Iron & Gold
This is “Death House” (the adventure in an appendix of Curse of Strahd for D&D 5E) converted to Iron & Gold (from Precis Intermedia Games). I like Iron & Gold better than Dungeons & Dragons and I think there is less dice rolling. It’s also point-based character creation, which suits me better. Because I like my characters and that might have influenced my conversions, call it “Death House Lite.”
After the “Ironwood Gorge” adventure, I ran another free adventure with the same characters (I don't think I’ve posted it). I will post monster conversions at some future date.
Anyway, here are Felewin, Ninefingers, Hrelgi, and Uthrilir making their way through the death house. The characters:
- Felewin, a human third son of a small-time king, who wants to be a knight but they don’t have knights in his land, so he is traveling; in the course of his adventures, he captured Ninefingers, a goblin, believing him responsible for a crime
- Ninefingers, a goblin who used to work as a tomb robber (this fact is important for the story); he believes that he owes Felewin his life, so he is culturally obliged to stay with and help Felewin
- Hrelgi, an elven wizard who was hounded out of her small village where they are trying to live without magic; Hrelgi has gaps in her knowledge of magic, but is devoted to Uthrilir
- Uthrilir, a dwarven paladin or cleric who is attempting to destroy a cursed relic that he’s carrying around (a ring, in fact); Uthrilir is exceedingly font of Hrelgi and the two of them had adventures together before they met Felewin and Ninefingers in the “Ironwood Gorge” adventure
If I think about it, Felewin and Ninefingers have probably known each other for five or six eventful months, and Hrelgi and Uthrilir joined them less than a month ago.
If you;ve never read one of my solo plays, (a) how did you get here and (b) game mechanics are in endnotes.
I decided to do all of Curse of Strahd and you’ll get to see it here.
1 — The Mists
Felewin got out of his tent, into the fog…and stopped. The ground was slick from the mist and he was worried about how they would determine which direction to travel,[1] but then…then he saw that the trees were wrong. They had camped among the sparse trees of the midlands: almost all of the trees were deciduous trees of some kind, but these were conifers. Firs and pine, it looked like. Mountain trees.
He ducked back in the tent and motioned for Ninefingers to be silent, wriggled into his gambeson and new mail, and grabbed his sword. Then he grabbed his shield and went to the tent that Hrelgi had gone into. Normally she slept in a tree, but when (and where) they had gone to sleep, there were no trees suitable for climbing. He hissed, then stuck his head near the door. “Bad magic. Things are wrong. I need you, but be quiet.”
She asked, “Uthy?”
“Getting him next.”
The dwarf was already clambering out of his tent. He stretched and then held still. He broke the pause, looked around, nodded at Felewin, and crawled back into his tent to get his weapons.
Ninefingers, in full armor, was breaking down their tent. In the time it had taken Felewin to get Hrelgi, he had managed to empty the tent and roll the bedrolls.
Hrelgi said, “Did we sleep a hundred years? Those trees weren’t there yesterday but they’re a century old.”
“I think we moved,” said Felewin.
“That would take a most puissant mage,” she said.
“How puissant?”
“We all moved. To create a rend in space that gets all of us and can scoop us like barley in a cup is more powerful than any wizard I’ve ever heard of. I only know enough of that magic to have an idea that it’s impossibly difficult.”
“Could it be Uthrilir’s cursed relic?”
“Why now? I’ve traveled with Uthrilir for months and it never showed any consciousness. It makes Uthy crazed sometimes, but this isn’t just the relic’s style.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Ninefingers came over. “We disturbed something about the relic. It’s active now. I need your help folding.”
2 - To Protect the Innocent
Without information, it was pointless to speculate about the cause or reason for their sudden arrival here (wherever “here” was). They noticed that the fog became thicker if they walked in some directions and thinner in others, so they went in the clearer direction. Felewin noted that it herded them. At one point, Felewin decided to challenge the fog, and walked into the thickest part of it,[2] but it was like being defenseless and hit by sticks; eventually, he had to go in the “correct” direction and rejoin the others, or be knocked unconscious.
The sky was overcast and cloudy. The day was bright enough, but at no point did it become sunny; they heard animals rustling and moving around, but muted. Birds occasionally chirped but none actually gave song. Perhaps it was the wrong time of year for that or perhaps there were no songbirds.
The mists led them to a gravel road, threadbare in spots. It was obvious which way they were to travel, so they did. Felewin was keeping track of the probable sun, and they traveled along the road a little more than a half of the sky’s width. However, because they had not arrived at dawn but later, now dusk was approaching.
“A village,” said Hrelgi.
“I don’t recognize the architecture,” said Uthrilir.
“Nor do I,” said Felewin. “A lot of wood, though. Wooden roofs, wooden walls. Some stone foundations.”
“Cellars,” said Ninefingers. “That usually means cellars or basements.” He looked behind. “Fog seems to want us to go there, but it’s getting closer.”
They picked up their pace.
The town was in sad shape. Most of the buildings were sealed up, though some betrayed inhabitants by lit cracks in the doors and windows. Some of the buildings were not sealed up but were clearly abandoned. All of them had deep scratch marks on the outside, all less than Felewin’s height.
They did not spot an open inn or an open store, though they found several that were closed.
Ninefingers asked, “Nightfall? Are they afraid of the night?”
“Maybe. If that fog moves in, we don’t want to be in it.”
Hrelgi asked, “Would our tents keep it out?”
Felewin shrugged. “Don’t know..”
Uthrilir said, “I’d trust our tents more than some of those buildings. Look for a flat lot where we can set up our tents.”
Instead they saw a pair of children, a girl (maybe ten) and a boy (maybe seven), whimpering and snuffling, standing on the road in front of a house. The boy was clutching a stuffed doll and weeping.
Felewin headed for them. “What’s wrong?”
The girl spoke. “There’s a monster. In our house.” She pointed to a tall brick row house. Like everything else in the town, it had clearly seen better days. The windows were dark but they were there and not boarded up.
Uthrilir said, “Your parents—”
“We hear the howls,” said the boy. “I think our parents keep the monster trapped in our cellar.”
“But if it’s trapped,” said Uthrilir reasonably, “then it won’t harm you.”
“We’re scared,” said the girl.
“We’re worried about our brother Walter, the baby.”
Felewin asked, “He’s still in the house?”
“In the nursery. On the…” The girl counted. “Floor with the balcony.” There were four floors.
The houses on either side were clearly abandoned, with the windows and doors boarded up.
Ninefingers looked back at the mist. “The fog is closing in.”
“We won’t go back in while the monster is there,” said the girl.
Hrelgi said, “What’s your name? Names, both of you?”
The girl blinked. “Rosavalda. Everyone calls me Rose.”
“Thorn,” said the boy. “Thornboldt to my mother when she’s mad.”
“We’ll get your brother out. Will you wait in the house?”
The girl shook her head and the boy huddled against her.
Ninefingers said, “Fog closing in. We’ve got to get them and us safe.”
Felewin looked at the neighbouring houses. Maybe he could rip the boards off the doors and get everyone in one of those houses, but the mists were close and rolling fast. “Would you wait in the outer hall, like by the…” He didn’t know the name for the room in this architecture. “Just inside. Out of the fog. You wouldn’t have to go any farther.”
