New friends, unknown enemies

7th of Sage’s Vigil, Year of the Horde  

Today would turn out to have most unexpected results. We set out fully intending to seek out the kruthik hive-queen in its lair beneath the Abbey of Erathis, and fight it to the death (its death, that is—I’m none to fond of my death, and hope to postpone that particular meeting for many a year). Instead, we would find new friends—and new foes—in the dark sewers beneath cursed Phirul.

Our day started out routinely enough. After resting overnight in the cellar of Andy’s Armory, we trudged back to the sewer junction that would take us towards the Abbey. No sooner than we had reached the junction, however, when we came upon two other apparent survivors: a sword-bearing dragonkin, and a cloaked tiefling.

Viggo muttered at the latter under his breath, and put his hands to his sword grips. Bitter memories of tiefling raids against his people were always with him.

Hoping to make a rather better impression than a scowling Kuzian ranger, I stepped forward to greet the strangers. The dim flame of The Abzurian’s flickering torch lit our encounter.

“Hello!” I said, with a smile and a low bow, “I be Arnold Wurzel, and these be my friends… who be you, if I might be so bold as to enquire?”  The tiefling stopped, and smiled.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have. If there is one thing that a trading life on the barges teaches you, it is how to read a smile. This one didn’t reassure me. It was what my blessed mother used to call a “Demarakian spoon-merchants’ smile” —the sort you’ll see on itinerant flatware peddlers who will try to  sell you spoons with fantastic tales of their being forged in the very volcanic fires of Mount Rys… only to find that they wilt the first time they’re used in in a bowl of Polly Pepper Stew. Under my own cloak I palmed a spinnyblade, just in case.

The teifling continued. “I am Bidithal, and this is Zeer. We are sheltering a group of survivors… do you have any? How many of you are there?”

It was then that he noticed The Abzurian, and his smile slipped. “Why, its you…” he said with a dismissive sneer. Moments later, his attitude changed. Raising his hands, he uttered a dark invocation. Almost immediately, hideous putrid corpses began to rise from the fetid sewer waters around our feet. Hands began to claw at us.

The dragonkin by his side hissed, and pulled a large silver sword from the sheath across his back. He leapt forward to join the attack against us.

We drew our weapons. Battle was joined. The zombies, fortunately, we not the infected we had encountered so often in the city, but more of the common-or-garden sort (that is, if it is ever common to have zombies in one’s garden). However, the tiefling and dragonkin were formidable foes, what with the warlock’s deadly magicks and the warrior’s flashing blade.

At this point, both help and danger arrived from unexpected sources.

First, the small access door beside the warlock opened, and a blonde eladrin head poked through. Although the situation must have appeared chaotic—a motley band of heroes (that’s us, the heroes) fighting against undead and two foes in a dimly lit sewer beneath a zombie-infested city—she seemed to have a history with this particular tiefling. Moreover, it was not (as we would later learn) a very happy history. With little hesitation, she called a scorching burst onto Bidithal. She missed, but her fey wizardries were certainly a welcome addition to the fray.

The second source of unexpected help was preceded by a cry of “ahhhhhhhhhhh”, and the splashing sound of footsteps approaching us. A few seconds later, a frightened-looking human warlock rushed into the junction area to join us. While his arrival was welcome enough, the two large zombified dogs pursing him (grave hounds, Dirock later told me) were were decidedly not.

Fearing the warlock might not last long in the face of their snarling undead jaws, I rather uncharacteristically stepped forward to hold them back with my dagger. The hounds leapt at me, snapping at me with a bite that seemed to suck at my very life force. To my left, the warlock fell, only to be revived by Dirock’s healing word and by the power and grace of Kord. 

Wounded, I eventually I had to step back, leaving Dirock to hold them at bay alone while I threw spinnyblade after spinnyblade in their direction. The warlock assisted with his own arcane powers. One finally fell from our combined blows.

The battle was a chaotic one. The zombies were slain quickly enough, but the remaining hound was a formidable foe. The Zeer and Thor circled in furious combat, a clash punctuated with draconic hisses and dwarven taunts. The eladrin blinked across the chamber in pursuit of the tiefling. Viggo helped us all with bow and sword.

