Shadowdark in the Lost City - Session 2
Our characters for this session included:
Belit, Human, Fighter, 1st Level
Dagon, Human, Thief, 1st Level
Samira, Elf, Thief, 1st Level
Uras, Human, Priest, 1st Level
Zippo, Human, Wizard, 1st Level
Tossing the empty waterskin to the floor, Belit stooped to inspect the dead orc. Looking at the creature’s blackened and swollen arm, they saw the stump of something. Dagon joined the warrior and unsheathed a dagger. The rogue put metal to decaying flesh and it parted like rancid butter. Covering their nose, Belit stood up, hand on the pommel of their sword. Digging in the flesh, Dagon pulled out what looked to be a larger serrated stinger. The rest of the group looked on with curiosity and disgust.
Not sure what to make of the stinger but feeling more wary, Samira and Dagon moved to listen at the stone door on the east wall. Hearing nothing, the thieves made way for Belit, sword now in hand, and the door was pulled open. Buzzing filled the air and quickly the mystery was solved - honey bees the size of small dogs drifted through a space transformed into a hive. Gelatinous hexagon-shaped chambers covered the ceiling and walls of this room and a shaft of light showed through a crack in the south wall. In the center of the floor sat a large metal chest.
Zippo quickly came to Belit’s side, mumbling incantations and gesticulating. The hive shimmered ever so slightly and the bees fell from the air. They lay on the floor, wings and legs twitching as they slept. Even those within the chambers of the hive fell fast asleep (the wizard rolled a nat 20 on their Sleep spell). The party wasted no time dispatching the large insects.
As most of the party moved toward the chest, Zippo studied the hive. The wizard noticed that several chambers were sealed with a layer of bee’s wax but that a liquid lay within. Piercing the wax with their dagger, the scent of honey hit their nose and the mage’s mouth began to water. Pulling forth a glob of sticky honey, Zippo began to feast, a pleasant warmth spreading through their torso. Finding no signs of a trap, the chest was opened and found to be filled with coins, gems, and jewelry.
For the next many minutes, the party split their time loading packs with loot and themselves with honey. The coinage was ancient and bore the likeness of some monarch lost to the eons. The thieves moved to listen at two twin stone doors on the east wall. Samira’s elvish ears twitched ... was that someone talking? Dagon heard nothing at the other door.
Forming up with Belit and Uras in the forward rank, the door beyond which the voices were heard was opened. Soft voices hushed as the party’s light shone into a square room in which sat three double bunk beds. Five humanoids shifted to look toward the open door - each of their faces concealed behind bronze masks of a stern-faced, bearded man. Four of the five sat on bottom bunks while the fifth stood facing the others. The standing figure took a step back from the party, hand drifting to the hilt of a strange looking sword at their hip. The others quickly gained their feet, peering from between the bunks while shielding their eyes. All five figures were dressed in identical blue tunics over which they wore bronze mail.
Taking their bronze kopesh sword in hand, the forward figure pointed to the party and spoke in an unfamiliar language. The rest of the group spread out across the room, one stepped to a door in the north wall and pounded on it. Belit spoke back and raised an open hand while holding their sword at the ready in the other. Uras noted that the bronze masks bore the same visage as that of one of the statues atop the pyramid. The party also saw that where skin was visible, these humanoids were pale and bluish tinged and what hair could be seen from beneath their bronze helmets was bone white.
The door opened and a tall figure stepped through. Dressed in bronze cuirass armor over a blue tunic, this one also bore the bronze mask but donned an ornate helm. Empty handed, this figure spoke to their comrades and two departed through an eastern door. Turning to the party, the figure spoke, their voice calm, with a tone of command but still undecipherable. Seeing that they didn’t understand, the figure stepped back to make space while gesturing for the party to enter the room. The adventurers cautiously filed in, staying in defensive positions. They could see faint light through the north door and other individuals watching, hands on weapons.
