LoDS Session 1

Rumours of Rhax & Roon: Legend of Doom Scroll Session 1: Actual Play

The travellers assembled at the rim of the Koth Basin, final stop on their journey to the city of Irrilion. Across the basin an ancient megastructure could be seen, cut into the chalky limestone of the cliffs. Locals say it is an ancient Necropolis, a cursed place but filled with treasures.

               Eager to enter the city as rich men rather than penniless vagrants, the travellers choose to investigate. They enter the structure by an old wooden bridge, a series of fallen bastions appear deserted. Stone steps lead down to black water of the basin, a huge bronze door bound in great chains and iron bars that must lead deeper into the structure. The door is adorned by the stylised forms of skeletons dancing within a black flame. While investigating a dilapidated barge tied to the dock, the party disturb a pair of hideous giant lamprey. Even as the blind beasts rear from the still waters they are slain by a flurry of blows. Search of the barge reveals a casket containing trinkets of gold and silver. Their appetites wetted the travellers push on through a door to the east.

               Creeping stealthy, the halfling Greenlow finds a large chamber filled with an eerie, droning roar, a sound like an ill wind singing a song of ancient lament in a dead language. Three bodies lie in the centre of the chamber, two are heavily decayed, one less so, but more hideous, its once human face a rictus grin of distended lips, filthy fangs, blood black eyes rolling in their sockets. The bodies twitch, but do not rise. Greenlow moves away, overcome by superstitious dread. He explores further, carefully opening a door to the north. He sees three humans, rough men of the road, framed in a circle of torch light, their swords drawn and pointed at a sturdy door. The brigands notice not the halfling, so intent are they on a door to the east.

               Greenlow returns and reports his finding. Edric and Ardwell take the lead. The Northmen Clerics inspect the bodies and adjudge them abomination. After much learned discussion, they determine to call on their respective deities, Thor and Tyr, to vanquish the evil. Much oath-making and brandishing of talismans ensues but to no avail. The gods of storm and sword turning their backs on such lowly supplicants.

               The warriors Vendric and Zigfried take matters into their own hands, putting the corpses to the sword. Even as their blades bite the undead begin to rise and claw at the travellers. With grim determination the warriors strike them down. The mysterious droning continues, and our heroes muster to attack the chamber containing the three men.

               Suddenly, they hear a distant clanking to the west, fearing a pincer attack, the party rush towards this new threat. The great bronze and black flame door is seen to slide up into its casement, seemingly unbidden by the hand of man. Behind the door is no great chamber, only a narrow passage hewn into the living rock. The party view this development with the upmost suspicion. Once more the halfling Greenlow, an expendable abhuman, is dispatched to investigate. The twisting passage ends in a stone panel in a hinged iron bracket, perhaps the inner workings of a secret door?

               The party crouch in readiness, expecting an attack from any quarter. Such is their procrastination that two lizard men appear from the surface of the lake and rush to attack. As the two sides clash the spears of the reptiloids strike first, but the superior tactics of man are two much for the primitive minds of the saurians, and they fall beneath before the steel rain. The glittering, green scaled bodies yield nothing of value.

               The band suspect that they have been the victims of a ruse and rush back to the chamber containing the three men. They make a grand entrance only to find the men have gone. Gnashing their teeth in rage at this deception the party investigate the door the men were guarding. Within they find an emaciated young man in a gaudy robe. The waif flourishes a wand in their faces and advises them that he is none other than Amdor the Magnificent, a mighty wizard. When asked what he is doing here Amdor states that he is engaged in arcane endeavours beyond the ken of mortal men. When the party menaces him with drawn swords, Amdor issues terrible threats. He vows to turn the travellers into toads and then summon larger toads to devour them. The party scoff at these claims, but Amdor persists, vowing to disintegrate them and scatter their ashes across the astral and ethereal planes. Once more the party scoffs and taunts, suggesting that Amdor is either a lunatic or a charlatan. Seeing his opportunity, the crafty elf Dvalinn plunges his dagger into the wastrels back. They watch the strange fellow die, choking on his own blood. They discuss the morality of Dvalinn’s act but come to general agreement that Amdor brought his fate upon himself. The wise clerics concur, and, with their consciences clear, the party loot the little chamber recovering a rusted but serviceable suit of chainmail. They also discover a pair of levers they believe control the mighty door.

               Returning to the rampart docks, the party detect the three brigands, now with an elven archer engaged in deep conversation at the entrance to the structure. Dvalinn steals up to them, and from a position of concealment amid the rubble, casts a sleep spell. The brigands fall to slumber, but the elf resists the dwemour. It is no matter, even as he notches an arrow, the elf falls to a flurry of shafts loosed by the party. The brigands are bound, robbed and then awakened by rude slaps. The party interrogate the hapless  men. They are treasure hunters like themselves and beg to be taken into service. The party refuses, disgusted by their craven ways. The men are provided with meagre weapons and sent on their way, with a strict warning never to return. Before they depart the brigands advise the party that the witch Odo and her minions have taken up residence within the necropolis.

               The travellers resume their delvings. Greenlow explores a chamber to the south. He attempts subtlety but is discovered by a band of goblins, lead by blue-faced hobgoblin. The quick thinking Greenlow rushes from the chamber leading the cackling humanoids into an ambush. Greenlow’s iron clad allies close on the goblins and the fighters Vendric and Zigfried dispatch them in a red orgy of bloodletting. The hobgoblin chief awaits them in his chamber, shouting oaths to his bestial god. The fighters enter and, though the hob fights with the zeal of many men, he eventually falls to grimly determined sons of man. A search of the chamber reveals an Amethyst of excellent size and clarity.

               Tired of slaughter and cognizant of the coming of night, the travellers retire to their camp to lick their wounds and tell tall tales of past valour.     

Players:

Vendric (F2) and Ardwell (Cl2)

Greenlow (hfF1,T2) and Zigfried (F2)

Edric (Cl2) and Dvalinn (elMu1,T1)