The Abzurian, as was his habit, cowered in a corner.

We had begun to gain the upper hand, when Bidithal once more summon a dark ally. Rather than another zombie this time, it was instead a foul demon that arose from the muck to assault Thor. The dwarf seemed to shrug it off, however. Instead he focused on mocking the dragonborn, blocking his opponent’s blows with his shield and striking hard with his hammer whenever he saw an opening. I slipped in behind the summoned creature, and hit it hard with a dazing blow. Before I could follow up, however, I hear a groan and a soggy spash. Glancing to my left, I saw our new eladrin friend slump to the floor, badly injured. Viggo stepped towards her, attempting to hold her head above the water with his foot as he continued to loose arrows at our opponents.

Faster than a paladin fleeing a buxom barmaid, I dodged away from the demon, and ran to her aid. Taking the blue flask from my belt pouch, I administered the magical draught. A few long seconds later, her eyes begin to open. Aunt Petunia’s absent advice be praised—it indeed had been a good idea to pocket this potion!

She quickly leapt to her feet, and renewed her attacks against Bidithal. These, coupled with a few ranger arrows and a spinnyblade of my own, finally brought the warlock down.

Dirock and the human warlock, in the meantime, slew the second grave hound. Finally Thor finished off Zeer and the demon.

We had survived.

With the battle now over, our new acquaintances introduced themselves. The eladrin was named Kiira. She spoke little of her past, but did explain her hatred of Bidithal and Zeer. The two, it seems, and lured her into a trap, caged her, and used her life essence to power incantations of some sort. The Abzurian added more to the tale, noting (somewhat belatedly, as is another one of his habits) that he had been paid by Bithdal some weeks ago to teach him the ritual that hid one from the notice of the undead. It seems as if these two might have some part in the zombie infection that had afflicted the city.

The human was Noctuz, a warlock from southern Festung. Despite Viggo’s understandable interest at the mention of his homeland, he seemed even more secretive about his background. In his account, he had hidden in a warehouse of sorts when the plague struck. Unfortunately, the infected had eventually gained entrance, killing the other survivors that were sheltering with him. While the zombies eventually wandered back out of the building,  his refuge had later come under assault from grave hounds. Noctuz had taken flight into the sewers with the abominations close at his heels, and encountered us shortly thereafter.

As our two new companions told us of how they had come to be in this place, I searched the bodies. There was much of use: a magical cloak, and enchanted sword and javelin, two more healing potions, and a fine dagger. The latter was, by my appraisal, a magicked duelist’s dagger, and as we shared these items among ourselves I took it for my own. In honour of my aunt’s sage advice, I nicknamed it “Petunia.”

We also found a medallion of the City Watch, marked with the name of  one “Captain Vimes.” Clearly it belonged properly to neither of our dead foes, and it only increased our suspicions that they had been involved in some darker conspiracy.

Noctuz also mentioned two items that piqued our interest in the warehouse where he had been. First, he had found there a large cage, marked with the sigil of the Legion of Frontiersman. Second, he had also seen a strongbox marked with the royal seal of Phirul.

By this point, I couldn’t care less about the Legion, but the strongbox seemed a possibly profitable diversion. Moreover, the warehouse might contain additional supplies that the survivors could use. Since it was only a hundred or two paces further down that sewer branch, it seemed worth exploring.

We eventually came to the end of the passage, and found a small shaft in the ceiling leading upwards. Viggo climbed up first, then attached a rope for the rest of us to follow.

As Noctuz had earlier described, we found ourselves in large wooden building, filled with crates of all sizes and shapes. Light streamed in from windows set high in the walls. A metal cat-walk crisscrossed the room above our heads.

We soon found the cage with the Legion’s mark. It was now empty, with a faint trail of slime leading from its battered door to the shaft. Thor peered at it a moment, and pronounced it the trail of a carrion crawler—likely the one we had fought in the sewers a few days earlier. Perhaps it had been imported by the Legion as a trial of sorts for recruits to test themselves against? We did not know.

