Introduction
Ok, so the first part of this session report was not the whole story. When abducting the conditions inside the Skalrath, adapted from a certain module, I ended up with an opposition force that I realised could very likely win against the party. I find the idea of resetting the odds in the hopes of a "fair" battle to be distasteful, and also self defeating; better to work out what things might reasonably happen if the party loses—other than them all being dead that is. In this case the factions involved—the most fearsome of the long slumbering mummies of the tombs, and the ghost of a certain frog-muppet-news-reporter and newcomer to the Skalrath, did have other needs. Defeat might not be the end.
Timekeeping
This session report continues the one that began on November 20th, with the player characters adventuring in Brovenloft until the 22nd. Downtime for these characters began on the 23rd.
Player Characters Present
Giuseppe (Level 8 Paladin of Rome, Brovenloft, wielder of the Dragonslayer and the Shield of Protection from Missiles, rider of Bonecrusher) with henchmen Bishoy (F6) and Tawadros (F6)Sheamus (Level 8 Irish Fighter from Brovenloft, rider of the Rocket Cycle and wielder of the Drewblade)Gurt the Green (Level 6 Paladin of Machodor, wielder of the Liberator, bearer of the Fabled Ice Jewel of Frigia, rider of Artax) with henchman Cedric (C4)Oblate (Level 3 Illusionist)
Downtime
Session Report
When last we left our heroes they were beaten and down, while a tall mummy appeared—seemingly from from thin air—and approached them. Wrapped in age‑blackened linens and draped in heavy gold and lapis regalia that gleamed with enchantments, he wore a golden death’s‑head mask with black sapphire eyes, and in one withered hand he carried an ornate rod banded with shifting elemental colours. All this marked him as something far greater than a common tomb resident.
He stopped before the battered and bleeding forms of Giuseppe and the others. With a single sweep of the rod he arrested the attacks of the axe‑wielding mummies, freezing them mid‑stride, then spoke in a hollow rasp: “Enough! The messenger of Kangsta Wrapper requires live prey for the Nathruk.”
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| "Those mummies hit hard." |
Encounter #1: the Nathruk
Rounds: 1
Result: Party evadedHighlights: Without their main weapons this would have been a difficult fight, to say the least, but Sheamus immediately suggested he use his invisibility bracer to escape undetected. This met with instant agreement and—being already within ten feet of the Irish warrior—they winked out of sight as the bracer activated and 5 of the remaining 10 charges were consumed. The bad guys hadn't expected that. Yet the adventurers still had to evade the questing tentacles of the Nathruk.
Moving low and slow along the ledge, they picked their moment between sweeps of the rubbery arms, then dashed for the exit, boots splashing softly in comparison to the noise from their enemy—and, by some miracle of timing and nerve, every last one of them made it through the arch and out of the Nathruk’s flooded lair without another scratch. Later one of them would recall that the creature wore a strange amulet around its blubbery neck.
Rounds: 4
Result: Armour damagedHighlights: With no way out but through, the still invisible adventurers pushed through the water. Each step broke the membrane with a wet tearing sound, releasing bursts of stench as the slime slid over helms, shields, and packs. Four of them came out the other side covered in slime—slime that was rapidly eating through their magic armour.
In their haste they ran up the stairs, out of the water and into a circular stone room, its walls and floor worked smooth and etched everywhere with tight spirals and bands of strange glyphs that caught the light from Giuseppe's helm. Dripping and gasping, they had only a heartbeat to register the patterns—no time to puzzle out a single symbol—before the runes flared in a sudden lattice of cold light. With a lurch in their stomachs and a snapping sensation in their ears, the entire company was wrenched away, the slime‑stinking air of the Skalrath replaced in an instant as the teleportation field hurled them out of the dungeon and into the waiting world somewhere outside.
They found themselves in a forest clearing, crammed together on a circular platform of black stone half‑sunk into the earth, the air cool and clean after the Skalrath’s stench.
The warriors leapt from the disc at once, clawing at buckles and straps as they tried to peel away armour still slick with patches of hungry green slime.