The girl, Rose, took the boy’s hand. “Maybe.”[3]
Hrelgi took Rose’s other hand. “Then let’s go.” As she led them to the rusty gate, she asked, “Where are your parents?”
“I don’t know,” said the girl. “Their names are Gustav and Elisabeth.” She was horrified by a sudden thought. “Maybe the monster got them!”
Ninefingers pressed them forward. “Fog! Let’s go!”
“Who told you about the monster?” Uthrilir asked.
They stopped as Felewin opened the gate for them. The hinges squealed. Ninefingers raised an eyebrow.
“Our parents,” said Thorn.
“So we wouldn’t go in the cellar,” said Rose.
“I see,” said Uthrilir.
Ninefingers pushed them all into the portico, and then surveyed the mists. He said, “We need to get inside.”
“Children, you must come in,” said Felewin. “The fog—”
Ninefingers opened the door. The foyer inside was immaculate.[4]
“We’re not going in,” said Rose.
“The fog is our friend,” said Thorn.
“Don’t worry about them,” said Ninefingers. “We have to get out of the fog.”
Felewin grabbed Thorn and carried him over the threshold….where the boy disappeared.
“Magic,” said Ninefingers simply. “If the mists are as deadly as you said, we have to stay inside. There isn’t time to break into one of the neighbouring buildings.” The group scurried inside.
“Very good magic,” said Hrelgi, flexing her fingers where she had been holding on to Rose.
Ninefingers nodded. “I suspected something when I saw the inside of the foyer. It’s spotless. A person wouldn’t keep a house like this and let the gate get all rusty. So there’s something up.”
Hanging on the one wall of the foyer was a shield emblazoned with a stylized golden windmill on a red field, obviously a coat of arms. It was flanked by framed portraits of stony-faced aristocrats. Mahogany-framed double doors set with panes of stained glass exited the foyer. The floor was wooden, and a lit lamp hung from the ceiling.
Hrelgi said, “What if we refuse to play? What if we sit here for the night?”
Uthrilir said, “I suspect the monster comes looking for us.”
Ninefingers nodded. “Probably. Do you mind treating this whole thing as if it were a trapped tomb? I have experience with those.”
Felewin was rubbing his hands as if that could erase the feeling of Thorn disappearing. “Go ahead.”
“The general idea is attrition. Things early on are meant to make us use up our resources; no matter how well-equipped we are to start, the house is trapped to wear us down so we never get to the final thing—in a tomb, it’s a treasure but here it’s probably some kind of monster.”
“If what the children said means anything,” said Felewin.
“Well, something wants us,” said Ninefingers. “The mists herded us here, the illusions of children were to bait us. I’m guessing we’re supposed to get to the third floor, where the supposed baby is.”
Hrelgi said, “Wait a moment,” and she cast a spell.[5] When she finished, she said, “The whole house is magic. The whole house is the monster.”
Felewin turned and tried to open the door. It was locked.
“Then I guess we go forward.” He looked at Ninefingers. “Think we can outwit it?”
The goblin shrugged. “Parts of it, certainly. The whole thing? Maybe, maybe not.”
Uthrilir said, “If it’s trying to wear us down, what about heading to the third floor as fast as we can? Then we’re fresh to fight…whatever.”
“In tombs we generally prefer caution to speed.” Ninefingers thought for a moment.[6] “It can’t eat us right away or it would have. So the house provides an environment for whatever-it-is. What we’ll miss are clues, if there are any. But the house can apparently clean itself—we don’t see any evidence of other people. So it probably eliminates clues. Let’s do it.”
“Uthrilir,” said Felewin, “I haven’t healed at all from the fog. Can the Lady do anything in this realm?”
Uthrilir said, “I can ask.[7]” He laid hands on Felewin and prayed; Felewin felt lighter and not so tired.
“It worked,” Felewin told him.
Uthrilir smiled grimly. “Wherever we are, the Lady can still find us.”
Ninefingers stood by the door. “We go in, read the room’s sign, and then move. Take cues from me.”
“Of course,” said Felewin.
Ninefingers shook his head. “Ready?”
They burst into a wide hall, with a black marble fireplace at the near end and a sweeping red marble staircase at the other. The wood-panelled walls decoratively sculpted and ran up the walls.
They could see at least three doors on the opposite side and maybe there was another down a hallway; there was one door to another room on the same side as they stood.
“Panelling might shoot something, but run up the stairs!” cried Ninefingers.
They ran for the stairs. Felewin was the last, predictably, and Ninefingers thought for a moment that he should stay behind with Felewin…but they also needed him to assess the next floor. So he ran harder.
Ninefingers glanced at the second floor. Suits of armor flanked doors, and he immediately thought one of them would be animated…but if they weren’t going onto that floor, they should be safe. He could feel a cold breeze coming down from the upper floor and he kept an eye out for some kind of opening. That was only the third of four floors…but for all he knew, the roof was entirely absent to make room for the, oh, roc to land.
Uthrilir was right behind him; Hrelgi was next, and Felewin was last. Uthrilir was letting him go first, for which he was grateful. The staircase ended at the next floor…and so did the illusion of cleanliness. The balcony was dusty and abandoned. Ninefingers stopped before setting foot on the floor.
Rather than chandeliers, the balcony could be lit by oil lamps fastened to the walls, but the lamps weren’t on. There was a suit of armor ahead, cobwebbed to the wall. To the left were two doors; to the right, a double door and a niche that might hold another door. The wooden panels still decorated the walls: these held woodland scenes.[8] The scenes were not just trees and falling leaves and small woodland creatures: the trees held tiny corpses hanging and worms were bursting forth from the ground.
Ninefingers drew the long pole arm he was still carrying. “The dust might indicate that the floor isn’t sound. Uthrilir, could you use this like a pole and check the flooring as you walk along?”
The dwarf took the pole arm and slowly started tapping the floorboards with the butt, holding it backwards. Felewin finally made it to the top of the stairs behind them, just as the suit of armor lifted its sword with a clatter and swung at Uthrilir[9]…but missed.
Uthrilir moved away and the armor followed noisily; Ninefingers drew his sword; Felewin had already drawn his[10] and charged forward to hit the suit of armor. Ninefingers said to Hrelgi, “It’s magically animated, so if you can disrupt that, we might have a chance.”
Hrelgi started flipping pages in her grimoire.
The suit of armor had switched to Felewin, and swung its sword.[11] Felewin managed to parry that one.
Ninefingers hit but couldn’t penetrate the shield and armor; Uthrilir couldn’t manage to flip the pole arm around in time; and Felewin hit again but did no damage.
Hrelgi cast a spell…and the armor looked looser, less joined.[12] It was still moving, though.[13]
Felewin took advantage of the moment to swing again.[14] His swing slid off the shield, taking a bite out of the leather on it, and hit the armor harmlessly. The armor swung at Felewin[15] and missed.
Uthrilir had the pole arm around[16] and stabbed at the armor, connecting solidly. It wasn’t enough to stop the thing but it slowed it a little. Frustrated, Hrelgi tried the same spell again.[17] This time the armor flew into pieces with a loud bang and scattered across the floor, coming to rest against walls and the balustrade.
“Well, that was exciting,” said Felewin. “Good work, Hrelgi. That was a very nice shot, Uthrilir. Ninefingers, thank you.” He walked to one door. “Mind if I try it?”