Again the tall humanoid spoke, this time seeming to point to Zippo, and gesturing toward the lightning bolt medallion the wizard had found and now wore. A brief flicker of understanding lit in the wizard’s mind as he thought he recognized a phrase ... and then another word yet further stoked a memory. While Zippo had heard it spoken only in bits by scholars, the mage had learned to read this language during their apprenticeship (Zippo finally beat the INT DC to grasp the language). Speaking perhaps only to themselves, Zippo muttered, “That’s the dead language of ancient Cynidicea ... how can that be?” Uras piped up, “Madness ... Cynidicea disappeared hundreds of years ago ...” The priest’s words trailed off as his mind worked to make sense of an impossibility.
Through broken phases, gesturing and body language, Uras and Zippo tried to explain how the party had come to be in the pyramid. The tall figure listened intently, shook his head, and said, “You lie, strangers ... the world beyond these walls is no more. It was overrun with demons ... consumed in hellfire when the gods turned their eyes from us ... now there is only the black nightmare of Zargon.” The priest and wizard exchanged puzzled expressions. Uras, who also had a basic knowledge of the Cynidicean language from his liturgical studies, grasped his holy symbol and intoned a prayer to Marduk for guidance.
The warrior’s hand went instinctively to the lightning medallion about his neck. “You call upon the sky father but what is this Marduk of which you speak? Enlil reigns supreme in the heavens as sky tempest and law-giver.” Perceiving both an opportunity as well as a risk, Uras tried to explain that Enlil, Ishtar, and Nabu had been but earlier manifestations of Marduk who is the all-father. The tall figure stiffened, hand shifting to the hilt of his kopesh sword, “I am weary of lies and deceit .. now you blaspheme the gods.” Sensing the growing tension, Zippo cast their eyes about the other masked individuals. Through the doorway, they saw that one leaned heavily on the shoulder of a companion, their leg wrapped in a stained bandage.
Catching Uras’ eye, Zippo motioned to the wounded figure. Uras cast the die and motioned to the individual, “Bring to me your wounded and you will see that what I say is true.” The figure hobbled through the doorway. Uras unwrapped the bandage, revealing a ghastly human-like bite wound. “Attacked by one of the eaters of the dead in the tombs,” the tall warrior spoke. Grasping his holy symbol and speaking the healing prayer, Uras placed his hand upon the torn flesh. The wounded warrior trembled and then was still as Uras removed his hand ... restored, healthy flesh beneath. The warrior gasped at his leg in astonishment and cried aloud, “I am healed, by Enlil, I am healed!” (Uras rolled a nat 20!). The warrior took Uras’ hands in theirs and exclaimed in a trembling voice, “They speak the truth! The gods are with them!” The group of masked figures erupted in chatter and exaltations to Enlil.
Water was brought to the party and they were asked to take rest as the followers of Enlil withdrew in council. After many minutes, the tall armored warrior reappeared. They closed the door behind them, leaving them alone with the party. “I am Ardates, Grand Master of Enlil, and though I know not how it can be, I thank you for ... healing our brother.” Scanning the party, Ardates asked who was their leader. Zippo translated and the party exchanged uncertain glances ... leader? They had been focused on survival these last many days and the thought had never occurred. Eventually eyes settled on Belit and the warrior shrugged uncomfortably, “I suppose that would be me though I don’t know your tongue.”
With Zippo and Uras translating, Ardates bluntly stated that the party was surrounded by warriors. Ardates asked that Belit retell the party’s story of how they came to be here and what they intended. The tall warrior stood quietly as Uras translated Belit’s words, his masked eyes fixed on Belit. Several tense moments of silence passed after Belit finished the tale, with Ardates’ gaze unbroken. Suddenly the tall figure blew out a deep breath, seeming to relax, “I believe you ... or at the least I believe you believe what you say is the truth no matter how seemingly impossible.” From that point forward, the mood shifted. The adjoining door opened and with a few exchanged words, the followers of Enlil filtered in and extended thanks and welcome to the adventurers.