Even with two paladins available, several agonising rounds of damage followed before someone gave the order and they piled their armour together and set them alight, watching the slime shrivel and blacken in the flames.
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| There's a lot going on in this scene. |
The burning died down, leaving scorched mail and damaged plates but no living slime, and they stood panting among smoking gear, ringed by dark trees and unfamiliar undergrowth.
They could hear only wind in the branches and distant birdcalls—no sign of the Skalrath, no landmarks of Machodor—so their first clear thought, shared in uneasy glances, was simple: where in all of Brovenloft had the dungeon sent them? In the distance they could see something deeply strange: a continuous, ruler‑straight line of humanoid shapes stretching across the horizon, each one glowing with its own inner light. As their eyes adjusted they could pick out individual figures, human in outline yet perfectly still, as if statues carved from light. The line did not waver with the land or trees; it simply ran on and on behind the forest trunks, an eerie, silent cordon of light that made the hairs on every neck stand up.
Examining the stone platform they found it to be carved with familiar Old Kingdom hieroglyphs: the signs for “Passage” and “West” stood out clearly among the incised lines.
Giuseppe, stung by the loss of his dragonslaying blade to the Skalrath, pressed the case for an immediate test: if this disc was a paired teleport, perhaps they could return, recover the weapon, and come back again.
After a brief exchange the others agreed, they formed up on the disc, and with a flash of cold light the forest vanished and the party was hurled back into the same fetid, slime‑stinking underworld chamber which was just as they had left it—more slime awaited them.
In another wrenching instant they were standing again in the forest clearing, damp, armour scorched, but now certain they had a two‑way gate between Brovenloft’s wilds and the heart of the Skalrath.
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| Sheamus' map of Brovenloft |
Rounds: N/A
Result: A ominous rumble of thunder from a clear sky, then he drove away.Highlights: This creature appealed to the adventurers to come with him to his master's castle, for dinner. They declined. I considered following Chubby Funster's advice from his Ravenloft series (which would result in a fatality) but decided that it wasn't warranted—this time. Gonzomdo shrugged, snapped his reins, and the coach thundered west into the trees at alarming speed.
Watching the coach vanish, Gurt muttered about how such a carriage had once been his dream downtime target in Machodor, only for the others to joke that if he were truly dedicated he’d go to Twin Peaks and buy a Ford Bronco instead.
Turning away from the road, they fixed on the phenomenon they now recognised as Kangsta Wrapper’s “Highway of Light”, one of the last acts of the powerful mummy after his discovery of the Skalrath and before his annihilation at the battle of Sesylvania three years ago: two immense marching columns of zombies, each corpse permanently limned by warped Continual Light, forming a glowing causeway under an uncanny, oppressive silence. The yellow lines on the map indicate the vast extent of territory the highway covers.
Every instinct in Giuseppe screamed that these undead abominations should be destroyed on sight, regardless of who had enchanted them or to what end.
Yet with the party depleted, armour half‑ruined, and the line of radiant corpses stretching beyond sight, he held his hand, choosing—for now—to walk alongside the Highway of Light rather than turn it into a battlefield
At the day's end they camped as best they could near the glowing zombie columns, planning to trudge north again at first light, the air around them dimly lit by the steady radiance of the enchanted dead.
Encounter #4&5: Giant Owls
Rounds: N/A
Result: Party negotiated a ride.Highlights: During the watches of the night, the party had not one, but two encounters; both with giant owls. The first lot sailed past over head without apparently taking notice of the camp below. But the second encounter was different, 10 of the huge avians settled down to let Sheena cast Speak with Animals.Once the owls learned the party’s goal was Dublin and judged them acceptable company, they offered to bear each adventurer as a passenger, promising swift passage above the forests.
Trusting to Sheena’s parley, the group mounted up; no hostile flyers challenged them during the journey, and by the end of the next day they were banking down toward the Brovenloft town of Dublin. This place was a LOT stranger that those who were familiar with the Irish Town of the Bandit Mountains—I wonder how things are going there—might expect. Was the danger indeed over? What would they do next? How would they even let their companions know they were alive?
Session Statistics:
Combats: 0
Combat rounds: 0
Losses: pride, armour damaged
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