“Not yet,” said Ninefingers. “Now we go slow. I saw something odd about the wall.”[18]
“I don’t see anything,” said Uthrilir.
“Design in the wood…look at the trees. But I didn’t mean that, anyway.” He strode over to the wall and looked at the seam between a panel and its border.[19] He pressed one of the carven images. A section popped ajar. “Secret door.” He looked around. “Goes up.”
“The children said something about a baby on the third floor, so presumably the house wants us on this level. We should check it out,” said Felewin.
“But Ninefingers’ idea is that’s what it wants,” said Hrelgi.
Uthrilir shook his head. “Going up farther doesn’t seem like it gets us closer to the basement.”
“Attrition,” said Ninefingers. “We have to go through things that wear us down. Remember that this building isn’t designed for living, it’s designed for killing.”
Felewin asked, “So is the secret passage up meant to make us think we’re avoiding something and we meet something worse or does it really let us pass by things?”
“Magic is powerful but it’s not smart,” said Hrelgi. “If a person designed it there might be double-think like that involved but if it’s the remnant of evil…” She waved her arms. “If this whole place is evil, even, then it’s not that smart.”
“Assume there are cultists,” said Ninefingers. “Worshippers. They have to be able to get around. The bathtub doesn’t need to work but there has to be a way to get around.”
“If the whole place is evil, there doesn’t have to be any way to avoid dangers,” said Uthrilir. “So let’s take the stairs.”
They looked at Felewin. He said, “Ninefingers, you’re the expert on traps; Uthrilir, you’re the expert on the powers below. And Hrelgi, you know more about magic than I ever will. Stairs it is.” He moved to the stairs, but Ninefingers stopped him. “You can’t see in the dark. Hrelgi needs the lantern. You’ll be behind me, then Hrelgi, then Uthrilir.”
Felewin nodded.
They proceeded up the dusty, cobwebbed stairs. Unlike the other areas, the walls and steps were plain. Ninefingers waited for everyone to be near the top, but whispered, “Uthrilir, Hrelgi — duck down in case some attack hits the whole area.”
They crouched; Ninefingers pushed open the door.
Nothing happened. Ninefingers went first and then said, “Come up.”
The hallway was dusty and again filled with cobwebs in the corners, but it had been usable space at one time. There were no statues. Uthrilir could see four other doors, then turned around: five doors. One clearly led outside to a small balcony; another had a padlock; the others to bedrooms or store rooms.
Ninefingers went straight to the padlocked door and pulled on some soft leather gloves. “We’ll try here first, because someone clearly doesn’t want us going in. Good quality padlock but I don’t recognize the mark of the maker. To be expected, I suppose.”
He pulled out his lockpicks and set to work. He tried a few experimental probes and said, “Very good quality. This will be a moment.”[20]
“Don’t you check for traps or poison needles or something?” Hrelgi asked.
“Already looked. No hole for a poison needle; I’m wearing gloves so contact poison seems unlikely. Not attached to the wall by a wire or string. Seems like it’s just a very…good…lock.” He gave a final grunt of satisfaction and pulled the padlock open. He unhooked it from the hasp and set it aside. “Ready?”
He put away his picks, took off the gloves, and pulled open the door, sword in his other hand.
The room was a playroom. Close to the door was a chest painted with windmills, like the crest in the foyer. A pace from it was a dollhouse that looked identical to the building they were in. Beyond them were two small skeletons in familiar clothing.
The smaller one was clutching a doll.
Hrelgi said, “Rose and Thorn.”
“The real Rose and Thorn, I presume,” said Felewin. “The clothes are much more tattered.”
“Don’t touch anything yet,” warned Ninefingers.
“I should grant them rest,” said Uthrilir. “Proper rest.”
“Don’t touch anything yet. We don’t know what’s trapped and what isn’t.” He finished examining the room without finding anything else.
Ninefingers knelt before the chest and carefully examined it.[21] “That seems safe,” he muttered before turning to look at the dollhouse. Eventually, he said, “Both safe to open, I think.”
Hrelgi opened the chest, which was full of stuffed animals and wooden toys. Uthrilir said, “Don’t move.”
“How can I tell what the problem is if I can’t move?”
“Thorn,” said Uthrilir. “We know you’re an illusion.”
Thorn shrunk behind Rose. “We’re not illusions,” she said. “We’re dead.”
“Ghosts?” Rose nodded. Ninefingers said, “She nodded. You can turn around, Hrelgi. Rose, how did you die?”’
Rose said sadly, “Our parents locked us in to protect us from the monster. They never came back.”
From behind Rose, Thorn said, “The monster got them.”
Uthrilir said, “What happens if we burn down the house?”
“It grows back. Lots of people have tried that,” said Rose.
Ninefingers said, “There’s some other condition. Maybe in the cellar. Rose, how do we get to the cellar?”
She pointed at the dollhouse. “There’s a secret door in the attic.”
Ninefingers looked at the dollhouse.[22] “It shows the secret door on the third floor. And here’s the one in the attic.” He lifted the dollhouse and when he did so, the ghosts got agitated.
Rose snapped, “Don’t touch that!”
Ninefingers put it down. “Apologies, young ones.” He turned to the others. “It doesn’t show the cellar.”
“You can’t go down there!” Rose said. “You’ll die!”
“We’ll die if we stay here,” Felewin pointed out. “No food or water, and by tomorrow we will be out of water.”
“You can’t leave us!” insisted Rose.
“We won’t leave you,” said Felewin. He removed his bedroll from his pack and unfurled it, then carefully lifted Rose’s skeleton onto it, and began rolling it up again. “You’ll be with me.”
“But…”
“You can appear any time you want, right?”
“But the monster…”
“You’re a ghost. It can’t kill you.”
“I…”
Hrelgi took her bedroll and gathered Thorn’s skeleton. “Me too. I’ll take care of Thorn.”
“And maybe,” said Felewin, “we’ll find a wholesome place for you to rest.[23]”
Felewin felt an itching in his mind, but he shrugged it off and Rose disappeared. Thorn also disappeared.
Ninefingers said, “Let’s memorize the floor plan and have something to eat.”
It was a sombre picnic they had, there in the playroom. “Uthrilir, can you grant them final rest?”
The dwarf shook his head. “Not here. In a real grave, yes, but not in a place that regrows if you burn it to the ground.”
“True, that.” He brushed crumbs off his lap and stood up. “It feels like mid-afternoon to me. Are you ready for a late night?”
“Do we have a choice?”
“I suppose we could stay here overnight, but I don’t know what the building will do.”
Uthrilir took the last bit of his food. “Then I guess we should be about it. A brief prayer?”
“Always,” said Ninefingers.
3 - Into the Dungeon
The spiral staircase to the cellar was dark and laden with cobwebs. Ninefingers, in the lead, used the polearm held in front of him to gather the webs and make it easier for Felewin and the rest. The stairway was narrow and without handholds; Ninefingers worried that Felewin would slip and carry the two of them down to the bottom, but it did not happen. Hrelgi was good about shining the light. Behind him, without the cobwebs, it was clear but Ninefingers could see only a pace or two ahead.
Finally, after more than four storeys, they reached the bottom. There was no door; the stairway emptied to a corridor that intersected another in a T[24]. “Left or right?” asked Ninefingers.