We had little chance to puzzle this out, or indeed to find the strongbox. Suddenly the light from the windows darkened, and a booming voiced called out from above, mocking us with its dark and sinister tone.

“Like flies into the waiting spider’s web, you have fallen into my trap! Now you will all die….” At this, several zombies rose up from among the boxes, as did a couple of evil-looking men and another of those fearsome grave hounds. Above us, a black-robed necromancer could be seen, cackling atop the catwalk as he commanded his evil hench-things below.

The scene brought to mind immediately the climatic final confrontation between Edgar Stoat and the Dark Lord Krzylzanthradorfar in Edgar Stoat and the Danger-filled Chamber of Many Levels. With this in mind, I sought to emulate Edgar’s famous leap, and darted up the crates before my companions or our foes could react. Reaching the catwalk, I drew my newfound magical weapon with a flourish. “Taste petunia, foul invoker of rotty dead things!” I shouted, thrusting the dagger at my startled foe.

“Rotty dead things,” was not, of course, my finest rhetorical moment. More to the point, I had clearly yet to acquire Edgar Stoat’s skill with a blade. I missed the necromancer entirely. As if to compound my folly, a large winged zombie chose this moment to descend from the rafters, and lay into me with its remarkably sharp claws. Looking at the blood seeping from my side, I elected to return to my usual pattern of behaviour. With an uncerimonious “erm… excuse me..” I flung myself sidewards off the catwalk, caught it with one hand as falling, and swung myself into a much safer position nestled beneath it amid  the cover provided by several large crates. In future, I would leave brazen confrontation with the enemy to Thoradrin.

Glancing down into the warehouse below, I saw my companions locked in combat. The grave hound had knocked Kiira down, but she quickly teleported to a safer location. Noctuz had climbed upon several boxes, where he was hurling curses and other incantations at the flying creature that had wounded me. Dirock was calling Kord’s wrath upon our foes. The redoubtable Viggo was rapidly ranging among the crates, slaying what foes he could find with bow and sword. From my relatively secure perch, I threw spinnyblades where I could best assist.

One by one, our foes fell, until only the necromancer survived. Viggo ran to one set of stairs, and raced up them. I leapt from box to box again, until I too was at the catwalk. Thor rushed to the other end of the warehouse, planning to cut off his escape. It proved an unnecessary precaution, for our opponent was soon felled by blasts of arcane energy from our spellcasters, tumbling with a scream into a pile of boxes below.

Paying little heed to the blood dripping from my side, I quickly ran to loot the fallen body. After all, there was a reputation to be maintained, wound or no wound!

On the necromancer we found a few more items of value–and yet another of the medallions of the City Watch. This one bore the name of a “Sergeant Knobbs.” Clearly this evildoer was also linked to the dark conspiracy we had stumbled across. But how, and to what purpose? Had they infiltrated the Watch, or simply slain some of its members? And, most important of all, had they caused the zombie plague, or merely benefited from it? As formidable as our foes had been, they didn’t seem powerful enough to have afflicted a city and destroyed Spellstorm College. This last thought sent a chill down my spine: we were likely to find even more dangerous opponents as we continued our explorations above and below.

There was little more we could do to solve that mystery now, however. Instead, we secured the warehouse and searched it. The lockbox was quickly found, but defied my picks a good quarter hour before I finally opened it. Two dozen and three silver bars lay within–quite a prize, although its value was diminished by the relative absence of any surviving shopkeepers or tavern-owners to spend it with. Nevertheless, we took a bar each, for good luck. (I took several others for my young nieces and nephews, since a fondness for “good luck” is a Wurzel family trait.) 

We gathered up some grain and tools for the survivors, and descended once more into the sewers below. After dropping off these supplies at the Golden Gryphon, we took the remainder of the silver bars to Andy’s Armoury for safe keeping. There we would rest our battered bodies, postponing the expedition to the Abbey for another day.

Bring out yer dead…

31st Sunrise – 3rd Sage’s Vigil, Year of the Horde

Having now spend a little over a week in the legendary city of Phirul, I can now definitively report: the place is highly overrated. The guards are lax, its drovers rude, the supposedly mighty wizards of Spellstorm College unremarkable, and its streets are literally crawling with hordes of slavering, infected zombie denizens of the doom—the latter point being one that is rarely, if ever, mentioned at in any of the guidebooks. Indeed, it says something of my disappointment in this, the city of my boyhood dreams, that the high-point of my trip so far has been crawling around the sewers.