The party was given food, drank their fill of fresh, cool water, and rested over the next few hours. The adventurers also spoke at length with Ardates who shared the tale of the Cynidicea’s fall. The warrior spoke of Cyrus the Great and the raising of the pyramid in their reign. After the deaths of King Cyrus and Queen Zakiti came factional strife and deeper excavations beneath the pyramid. Workers tunneled into a ruined, ancient temple, where the nightmare god Zargon was imprisoned. The beast stalked pyramid and street alike, claiming victims until the city’s leaders chose to appease it with sacrifices. Zargon retreated to its lair to await its regular offerings of flesh.
What began as a secret cult devoted to Zargon eventually rivaled worship of Enlil, Ishtar, and Nabu. The city slowly descended into a fever dream of hedonism and sloth. The city fell into disrepair, the canal system failed, and crops withered. Finally, in disgust, the gods turned their eyes from Cynidicea’s wickedness. Demons and fire overran the walls, the dead filled the streets as the living fled for their lives, sealing themselves in the great pyramid. For generations the Cynidiceans have lived within the waking nightmare of Zargon under the brutal rule of his priesthood in a city deep within the earth. Only small secret groups hold onto the threads of sanity in hopes of regaining the favor of the gods.
The party also learned that cults devoted to Ishtar and Nabu held similar refuges within the upper tiers of the pyramid. There is little trust among them as each has betrayed the others when necessary to protect their own. However, alone none of them have the numbers to oppose Darius, high priest of Zargon, and his hobgoblin mercenaries. Perhaps the factions could set aside their differences if they had something to rally around ... a symbol from the golden age of Cynidicea. One such relic would be the sword of Cyrus the Great rumored to be buried with him in the royal tombs. But the dead are restless, having been disturbed by the great evil which has befallen their once great city. In their disgrace, no Cynidicean would dare deem themselves worthy of setting foot within the royal tombs let alone taking up such treasures.
Ardates invited the party to remain within the Enlilities enclave while they considered their path forward. The followers of Enlil exchanged their bronze masks for others of differing makes - depicting animals or twisted humanoid faces - and replaced their mail and blue tunics with colorful robes before departing for the subterranean city. Before leaving, Ardates approached the adventurers, saying that they were welcome to keep the wealth they had looted if they would aid the Cynidiceans. With that, the party was left alone.
No one was in a rush to venture back out into the burning sands of the desert now that they had shelter, food, and drink. After some deliberation, the party decided to explore the pyramid further and in the process, put Ardate’s wild tale to the test. Rather than explore the next lowest tier said by Ardates to be the location of enclaves held by the followers of Nabu and Ishtar, the party readied themselves to head into the tombs.
Returning to the previously discovered stairs, the party spiraled downward. Ardates said the stairs leading to the tombs were no more than 100 feet ahead and to the left. If they moved quickly and quietly, they would likely avoid any notice from the other cults. Sure enough, the next set of stairs were there as promised and the party quietly descended. The stairs opened upon a dark hallway extending both left and right with another passage nearly straight across. The party turned left with Samira and Dagon taking point.
The two thieves peered down yet another pitch black corridor connecting from the right and then continued straight. The passage made a left turn followed by another left fifty feet ahead. Shortly thereafter, they came to a door set in the right wall. The thieves found no signs of traps or other dangers and the door was pulled open. The walls of this room were covered in murals depicting scenes of spycraft, assassination, and thievery. In its center was a gem-encrusted bronze sarcophagus set on a waist high stone platform. The gems blazed in the light of the lantern - sapphires, rubies, emeralds.
The party fanned out across the room with Samira maintaining a lookout in the doorway. Uras and Zippo studied the murals while Dagon and Belit approached the sarcophagus. The warrior's eyes were fixed on the dazzling jewels while the thief quickly took note of four elaborate locking mechanisms on the bronze surface. Instinctively, Dagon pulled out their lock picks and began sizing up the challenge - which looked to be considerable. Uras mentioned to the group that surely this must be the tomb of King Cyrus’ spymaster.