“Left,” said Uthrilir from the back. Felewin shrugged. The ghosts did not reappear to give them guidance.
They went left.
There was a passage off to the right; Ninefingers stole down it. In the darkness and silence, they could hear an eerie chant but couldn’t make out the words. “Ghosts? Or someone alive?” Hrelgi asked.
“Could be something undying. Vampires or ghouls,” said Felewin.
Ninefingers came back. “I found crypts,” he said. “Two of them. One empty and one for someone named Walter but it was never used.”
“Didn’t the illusion children say the name Walter? For the baby?”
Hrelgi said, “They did.”
“Then these are family crypts.”
“Well, duh, under the house,” said Ninefingers.
“But if Walter was a baby and they had one prepared for him,” began Felewin.
“There must be crypts for Rose and Thorn!” said Uthrilir.
“No other crypts in this direction. Uthrilir, do you want to check in the other direction?” The earthen corridors were wide enough for two to walk abreast or even fight, but it was easier to have Uthrilir look.
“I will.” He disappeared, though not stealthily. The atmosphere was oppressive; the dampness pushed in on them, and the smell of earth and decay was always present. The odors were mixed, and they never settled into one smell they could ignore; there was always a new mix.
And the chanting continued.
Uthrilir returned. “I found them, but the crypts are sealed. Felewin, you and I can easily move the sealing stones.”
“Yes,” agreed Felewin.”I’d like to know what is buried where Rose should be.”
They did move the stones, though not as quietly as Ninefingers would have liked, and found the crypts actually empty. They placed each skeleton gently in its casket, and then asked Uthrilir to perform the rituals of passing on.
When they were finished, Felewin said experimentally, “Rose?”
Nothing happened.
“I hope that brings them rest,” said Felewin.
“We’ll know soon enough,” said Ninefingers. He said to Uthrilir, “Still want to go left?”
“Might as well.” Uthrilir grinned. “Good to be back underground. Did you notice the floor of this thing?[25] Footprints. Centuries of footprints. Relatively few of them wearing shoes.”
“The children were wearing shoes.”
“So normal people wear shoes here. But monsters probably don’t.”
Ninefingers thought about that for a moment. “Humanoid monsters mostly. Ghouls, zombies, that kind of thing?”
“Probably not zombies. We haven’t seen anyone to guide them. But I expect ghouls, skinbags, ghasts, specters, vampires, maybe werewolves, and everything you find in an underground crypt. Maybe some puddings.”
Ninefingers said slowly, “Medusae?”
“It’s not a temple, so I doubt it. I would suspect instead a carcass scavenger or a grick.”
“Good. I hate medusae.”
Felewin guided Hrelgi over to them. “We should go. I’m expecting a long night. Let’s mark a trail, though — that empty crypt could be a sleeping spot if we need to hole up.”
“If we can get back to it,” said Ninefingers.
They went left, even though there was a room to the right. (Ninefingers peeked into it. Looked like a dining hall: long table with benches, multiple entrances. Ninefingers noted them in case they couldn’t find what they wanted.)
In the original direction, they ran into a room with a table and four pallets. The walls had alcoves with cots in them, covered in mold. “I wouldn’t touch those with someone else’s hands,” said Hrelgi. “Was that straw once?”
“Maybe,” said Felewin. “We can pass through here.”
The next room had four small alcoves off the sides, and in the center was a well. A bucket and rope sat at the top of the well; the rope ran through a pulley on the ceiling.
“If there’s water, that bucket wouldn’t hold any,” said Felewin. “Wood’s gone dry.” He thought a moment. “I wouldn’t try sitting on any of the furniture.”
“Thank you for the warning,” said Ninefingers. “The rope’s not worth saving.”
“I agree. Sleeping quarters?”
“I thought the last room was sleeping quarters,” said Hrelgi.
“Maybe this one is for people of higher status. Look, they’ve got doors.” Uthrilir poked his head in one room. “And chests.”
Ninefingers said, “We’ll open one to figure out what the contents are like. Felewin, you pick one.”
“I wish the chanting would stop.”[26] He pointed. “That one. The other walls with rooms have two rooms; that has only one. Might be more important.”
“Not exactly a growing religion,” said Uthrilir. “I counted four pallets in the previous room, five cells here. Usually religions are organized in a pyramid fashion, with more at the base. Doesn’t seem to be the case here.”
“I think we’ll find they don’t adhere to much in the way of good practice,” said Felewin.
Ninefingers put on his gloves and checked the bed first. It had nothing but bugs. Then he checked the chest. The padlock was the same as the children’s room.[27] This time Ninefingers popped it fast, and opened the chest. It held a change of clothes, a box, and a leather eyepatch. The box had a simple latch, and inside they found some parchment, two pens, an ink bottle, a blob of wax, some small knives, and half a dozen white goose feathers. Felewin took the eyepatch, then frowned.
He rubbed the patch between two fingers and then pried it open. There was a reddish-brown stone inside. He gave it to Ninefingers. “I presume that’s valuable, or why hide it? But I have no idea what it is, and you like gems.”
“I like backup plans, and money is a backup plan,” said Ninefingers.
Uthrilir said, “It’s sard. Some people use them in brooches.”
Hrelgi added, “No magical properties.”
“Given the size and shape, I’d pay maybe the same as a healing potion.” Ninefingers tucked the gem in his pouch. “I’d sell it for ten times that, of course.”
“It’s not worth opening the others. We’ve got a time limit.”
“Agreed.” Ninefingers poked his head in several openings and finally pointed to one exit. “This one. It branches. Hrelgi, you choose this time. Straight ahead or to the right?”[28]
“Straight,” she said promptly.
They had to go down a short flight of stairs to a landing that lead off to the path right, but they went up again and found themselves in the hall that Ninefingers had seen earlier. This time Ninefingers noticed bones on the floor: long humanoid bones. The “monster” in the basement might have been a cannibal cult.[29]
He refrained from mentioning this. Skeletons and zombies were fine, but cannibals cut a bit too close to the bone, so to speak: there were records of humans eating goblins.
“Dining hall,” he said simply. “We’ve been to the left. Across the way looks like an alcove for a larder or something; down there to the right might be the door.” He led them single file to the doorway and cautiously peeked in. It looked safe.[30]
Except…
In low tones, he said, “Uthrilir, you also see in the dark. Everything else has footprints but this dirt here and…” He looked around. “There doesn’t. How can you walk from this obvious spot to that obvious spot without leaving footprints?”
“You can’t,” murmured the dwarf. “Trap?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m tougher than you are,” Uthrilir said, and stepped to the intersection of two untrodden patches.
Ghouls erupted from dirt. Two were nearby and Uthrilir could see more from other patches of earth. He said, “Ghouls, at least three!”[31]
He managed to hit the one facing him, and Ninefingers stepped in and faced the one approaching from the left corridor. That ghoul, which had been a woman, lunged for him. Ninefingers swept the sword across and slashed open its belly. Felewin loosed the bolt in his crossbow and managed to avoid both Uthrilir and Ninefingers; his bolt lodged in the ghoul facing Uthrilir, and the ghoul collapsed. There was, however, another ghoul behind it.[32] Its claw scraped against Uthrilir’s armor but didn’t get the dwarf’s skin.
Another ghoul came up behind the one facing Ninefingers, but couldn’t get past it at first.