It all started off normally enough. Once Viggo and I had resolved the issue of the goats, we took a table in the Golden Gryphon to await contact from the Legion of Frontiersmen. There were a half dozen would-be adventurers there, but few seemed the sort one would really want guarding your back in a fight. Two did, however, stand out: Thoradrin “Thor” Mightstone, a Dwarven fighter resplendent in his fierce red beard, shining armour, and tatooed head; and Dirock Thunderson, a stern-looking human cleric of Kord. Most of the rest seemed the very same sort one used to see around the Dancing Trollope in Wigglesthwiate on a Saturday night—full of bluster, with their bravery boasted of in direct proportion to ale consumed, and inverse to the nearness of any actual danger.

Sadly, my theory was soon confirmed when an ill-kept man with wild eyes and pallid flesh burst in, and attacked one of the patrons–not with weapons or fist, but by ripping her throat out with her teeth. “Welcome to Phirul” indeed! Most of our table companions fled, screaming like a troupe of elderly eladrin swan-dancers beset by a mushroom-crazed band of kobold cultist feather-pluckers (if you’ve ever seen that, as I have, you’ll know just what I mean).

Not so Thor and Dirock, however. They immediately drew their weapons and advanced to confront the assailant. As I heard Big Viggo drawing his bow behind me, I swept Little Viggo into my pocket, leapt over several tables, and cut at the crazed man with my dagger, dazing him. Seconds later, two arrows flew across the room, embedding themselves in his rather putrid torso.

It appeared as if everything was under control.

Had I remembered the bloody opera scene in Edgar Stoat and the Infected Slavering Zombies from Hell, of course, I would have been far more prepared for what came next. The creature’s victim—whom we had all presumed dead—rose herself as an animated corpse, and attacked Thor. Screaming could be heard in the kitchen, and in the streets. Dark shapes began hammering on the windows of the Golden Gryphon, attempting to smash their way inside.

With the streets of the city now clearly overrun by zombies, the proprietor of the inn shouted to his panicked patrons to flee for the relative safety of the upper rooms. As they did so, we four held off the ever-growing waves of attackers, with no fewer than four falling to my blade or bullet. Finally, Viggo made a last dash to retrieve his bow (dropped earlier when he took up his swords), and we retreated up the stairs.

On the second floor we found thirty or so survivors, including one unfortunate woman who had become bitten and infected in the fight. She, sadly, succumbed to the mysterious plague, and was precipitously dispatched by Thor with his hammer. With both Thor and Dirock having themselves been bitten in the fray downstairs, this seemed an ominous portent indeed.

We had little time to consider it, however, for despite blockages of furniture placed in the stairs and against the doors, the undead continued to batter and claw their way towards us. Viggo, bless his Kuzian soul, found a trapdoor leading the the tavern’s roof–and, with only a few moments to spare, we relocated ourselves and the surviving patrons to that new, safer, location.

Around us, the city was in tumult: screams, groans, and crashes could be heard echoing everywhere. In the cobbled streets below we could see mobs of the foul creatures lurching, hunting, and killing. Fires could be seen burning in  various districts, apparently out of control. By night, the sounds had began to die down, but for no reason that might be seen as positive. Rather, the city itself was dying, succumbing to the plague—with very few of its citizens now still alive.

Of the famed wizards of Phirul, or its mighty garrisons and military forces we saw no evidence at all. Our efforts to signal others by torch brought not a single response. 

Our new location seemed safe enough, in a physical sense, but there were now one-score-and-ten terrified for survivors in our care, in need of reassurance and provision—one speck of civilization marooned in a hostile sea of those who would destroy the world.

