kalleth is intrigued. Ooh...the Arathanaea! That reminds me...I haven't had the opportunity to reread that in ages. Then, remembering the subject of Book 8 Kalleth notes, This is probably a warning. To tread carefully. Kalleth grins grimly at Veraun. I'm more for heading for the eerie blue glow in the distance. Then he grins as he hears the bard humming again, once again singing the verse along. First good thing you've sung all day, Bard. After a pause and looks from everyone he corrects himself. Well, second good thing.

Pressing Bard to the side, Lucca whips both scimitars, the action to quick to even cast a sound. We have no time for this! He kicks off the lid to the sarcophagus, ignoring the blood splats and "subject 5" carved on it. JUST as I'd heard...I'm surprised it was even true. Seems that measly 50 gold was well spent after all, thanks again random bar drunkard.

The figure in the sarcophagus seemed to still be asleep even with the torches light invading the resting place. The smell was almost too much to handle. Rotting flesh, and years of trapped smell of death...yet the figure didn't seem too decayed. Didn't seem very decayed at all. His clothes were still intact, the body still seeming to have skin and muscles.

Sheathing his blades, Lucca calls out Good evening....hello......... he looks to the others Maybe a magic slumber? looking back to the sarcophagus.

Kalleth drew his sword, eyes focused on the corpse as he found himself in the awkward position of trying to hold his sword properly and shield his nose from the smell at the same time. Or a mummy? Or a lich. Or any number of random *draconic curse word* undead things, he said in hushed agitation. He approached cautiously, eying the sarcophagus, looking for a royal seal or personal rune...anything to identify the not-nearly-rotten-enough corpse.

Looking to Kalleth, then to Bard and Veraun Looks more like a prison cell, mayhaps he was trapped in there.

Then looking to Kalleth's sword If this...man....humanoid...person here is to awake and see the blades out and at the ready, he may take them as a threat. It may be smarter if one or all of you prepare a spell in case he awakes agitated, and leave our blades at our sides.

Those inspecting the corpse and coffin cannot help but notice that, stamped into the covering of the box are the cryptic words "SUBJECT 5".

The figure only fills about 90% of the sarcophagus-at the foot of the box is a small compartment or drawer.

Those interested in the body...

Religion DC 17

Spoiler:

Anyone interested in the glow around the corner can see that the hall extends another 15 ft before coming to a series of glowing blue runes which run along the floor, up the walls and across the ceiling. Past the runes the hall continues into darkness.

Arcana DC 15 for anyone inspecting the runes

Spoiler:

Arcana DC 20

Spoiler:

Arcana DC 28

Spoiler:

Spot DC 24 for anyone peeking around the corner

Spoiler:

DM NOTE: WARNING! The optional dungeon beyond those runes uses a game mechanic I devised myself and has the potential to be LETHAL. As in TPK (total party kill) lethal. No quarter will be given, but the potential rewards are significant. I just thought I'd warn you as a fair DM.

Bard's attention soon turns from the dead body to the glowing blue runes further down the hall. Coming closer, he crouches to get a better look.

His eyebrows raise, but he doesn't say much concerning them, only humming to himself in slight comprehension. He stands, and turns back to the others.

Well, he murmurs, his voice slightly magnified by their surroundings, How would one go about waking the dead, if this one could awaken, that is. He doesn't look long dead, in any case.

RELIGION: 20
ARCANA: 25
SPOT: 10

I will not lower my weapon. I'd rather be prepared and have my actions interpreted incorrectly than get caught with my pants down by a hostile...anything. I will not fight if one is not provoked, but I will not be caught off my guard either. He examined the corpse weapon still as ready as he could make it and still be able to inspect the thing.

Subject 5? More like lab rat. The thought made him shudder. Gods only knew what kind of experiments this thing had been subject to, if it was indeed a test subject. He turned from the coffin, looking down the corridor to the blue glow...runes. Kalleth didn't recognize all of them. He noted the name Tatyana, a few glyphs to bar passage, but from here he couldn't make out the whole of the inscription to say exactly what the spell entailed. Seems like it should be easy enough to get down that hallway...just a simple word.

There is silence in the ruins, a stillness unnatural. And then, with a half-shrieking gasp, the black-clad figure in the coffin lurches upright. Its eyes glow with a faint light, its mouth gapes open...and a centuries worth of yawn ushers forth. It rubs its eyes, scratches its head, cracks its back, and climbs out of the sarcophagus, taking a seat on its edge.

It scans the party curiously, tilting its head to one side. Reactively Kalleth takes an offensive stance while Veraun's hands ignite with arcane fires.