Hrelgi cast one of her memorized spells, granting Uthrilir a degree of armour he did not normally have.[33]
Uthrilir struck the new ghoul[34].
Ninefingers managed to finish the first ghoul he faced, but the other ghoul stepped up immediately.[35] It swung at him, but Ninefingers was too short; it missed. Felewin was re-cocking the crossbow.[36]
Ninefingers[37] drove his sword up to the ghoul’s belly; the ghoul could not reach him for the sword.
Felewin managed another shot, and Uthrilir’s second ghoul fell dead.
Hrelgi cast the spell she had found, and slammed the remaining ghoul against the supporting column of the tunnel.[38] Ninefingers cut off its head, and it was no more.
They stood for a moment, listening for additional monsters coming for them. There was no sound, but the chanting seemed slightly louder here.
Ninefingers wiped his sword clean on the tattered clothes of the dead ghoul. “Felewin, your turn. Left, straight, or right?” he asked.[39]
“Left, I suppose. The chanting sounds louder to the right, but I’d hate to have something come from behind.”
“Like a ghoul, perhaps?” asked Uthrilir.
“Like a ghoul,” agreed Felewin.
The next room was decorated, if that is the word, with moldy skeletons that hung from rusty shackles against the clay walls. Most skeletons were against the wall directly to their right, though there were some immediately ahead on that wall.
The far side of the room was dominated by a wide alcove that held a painted wooden statue of a gaunt, pale-faced man wearing a voluminous black cloak, his pale left hand resting on the head of a wolf that stood next to him. In his right hand, he held a smoky-gray crystal orb.
There was a passageway far to the right.
Ninefingers said, “Stay in a defensible group right here. I’ll search. The statue might move if we trigger it. The skeletons…no, the skeletons are shackled in place. The statue is the big thing.”
Felewin said, “Loading up in case. Hrelgi, can you pan across the room?”
“Sure.”
Ninefingers started with the wall nearest them.[40] “Huh,” he said. “I’ll check the rest of the room, but I’ll bet there’s a concealed door right there.”
He kept his distance from the statue and checked the rest of the room, including the other exit. “Stay away from the statue; Hrelgi, if you’ll watch the statue while we try and figure out that door? Finding the door might trigger the statue. (To be clear, I do not want to trigger the statue.)”
“I will watch it and remember the tree it used to be.”
“Sure.”
Ninefingers started pressing his hands against various places in the clay of the wall. He scooped away clay to reveal the base of a door. Finally, he said, “Felewin, I need some height here. Could you do the top?”
Felewin said, “Certainly,” and locked the crossbow. With his help, they quickly had the door unveiled. It looked like an ordinary door.
“Statue is still being statue-like,” said Hrelgi.
“Keep watching.” Ninefingers slipped on his gloves and pulled. It was stuck.
Felewin said, “Can I help?” Ninefingers agreed, and they both pulled…yanking the door to pieces.
Felewin took a moment to hit the remaining pieces to the floor.
Behind the door was a stone staircase. Ninefingers bounded up it and it ended at a landing. A rusty chain dangled from the ceiling, and Ninefingers could make out the square and hinges.
He went back down. “Trapdoor. Pull on it, it opens. Probably some part of the house we didn’t go into.”
“Good fast exit,” said Felewin. “Come with me; we’re going to make sure it works.”
The door fell down and opened into some kind of…den, maybe. Ninefingers said, “I would have done that but I’m not tall enough.”
“I know you would have. It’s an exit of sorts,” he said as they went down the stairs.
“Except that we come out in a place we don’t know.”
“At least we’re not near ghouls. You take what you can get,” Uthrilir said.
Ninefingers said, “Avoid the statue, and let’s go down to the other exit.”
That led to a small corridor and a door. Ninefingers stopped, looking at it.[41]
“It’s a door,” said Felewin. “You open them.”
“Hold on. We haven’t seen any other doors that survived down here, but this one did. The doors on the private rooms we saw have all rotted away.”
“The tables survived. The bucket survived.”
“I guess.”
“What if I open it?” Felewin said. “That way, the two who can see in the dark can look beyond it and act.”
“Okay. Sure. Wait while Hrelgi looks up a damage spell.”
“Ooh,” she said. “Be ready with a life drain spell. Okay.”
Felewin put away the crossbow and grabbed his shield as protection. He reached out and grabbed the handle.
The door grew teeth.
Felewin tried to pull his hand away but was stuck.[42] A pseudopod grew from the door and attempted to bash him.
“Mimic,” said Uthrilir.
Ninefingers said sarcastically, “Gee, never heard of them.”[43]
“We’re all getting along,” cautioned Felewin while he avoided the pseudopod and the teeth that had suddenly appeared.
Hrelgi said, “It’s not undead, is it? The spell I was preparing was for undead.” She flipped pages.
“If we attack it, we’ll be stuck too,” said Ninefingers.
“Then I’ll use that big pole arm; we can live without it,” said Uthrilir. He grabbed the pole arm from Ninefingers’ back.[44]
Felewin tried to fend off another attack from the pseudopod but failed, and it solidly thumped him. Uthrilir stabbed once, and Ninefingers hit it again: the two injuries killed the mimic, and it slumped to the ground as a puddle of dead flesh.
Hrelgi said, “Got it!” She looked at the dead mimic. “Oh. It’s dead.”[45]
Felewin sank to his knees. “Okay, Ninefingers. I’ll listen to you about possible monsters.”
“Uthrilir, can the Lady help him?”
“I can ask,” said Uthrilir. He prayed and laid hands on Felewin.
The man stood and said, “My thanks to the Lady, and to you.” He looked around. “That was exciting. Shall we move on?”
4 - Den of Ghasts
The room held a small table and two high-backed chairs. One the table were a clay jug, a pair of gray mugs, and some candlesticks with used-up stubs. Above hung a chandelier without candles. Ninefingers stuck his head into the corridor to the right and saw disturbed earth. “This is where one of the ghouls came from, so it goes back to that intersection.”
Felewin said, “And the other room?”
“Give me a minute.” Ninefingers had his sword out and looked cautiously. “Bedroom of some kind. Bed, wardrobe, footlocker, more. Uthrilir, let’s go in. Felewin, Hrelgi, you take the rear.”
They stood at the entrance to the room. Hrelgi played the lantern light over the room. “No one’s sleeping in that bed.”
“Feather mattress…well, what used to be,” said Ninefingers. “Best bed we’ve seen. Most important?”
Hrelgi said, “What’s in the crate?”
Uthrilir looked without moving. He said, “Torches and candles.”
“Be useful,” said Felewin.
“Sure. Could be a trap, too. Do you want to face another mimic?”
“They’re territorial. We probably won’t find a second one,” said Uthrilir.
“Point taken,” said Felewin. “Okay, what about what’s in the wardrobe and locker? I doubt they’re useful but they’re also the right size for a hiding place.”
“Now you’re thinking with proper caution,” said Ninefingers. “Uthrilir, you’re still holding the pole arm. Flip open the foot locker.”
Uthrilir did so. Nothing happened.
Ninefingers stood on tip-toe to look in. “That doesn’t look like local manufacture. So stuff taken from adventurers?”
“I’m sure others have come here, lured by the children or herded by mists,” said Felewin. “So that stuff is probably safe.”
Hrelgi said, “Grimoires!”