I slept only fitfully that first night, until I was awoken in the morning by Viggo shouting excitedly from the edge of the roof. I drew my sling, and rushed to see. There, trotting down the road were Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr. While apparently unmolested by the zombies, they had drawn the attention of a hungry, ragged-looking dog. Viggo shouted at them to move faster, and loosed a couple of arrows at the dog to dissuade it from its hunt. As they turned a corner, we lost sight of them–although hopefully the absence of any bleating meant that the two young kids remained unharmed.

Over the next several days, Viggo scouted the area, and gathered supplies for our small band of survivors. We were aided in doing so by an elderly (and, I must say, annoyingly vague) dragonkin seer, who had mastered a ritual that could render a subject invisible to the undead for a few brief minutes.

These minutes proved all to brief when Viggo and I decided to scout out a nearby city well, in the hopes that it led to the fabled underground river said to flow beneath Phirul. Getting there was easy enough, with the aid of the ritual enchantment. So too was clambering down to the bottom (where, unfortunately, we found an iron grate blocking any hope of escape). Getting back to the Golden Gryphon would prove rather more of a challenge, however. At first, I tried emulating the shambling gait of the zombies as Viggo looked on, concealed, from the well. I had hoped that our foes would not notice me. While my performance seemed convincing enough to me, however, it seems I was as obvious to them as a river troll in red frilly dress in the beauty pageant at the Gurtvale County Fair. Within moment, a half dozen of the foul creatures had started towards me.

I immediately ran to a nearby timber-framed building, where I clambered up to a second story window, entered, and threw myself under a bed. There I huddled for a while, until I was able to signal my ranger friend that I was alright. He ran to the same building, and quickly climbed to the roof, where—after we slew the zombie in our way—I joined him.

It was at this point, I had a flash of brilliance. Given my limited climbing skills, I proposed that Vigo descend, climb to the next roof, and throw me a line and grapple. I would then hand-over-hand along the rope to join him, a skill that I had honed in clear weather and foul atop the rigging of the Laughing Skua.

I remember Uncle Burford once saying, as he blew smoke rings aboard his barge The Pelican’s Wisdom, “what’s easy is not when when what’s not isn’t easy.” If ever there was a situation to which that applied, it was now: I was scarcely six feet across the alley—a horde of hungry, gesticulating abominations beneath me—when I grew over confident, missed my hand-hold, and plummeted towards the ground. My efforts to grasp at the rope as I fell were stymied by the wetness and slipperiness it had acquired in the well. With a thump, I fell to the ground, face to face with three groaning harbingers of doom.

My rescue came unexpectedly, and was apparently owes much to the many happy seasons Viggo spent hooking fat speckled Snorgoldingen salmon at Skopjar Fall in his native Kuz Valley. With a flick of his wrist, he snapped the rope-line, and impaled the grappling hook into my shoulder. He then started to pull me up, as the zombies sought to claw me back down.

Happily for me, they missed—although the pain from the iron hook in my shoulder was excruciating. Reunited on the rooftop, we continued our journey–this time, me much mindful of Uncle Burford’s sage advice, and paying far more attention to the tasks at hand. Finally we arrived safely once more at the Golden Gryphon.

There we found that while Dirock’s condition had improved—indeed, with the strength of Kord he had fought off the zombie infection—our companion Thoridrin was faring less well. He indeed looked most unlike himself: pallid, frothing, his proud beard matted with dirt and sweat, muttering something fevered and  incomprehensible about a woman called Hilda and her mighty twin mattocks. I think we all feared that Thor might go the way of that young woman a few days earlier.

Aided by some medicinal mushrooms Viggo discovered growing by the chimney, Dirock used his healing skills on the poor dwarven fighter. It was, he later admitted, a very close-run thing. In the end, however, Thoridrin pulled through—and our impromptu band was once more whole.

Our failure to find an exit from the city through the water supply led us to try instead the sewer system. Viggo scouted this, and reported that it was indeed passable (although small in places for the big-folk), deep (and hence unlikely to attract attention from the streets above), and, best of all, seemingly free of the undead.

And so it was resolved that the four of us, together with the seer, would explore the tunnels to see where they might lead. The survivors were clearly fearful that we might never return, but we did our best to reassure them on this score—leaving Jeffrey, the innkeeper, in charge during our absence.

And so it was that we descended beneath the city, uncertain of what we might find…