"It's moving! Light 'em up!"

"Whoa, slow down!" interjects Lucca, standing between his comrades and the undead figure. "Give him a chance to talk.

"No, shoot him now! Shoot him now!" shouts the imp.

"You be quiet. They don't have to shoot you now."

"...I've heard this somewhere before.

No, no. The elf's right. Let's at least give the shambling abomination a chance to be slightly less abominable.

"Pussy."

"Speak, friend. Tell us who you are."

The undead man blinks a few times then answers.

Uuuuaa nnnuuaaggg thaathooomr

The party stares at the figure with a confused expression.

"Apparently centuries in silence have got your tongue."

"Try body language."

The revenant moves his arms around as he talks, making hand gestures and shrugs...if you're reading him right he was apparently once a swan who grew legs and then walked on the moon (?). No, that's not right.

His talking turns into more of unintelligable half-shouts (not unlike Bobcat Goldthwait) and less like groaning.

"He's not getting better. Can I shoot him now?

"I don't know. He seems harmless enough. Let's check out those runes a bit more and figure out our next move."

The party starts moving back down the hall when they notice the revenant following them, some what timidly.

"I think he wants to tag along."

"Ooh, ooh! Can we keep him? Pleeeease!

Kalleth and Veraun exchange looks.

"Hey, don't look at me- I still say we shoot him.

Kalleth puts his head in his hand.

"Do you want to join up with us, revenant? Can you take care of yourself?"

He nods in the affirmative twice.

"Then I don't have any objections if anyone else doesn't.

"You mean about letting a strange, centuries-old zombie that was locked in a box by tiefling sorcerers and who we can't understand follow us around and possibly murder us in the night? No, why would we mind that at all?"

The revenant clasps its hands together and does a low bow before ducking back around the corner and fetching from the compartment in its coffin two necklaces (one of which it puts into its pocket), a pair of gloves with arcane runes embroidered along the cuffs, and a sickle on a weighted chain which it affixes to the sash around its waist.

Great...a doom-spouting bard, a drow with a devil as its assistant, an elf with a fondness for lopping off heads, a strange spellcaster woman guarding the entrance, and now an undead ninja. How can we NOT be the good guys?"

"You should keep working on getting your voice back," says Lucca, patting the revenant on the back.

"Uuar ahh rraahg aaahhnr!"

"...Yeeeeaah, maybe you should give your voice box a chance to relax some more.

"Until you can speak again we need to give you a name.

Kalleth turned from the party, pulled out his sword, and knelt down on one knee in prayer.

"And by 'we' I mean 'me'. And by "need to" I mean 'already have'.

"Nine Gods, if you any of you would still hear my prayers, I beseech you now."

"Your name for the time being shall be Lawrence!"

"Watch over our party and lend us your strength and fortune. Guide us swiftly, and in safety. And if you cannot...

"Nnnua mmaal ngai!

"Excellent point, Lawrence! Couldn't agree more!"

"Please let me die first!"

DM NOTE: The time has come, party! If anyone has any information on those runes, the cryptic message, or in general that they want to share, now's the time to do it. Then choose which way you go, upwards to the safety and security of the sunlit world, or forward, into the yawning darkness wherein lies treasure!

And possible irrepairable death.

Party Status
Kalleth: 131/141
Veraun: 46/54; Levitate used; Wand: 49 charges left; 1 3rd level spell used
Lucca: 44/60
Bard: 80/80; Staff: 49 charges; 1 1st level spell used; 1 2nd level spell used
"Lawrence": 89/89

Summary of Treasure
Kalleth: 1 large pearl (1,000g), 1 healing crystal (20 HP)
Veraun: 3 gems (1,200g), 1 emerald broach (1,000g), 1 healing crystal (20 HP)
Lucca: 1 fang-shaped necklace (1,000g), 1 healing crystal (20 HP)
Bard: 1 healing crystal (20 HP)
Lawrence: --

Party Inventory: +1 Flaming Surge Crossbow, 2 alchemic flare stakes, a pair of Boots of Striding and Springing, a raven statuette (500g)

Well, Bard began cheerfully, grinning, This looks most ominous. Shall we go in? There's most definitely a story in there somewhere. Otherwise someone wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of renewing these wards and making sure anything that goes in can't come out.

As he spoke, his grin grew wider and became an almost full grown (and somewhat creepy) smile.

I do believe we still have business back at the grave, this adventure can most definitely wait as far as I'm concerned. The magic and the path it guards has been here this long, it will still be here later. Lucca rests his hands on the hilts of his twin blades and looks to the others for whatever thoughts they had to surface and be on our way.