“Sure, probably safe, but it was also no help to them. Okay, Felewin, arm your crossbow. When it’s ready, tell us and Uthrilir will flip open the wardrobe.”
There were some old clothes in the wardrobe; nothing more.
“Hrelgi, go get one of the candlesticks we saw in the other room. We’re going to get a candle and light it.”
Hrelgi asked, “Why not use these candlesticks?”
“Possibly trapped,” said Ninefingers.
Hrelgi fetched the holder. “Uthrilir, can you get one of the candles?”
As soon as Uthrilir grabbed a candle, doors hidden in the walls opened and gaunt figures in tattered robes came out. The smell also wafted out.[46] Ninefingers and Uthrilir were immediately busy with trying not to vomit.[47] One ghast immediately struck at Uthrilir and brought him low, with Uthrilir clutching the wound. Felewin loosed the crossbow bolt and it penetrated the chest of the ghast.
Hrelgi cast a spell to increase Uthrilir’s protection; no ghast could harm him for a while.[48]
Ninefingers lost the battle and fell to his knees, vomiting. Uthrilir stayed down,[49] but hands over his mouth this time.
Felewin charged forward and drew his sword as he took the four steps; he slashed at the ghast and cut it open.
Uthrilir also lost his battle and vomited; his vomit splashed on the feet of the ghasts and Felewin.
The ghast that Felewin had slashed failed to hit him with its claws; the other ghast did, wounding Felewin slightly. Its touch burned, and Felewin knew he was in trouble.
Hrelgi said, “They’re undead, right?”
“Yes,” said Felewin, trying to move so that he faced both of them.
One of the ghasts cackled.[50]
Felewin swung to hit both, slicing the neck of one deeply — it fell — and hurting the other.
“You have killed Gustav!” it cried. It slashed its claws at him in a frenzy and connected: Felewin felt the blood well up at the wound on his leg.
Hrelgi spoke words of power.[51] The ghast’s tattered robes turned into flame, engulfing the ghast and killing it. The stench of burning hair and flesh filled the room, and Felewin staggered back to wrap an arm around Ninefingers.
“I didn’t think just sucking its life out would work, because it’s dead,” Hrelgi said as she rushed to Uthrilir’s side. They helped their two companions into the outer room and then into the corridor where they had fought the ghouls.
The stench of the ghasts was still present but much lessened out here, and both Uthrilir and Ninefingers slowly recovered. Felewin fumbled another bolt into the crossbow, waiting. If they saw something, he wanted to shoot first.
Hrelgi fussed over Uthrilir’s wound and made it better. Felewin felt that maybe he was hurt worse but chose not to say anything.
Uthrilir noticed Felewin’s wounds and prayed to the Lady for help, then laid hands on him. The wounds closed and the burning sensation stopped.
Ninefingers eventually said, “And that’s why I didn’t want to engage with anything.”
“We have no choice,” said Felewin. “Here, have my rations.”
Ninefingers refused. “I’m not really up to eating.”
Felewin stood. “Then are you up to going downstairs?”
Hrelgi said, “After we hold our breath so we can go through that foot locker. There was a grimoire in there!”
They found a chain shirt that functioned as a short hauberk on Uthrilir; a flask of alchemist's fire (both Felewin and Ninefingers recognized the mark); four potions of healing; and three torches.
5 - The Lower Basement
Stairs, a landing, and more stairs. Then a large room with plastered walls, as if they didn’t want the dirt or stone bare. The room was large, with niches — shelves, really — dug into the walls. The chant was clearer here, and they could now make out the words: He is the Ancient. He is the Land.
Ninefingers could see the contents of one niche, the nearest one: a mummified hand on a loop of rope, and from the size, it had probably been a goblin’s hand.
Were the items significant? If they were removed, would something happen? Or was it all some weird trophy case for the cult that had been here?
Ninefingers paced the perimeter of the room: Two knives of different types, an orb, a wand that Urthilir assured him was an aspergillum, a cloak, a wand maybe, a bag of something, a severed finger (ew), a wooden figurine about a human hand high, an iron pendant, a shrunken head (probably of a halfling) and a tiny wooden box.
After walking, he turned to Hrelgi and said, “I can’t make sense of them. Is anything here magic?”
She cast her spell[52] and said, “Nothing. Not even the dirt. No magic triggers, no magic items. The distasteful things are just distasteful things. Well, I suppose some of them could be useful as a focus, but not to me.”
“There’s nothing magic down here?”
“Oh, I checked only this room. Without knowing how big this level is, I couldn’t check everything.”
“Of course.” Ninefingers sighed.
Felewin said, “It’s tough being in charge of this group.”
Ninefingers swallowed words before they could come out.
Felewin said, “Two corridors out. One goes down and has water in it; the other doesn’t. Why don’t we check the dry one first?”
Hrelgi said, “You know we’re going to end up getting wet.”
“Allow me this tiny indulgence. I want to put it off a bit.”
Ninefingers led them through the dry hallway.
Uthrilir said, “Wild guess, but solid alcoves and rusty shackles mean prison.”
“Yes,” said Hrelgi. Midway through the room, she said, “Oh, look, a skeleton.”
“So he’s been here long enough for the flesh to rot off. Rats, maybe?”
“Maybe. He’s wearing a ring.”[53] Before Ninefingers could say anything, she slid it off the skeleton’s bony finger.
“Hrelgi!” cried Ninefingers.[54]
Hrelgi said, “Nothing happened.” She looked at the ring and said, “Ugly design.” She slid it back on the skeleton.
“This room… Sort of a weird design,” said Ninefingers.
“Not really space efficient,” said Uthrilir.
“No. They could have set these cells all parallel and gotten a couple more cells.” He looked at the walls, which were decorated with geometric patterns. “So they probably wanted this space.” Ninefingers looked at the walls some more and then concentrated on the one to the chamber they hadn’t yet visited. “Hrelgi, you have the light. Can you shine it on an angle here?”
“Here?”
“Closer to the wall… Right. Huh. That’s a seam. So there’s a secret door.”
Felewin said, “I don’t have to get wet? I’m in favour.”
Ninefingers said, “You might still.” Ninefingers reached up and levered up the hook. Nothing happened. “Felewin, can you push this higher?”
Felewin did so and the wall popped open a bit. Felewin grabbed the door and pulled it open.
The chanting stopped as soon as they looked into the room.
The room was square and big, with smooth masonry walls. They stood on a mezzanine that ran most of the way around: it dipped down to the portcullis, and was broken on the opposite wall, revealing a dark cave heaped with refuse.
The ground level was filled with murky water; this was the water that went to the other room. From here, they could see the portcullis that blocked the passage, and the wheel that probably raised and lowered the portcullis.
The center of the room was above water: an octagonal dais rose there, The ceiling dangled rusty chains above a stone altar on the dais. The altar was stained with dry blood.
Hrelgi took a step, and Ninefingers said, “No one goes in there yet.”
She made a face and stopped.
“Uthrilir, you and I will look from the doorway.”[55]
They stood in the doorway, muttering to each other.
“Altar’s disgusting,” said Ninefingers. “Are those shackles on the chains?”
“There’s no way you get to the center without getting wet. How deep is that water?”
“Felewin, would you reach into my pack and get the rope and the hammer?”