Setting to work, Dagon was surprised when the first lock quickly clicked and popped open. The thief moved to the next and began to test the mechanism. At the doorway, Samira heard what the echo of muffled weeping. Another few moments passed and the sharp eyes of the elf picked out a dim blue glow as the weeping grew louder. At that same moment, another lock yielded to Dagon’s skill (or maybe luck?). Samira put the group on notice and Uras joined the elf at the door as the pale blue began to coalesce into an ethereal form. The weeping escalated into a wailing as the spectral visage of a woman dressed in a beautiful gown with a crown upon her head bore down on the two adventurers. Uras held forth the medallion of Marduk and rebuked the spirit with all his presence ... yet it came on, seemingly unaffected.
Uras and Samira closed the door, eyes wide with fear as the air around them became as cold as the grave. Dagon, as if in a trance, continued to work and yet another lock opened, leaving just one. The elf and priest released their collective breath as the sounds of the spirit began to recede along with the unnatural cold. Uras cracked the door to see the blue glow disappear around a corner and grow ever fainter. Minutes passed and beads of sweat formed on Dagon’s forehead as the final lock resisted their efforts. But at last, it too gave way and fell open (some amazing rolls were made here!). Expecting the sarcophagus to open and spill forth treasure, the thief saw instead a small hidden panel in the stone base open. Within was a velvet pouch which Dagon found contained a set of finely crafted thieves tools and a most intriguing dagger. The bronze hilted dagger had a board blade formed from a fossilized serrated shark’s tooth.
Belit mentioned the many gemstones waiting to be pried loose but the rest of the party counseled leaving them be, at least for now. Instead, the group left the spymaster’s tomb and headed right. They passed a connecting passage to their left but maintained their course for at least another 100 feet where they came to another door in the right wall. Approaching the door, Dagon stiffened as they felt a hidden pressure plate depress beneath their boot. There was a crashing sound from ahead in the darkness and the noise of stone grinding on stone. Dust and loose sand fell from the ceiling and the floor quaked as an enormous rolling ball of stone filling the entire corridor came into view!
Acting purely on instinct the party split, with Belit, Uras, and Samira sprinting away from certain death back the way the party had come. Dagon pulled at the stone door in front of them only to find it locked. Zippo, wearing a look of horror, glanced in all directions, not sure what to do. With only a split moment to act, Dagon tried to pick the lock and it opened (using a luck token). The thief and wizard fell into the room as the boulder rumbled by. The rest of the party was suddenly thrown into darkness as Zippo held their only light source. The boulder picked up speed as it rolled down the gradual slope of the hallway. With the floor bucking beneath their feet and feeling for the wall in the darkness, Samira’s hand found the corner of a connecting hallway and ducked around it. The elf pulled Belit and Uras to safety with only seconds to spare.
Panting heavily in the darkness, the three companions heard a tremendous crash as yet more dust and debris settled from the ceiling. Picking themselves up, Zippo righted the lantern which lay on its side. Dagon noted that they were in another tomb. A wooden coffin gnawed through with many large holes sat on a stone platform. Red beady eyes suddenly appeared from within and before the thief could raise an alarm, giant rats boiled out. Zippo reacted quickly, words of magic on their lips as jets of blue flame from their fingertips engulfed the coffin. Burning rats scattered across the room, tearing through the two adventurers in their panic. Dagon slashed with the shark tooth dagger, gutting one of the smoking rodents while another bit deeply into their leg. Zippo backpedaled, flailing as the rats tore past, one biting the wizard in the process. Dagon swooned and toppled to the floor as the lantern ran out of oil, the room lit only by cracking blue flames from the burning coffin. The rats fled out the door and down the corridor (luckily not toward the other three adventurers).
