Category Ptolus

Some light reconnaissance reveals squads of undead roaming around and a whole pack of them atop a high tower, armed with heavy crossbows. Well, the evil clerics see a free supply of cannon fodder and with the appropriate wards and wings, they soon have enslaved about 40 of the skeletal warriors between Bayga and Sniffles. Some taboo investigation leads them to an outbuilding away from the central ruin and there they find stairs that lead down into a frigid – like bone chilling levels of cold – complex.

They poke and pry – spotting a fire and an earth elemental as well as many corridors, doors and a not insignificant number of traps. They double back and begin exploring the doors closest to their entry point...

The band of increasingly eeevil and slightly deranged nouveau riche flit about the city. They have money, but they also have targets upon yon backsides. Although it is unclear who (aside from the church of Lothian, the criminal gangs, the Surgeon and the various cultists, House Vladdam and possibly a lich) might bear a grudge against them, a certain level of paranoia seems appropriate.
Some recollecting and gentle investigating makes it seem like the wilderness of Tehoth might be just the place to get lost for a while.

Passage is obtained and the group sails along, meeting longboats near Phinothae and eventually docking in the elven enclave of Paelinth. Zaal comes into his own as the rest of the group is quietly shunned…except the dwarves, who are actively shunned...

Well, since the silver dragon told them this was their last trip, they decide to poke around and see if they can’t find at least one of the items for which they have been seeking, namely the sword of lies that the church seems to have taken an undue interest in acquiring. They flit, fly and float down from the lofty heights of the spire and take a crack at defeating the iron golem guarding the trapped doors. The golem proves to be a tenacious adversary, shrugging off most everything except Digin’s rage-fueled blows. It does get dicy a time or three, but remote healing provided by the post-pubescent Sniffles keeps the wobbly dwarf alive long enough to fell the creature.
The doors leading to the unexplored space are both trapped and this starts another round of brainstorming, but eventually...

The group departs the warrens and returns to the manor house to assemble a way forward. The neighbors still regard them with a mixture of admiration and concern for the way they tweaked the nose of the Vladaam House. Of course, everyone knows that they didn’t break into the place and kill the guards and possibly murder the heiress to the family crest, nor break into their secret prison to rescue a famous magic-making dwarf! Of course it wasn’t them. Couldn’t be. I mean, the saviors of Ptolus in all their lower class charm, assaulting an old and powerful family? Preposterous! It simply isn’t done. Also, no one is paying any mind to the rumors that they loosed a vampire eating creature from an ancient crypt. People say the silliest things, dontchaknow.

They meet, eat, bathe, and hav...

Digin charges down the hallway and smashes through the door. As he enters the room beyond a volley of poisoned darts whirr past his head like so many incontinent pigeons. He moves onward towards the only other door in the room and almost falls into a 60 foot deep, spike lined pit. Luckily, his flying spell prevents death.

The rest of the group enters and they quickly determine that every square inch of the room is a trap. The floor is just a mass of pit traps, separated by a few inches of stone floor – just enough to house the trap mechanisms. The demon-devil they were pursuing is nowhere to be found and Digin moves to open the door and move on. Alas, as he touches the door, he is petrified and falls 60 feet to the spikes below and shatters into several large chunks. Oh. This is not good...