Felewin got on his knees and fetched them, then handed them to Ninefingers.
“Now be ready with the crossbow. Uthrilir, keep beside me.”
He lashed the rope to the hammer and threw it over the edge, then pulled it back. It was not very deep, which meant it was still to Uthrilir’s waist and Ninefinger’s chest.
“Of course,” said Felewin, “that only measures the depth at one place. Really, and I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, I need to go down to the portcullis and use the pole arm to check a path.”
Uthrilir said, “Are there killer fish?”
Felewin did a double-take. “There are killer fish? I hate water.”
Ninefingers said, “There aren’t going to be killer fish because this water doesn’t provide them anything to kill. You were in more danger at the marshes.”
A few more hammer tosses suggested that the water stayed the same depth throughout.
Felewin asked, “Where’s the water come from?”
“Seepage, probably,” said Uthrilir.[56]
“So no killer fish?” asked Felewin.
“No killer fish,” said Ninefingers.
“They’re called ‘sharks,’ and they’re much bigger,” said Hrelgi. “I’ve heard of them.”
“We’re trying to find some way to deactivate the house,” said Ninefingers. “There are only two things left to try: The wheel, which probably only activates the portcullis but maybe not; and the dais there. Felewin, the water is up to my chest but only your knees.” Ninefingers held up a hand. “We could send Hrelgi but Hrelgi is no good if something attacks her; she’s better off sniping from here.”
“Oh, all right,” said Felewin. “Hrelgi, do you know any spell so I can hear Ninefingers instead of shouting across the room?”
“I can make your ears really big,” she said.
“I’ll pass. I want the helmet to fit.”
Felewin looked at the two lanterns and finally decided to take lit torch instead. If the torch fell in the water (say, if he were attacked by a ‘shark,’ whatever that was), the flame would go out, but otherwise, fire might be useful against something on the dais.
‘Might,’ ‘maybe,’ ‘perhaps’ seemed to be the words of the moment.
Felewin put on his leather cap and took the pole arm in hand, then lit the torch. Once it was burning steadily, he walked along the mezzanine and down to the portcullis and wheel. He tried the wheel.
It resisted, but that might be rust, and it was. He slowly raised the portcullis.
Now he had an exit that was relatively easy to get to. Stairs were fine, but these stairs were a hard turn from the direction he’d be running.
He picked up the torch again and held the flame near the water.
Still murky. Some kind of oil or something formed a slick on the top. It did not catch fire.
Two feet of water was going to reach over the top of his boots. He was going to squelch for the rest of the day.
If he survived. So far the evil seemed very banal. Lethal, but banal.
Felewin took a deep breath and started wading, using the pole arm to check the depth. There were no surprises and in a moment he was squelching up the steps to the dais.
Up close, he could see the designs on the dais: Grasping ghouls and demons, trying to pull down the thing on the altar/dais. The brownish-red colour was undoubtedly dried blood. He looked up at the chains hung above the altar. He presumed they put the victims up above the altar and bled them; that would explain the stains. There was a set of small holes for the blood to drain out, and there were matching holes at the base of the altar. From the stains, the holes weren’t big enough to drain all the blood, or they got blocked before the altar stopped being used.
He walked around the altar, tapping it with the butt of the pole arm, listening for a hollow space.
Ninefingers would do this so much better, Felewin thought.
All right; there didn’t seem to be anything else here. Maybe the chains turn into giant snakes or something? He shouted as much to the others.
Ninefingers said, “Go ahead and try. Only other thing to try is the natural cave with the mound of garbage.”
“Joy,” muttered Felewin. “Garbage.”
He lit a second torch and set it on the corner of the altar so the flame wasn’t near him. Then he hopped up on the altar.
The chanting rose once more as thirteen dark apparitions appeared on the mezzanine. Each one resembled a black-robed figure holding a torch, but the torch’s fire was black and seemed to draw light into it. Instead of faces, they had voids. “One must die!” they chanted, over and over. “One must die! One must die!”
Felewin waited for whatever was going to attack; Uthrilir swept his mace through one of them to no effect.[57]
Hrelgi flipped some pages and then cast a spell.[58] “Apparitions,” she said. “We see them but they can’t affect us.”
“One of us has to die, is what they’re saying,” said Ninefingers over the chanting.
“Not going to happen,” said Felewin. He cast an eye at the chains, which remained chains, and then hopped off the altar.
The chanting changed. “Lorghoth the Decayer, we awaken thee!”
Felewin thought, I’m not waiting for Lorghoth. He nimbly ran down the dais and into the water, heading for the portcullis. The rest of the party were already heading that way.[59] Suddenly Ninefingers stumbled and fell, unconscious.
Uthrilir and Hrelgi had not noticed yet; Felewin shouted over the chanting, “Ninefingers! Help Ninefingers!”
There was the sound of moving water, and Felewin turned to look.
The mound of garbage was moving toward him.
Clearly, that was Lorghoth the Decayer.
Maybe it was something alive, maybe “Lorghoth” had possessed the mound of garbage.
Could a mound of garbage climb stairs? Because right now, the obvious target for Lorghoth was him, Felewin.
Almost running, he took high steps toward the portcullis. He was, unfortunately, the slowest of the group. Even Ninefingers could outpace him, but Felewin felt that if he could make it to the stairs, he would be safe. (It could squeeze through the opening with the portcullis and make it to the outer room, but with luck, by then they would be up the stairs.)
The mound of garbage moved as though it wasn’t impeded by the water at all.[60] Bits of garbage fell off as it moved, revealing glossy crimson-tinged leaves: a plant was the structure on which the thing was built.
But it was a moving plant, and one that moved through the water as fast as Felewin did, while being four times the size.
Felewin would not make it to the stairs. He was close — tantalizingly close — but he was still knee-deep in water when he felt something hit his backpack and spin him around. Turning and running was not going to get him free; it was going to get him hit.
He was holding the two torches; he thrust with them, hoping to light the thing on fire.[61] His torches landed and he left them there, on the theory that green wood does not burn well.
The torches sputtered and went out.
Too wet, he thought. It wasn’t just the green wood; the refuse on the mound was wet.
A…branch? Fluke? Something? An arm swung out to hit him.[62] Felewin managed to dodge out of the way.
Felewin thought about poking it with the pole arm, but he had no experience with them. It’s just in my way. He tossed the pole arm behind him. With luck it would hit the stairs and they could fetch it again, but staying alive was more important. He drew his sword, but there was no way to discard a pole arm, draw a sword, and attack.[63]
Felewin managed to hit the thing (it was the size of a horse and cart) but did no damage. It missed him again, thank goodness. Hrelgi cast a spell[64] but it had no effect.
Felewin had no idea what might hurt it. He backed up, trying to get to get portcullis and opening. If he couldn’t defeat it, he could at least lead it away from Ninefingers and the others.[65]
He got in a solid shot that chipped off some of its bole; it missed him, and Hrelgi’s spell siphoned off energy[66] from the mound. It didn’t seem to affect the thing.
Felewin kept backing up[67]. He felt the portcullis above him, but the mound was still approaching. Hrelgi managed the spell again but didn’t control the magic backlash; Felewin knew that from the way she said, “Ow!” up on the mezzanine.
He was on his own. At least out of the water he would be able to move.
He passed through the portcullis and realized the flaw in his thinking.
He had used up his torches against the thing, and was using the light from the lantern with Hrelgi; beyond the portcullis, there was no light.
Felewin thought a dirty word.
Can’t force Lorghoth back; it’s too big. Can’t spend time lighting a torch. What did that room look like? Can I navigate it in the dark?
He felt the floor rise behind him.
Have to.
Getting into the “prison” was the easy part; if they had left the secret door open, there would be a glimmer of light leading to them. Probably; he couldn’t remember if they had shut the door.[68]
He hit the thing once more (a solid shot) and he heard Hrelgi’s voice…and the thing stopped moving.
It was blocking the portcullis, but it had stopped moving.
Felewin backed up carefully, then felt his way to the prison. They weren’t going to leave through the portcullis, so he was certain they would be re-entering through the prison.
They had shut the secret door. Felewin could hear them banging on the wall trying to get back through. That must mean that Ninefingers was still unconscious.
It took Felewin some groping[69] to find the sconces, but he eventually did, and he triggered the door. He was rewarded by a crack of light as the door came loose, followed by Uthrilir with his mace held high and Hrelgi, dragging Ninefingers.
“Hi. We can’t wake him. Uthy says he’ll probably get better.”
“The mound!”
“It’s probably dead,” said Hrelgi.
“I’ve seen a number of things die and then get better. With Ninefingers unconscious, we’ve lost our experienced person.” Felewin shook his head. “We get out as far as we can. We saw that trapdoor; we’ll use it.”
Felewin lit the bullseye lantern and hoisted Ninefingers over his shoulder. “Uthrilir, you take lead. I’m burdened so I’ll go in the middle. Sorry Hrelgi; you’re at back. Keep talking unless we say not to; I want to know that you’re okay even if I can’t see you.”
“What should I talk about?”
“Tell me how you met Uthrilir,” said Felewin. “Let’s go.”
“Well, I’d left my village because they were chasing me…”
6 - The Hasty Retreat
Getting to the trapdoor was the easy part: no ghouls or monsters stood in their way. Once they got to the trapdoor, Felewin lifted Uthrilir and Ninefingers up and saw that the room was filled with oily black smoke. Felewin helped Hrelgi up, and then Uthrilir pulled him up.
Hrelgi had already crawled the perimeter of the room, trying to find the door. “Door is replaced by swords,” she shouted.
“You don’t actually have to shout,” Felewin said.
Felewin thought, If we can’t go through the door, what about breaking through a window?
He looked at the walls,[70] searching for a window.
The windows were bricked up. He didn’t think they had been before entering the house, so the house was trying to keep them from leaving.
(Also, the swords instead of doors.)
Break through a wall. Not an outside wall, but an interior one…
Fireplaces and windows were usually on outside walls, so he knew what two walls were interior walls.[71] He picked one and got to his feet.[72] He charged the wall, holding his arms in front of his head.[73] Rats swarmed over him, clawing and biting.[74] There was no smoke in this room, and it looked vaguely familiar. He took a deep breath of clean air. Behind him, he could hear Uthrilir hitting rats, or hitting the ground to scare rats[75].
Felewin took a deep breath and held it as he went in for Ninefingers. He met Hrelgi dragging Ninefingers; she said, “Get Uthy!”
Coughing, Uthrilir said, “I’m fine, get out!”
Nonetheless, Felewin grabbed the dwarf’s backpack and pulled him out.
They all sat in the now-drab entryway. “We came in here,” said Felewin.
“We did,” said Uthrilir.
Hrelgi asked, “Shouldn’t we get outside?”
“Mists,” said Felewin. “We’re stuck here until morning.” He kicked at a rat.
Uthrilir said, “Let me ask the Lady for help.”[76] He prayed and touched each of them; Hrelgi waved him off. “I did not manage for Ninefingers, I’m afraid. The Lady has her own reasons.”
“I can try,” said Hrelgi.
“Please.”
She flipped pages in her grimoire and muttered a spell. Ninefingers’ eyes fluttered open.
Perhaps from long training, but Ninefingers said nothing until he knew he had assessed the situation.
“We’re not dead,” he finally said.
“Not yet,” said Felewin. “The night’s still young.”
“Is it?” asked Uthrilir.
“Even if it weren’t, we have one more set of blades to pass,” said Felewin.
Ninefingers pulled himself to a sitting position. “Those are new,” he said. “I am sure I’d remember blades at the doors. The house is trying to kill us?”
“That’s our working theory,” Felewin said, and then he said to Hrelgi, “Do not give the house ideas.”
“I’ve thought of three things it could do,” she said.
“Tell us after we get out,” Uthrilir said.
“There’s a pattern,” said Ninefingers. “To the blades.”
“I believe you,” said Felewin. “But if the mists are going to kill us, I’m not sure what good it is defeating the blades.”
Ninefingers insisted. “We get out of here, and get into one of the other buildings.”
“The night might be over,” Uthrilir said. “We can’t tell with the windows blocked.”
“And who knows what else the house is going to try? Maybe one of the three things I thought of, but maybe something else,” said Hrelgi.[77]
Felewin got to his feet. “All right. I’ll go out and look.”
“Not you,” said Ninefingers. “Someone else.”
Felewin said, “Then someone who can heal himself”—Hrelgi cleared her throat—“or herself.”
“I can see in the dark,” said Uthrilir. “Day or night, I can see the mists. And the Lady will heal me.”
Ninefingers said, “And if you don’t make it through the blades, we’re without someone who can heal us.”
“Or,” said Felewin, “set fire to the whole place and escape once it’s damaged enough.”
“Have you ever been in a fire, Felewin? It’s a terrible thing,” said Uthrilir. “Last resort. I can go.”
Hrelgi said, ““I’ve been healing myself since I was a little girl. I can just do it.[78]” No one said anything, and she said, “Settled, then,” and looked at the doorway. “This is to outside, right? We agree?”
“We do,” said Felewin.
She slipped through the blades. “Easy-peasy,” she shouted back. “And there’s no mist![79]”
The blades badly cut Uthrilir (but Hrelgi healed him), and then each of the other two. Uthrilir healed Ninefingers, and this time it was Felewin lying there. He managed to say, “Healing potion….in my pouch.”
Ninefinger searched his pouch and found it, and poured it into Felewin’s mouth, sprinkling the last few drops on his wounds. It helped, but it did not heal him fully.[80]
“I guess backpacks make a big difference,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” She flipped pages in her main grimoire and found the spell to heal him.
Lying there, Felewin said, “I thought you said it was morning.”
“No, silly. I said there were no mists!”
Felewin finally said, “Now we burn the house.”
“The ghosts said it would get better,” pointed out Uthrilir.
“Even if it gets better tonight, for today no one enters it.” He rolled onto his knees and looked through his pack. “I recognize this. Alchemist’s fire. When it cracks open, it starts to burn. We throw it through the blades. The house catches fire.”
“We might need that later,” said Ninefingers.
Felewin shook his head. “I’m not carrying it any more. That stuff burns too easily for me to want to carry it in my backpack. My father used it on one of his campaigns, and the wagon with it spontaneously caught fire.”
He looked at the others. Ninefingers disapproved but the other two nodded.
Felewin tossed the alchemist’s fire into the house; they heard the glass break and some time later, flames ate the building.
By the time the sun came up, the house was gone.
Game Mechanics
