Carrion Crown / Wake of the Watcher - Part 4 - 22/02/2015
(Gary was absent this week and we did not have a copy of his character sheet. Instead, we used stats for the mud shaman (level 9 druid) from the Pathfinder NPC Codex. The mud shaman turned out to be pretty awesome, much to the GM’s dismay).
Having riled up the Recondite Order of the Indomitable Sea good and proper
(well done Gary), the heroes dive for cover behind the warped, wooden pews throughout the temple. Bolts of negative energy fizzle and pop overhead .
“You outsiders should have minded your own business!” Brother Caleb shrieks as yet more sickle-wielding cultists stream through hidden doors in the rear of the bethel,
“Now you know too much to ever be allowed to leave!”
“I aint’ going anywhere without that sparkly headband of yours,” Hargr yells, eyeing the vicar’s silver tiara greedily. The rest of the party exchange worried glances. Their two wagons are already bursting at the seams with treasure - if Hargr tries to cram any more gold in they will probably explode!
“Maybe we should think about buying a bigger wagon?” Rafe suggests.
“Maybe we should worry about that later!” Van Hellsqueak retorts as the pew he’s cowering behind explodes in a cloud of splinters and bad mojo.
“Don’t worry, friends!” Thorne calls,
“I have a plan!”
“You’re not going to turn into a plant again, are you?” Rafe asks warily.
“Well I was going to - but if you’re going to be so scathing about it….” Thorne sulks.
“It’s just last time you just stood there and swayed….” Rafe added.
“Fine!” Thorne snapped,
“I guess I’ll turn into something different then. Whatever makes you happy, Rafe Jacoby!”
Pointedly ignoring Rafe’s half-hearted apologies, Thorne steps out of cover and begins trundling towards the false clerics. Rafe pops up to provide covering fire, but what he witnesses next causes him to drop his bow in shock and awe. As he runs, Thorne’s ruddy skin grows green and scaly and armoured plates burst from the back of his jerkin along the length of his spine. In the space of ten heartbeats, the dwarven druid transforms into a raging stegosaurus! The ground shakes with each booming step and wooden pews are smashed into kindling beneath it’s terrific mass!
“Level nine druids can wildshape into dinosaurs?!” Van Hellsqueak gasps, dropping his crossbow. A cultist on the other side of the room collapses with a crossbolt sticking out of his eye.
The GM consults the rules. Apparently they can! Sucks to be you, GM! >
The heroes cheer Thorne on as he thunders towards the chapel, crushing several robed fanatics underfoot. The cultist’s response is less enthusiastic. Brother Caleb casts Ice Storm, pelting the stegosaurus with fist-sized hailstones and burying it in freezing slush - yet still Thorne advances
(albeit more slowly). Caleb casts Greater Command and orders the heroes to leave Illmarsh and never return - only Van Hellsqueak succumbs. The plucky halfling throws himself through a stained glass window depicting a mermaid being violated by tentacles. Picking himself up, he runs headlong into the surrounding swampland.
“Aww….” the cultists groan. That window was the closest thing they had to pornography and the nights in Illmarsh are long and lonely.
Their disappointment is short-lived and soon replaced with blind terror as Thorne
(finally!) closes to within 15ft of their position and sweeps his great, bony tail through their ranks. His indiscriminate attack demolishes the rear wall of the temple, revealing a secret shrine to Deep Father Dagon! Caleb and his followers are buried beneath the rubble.
“You fools don’t know what you do!” Caleb wails, unable to extricate himself from the crushing weight of debris,
“If the Order fails to appease the neighbours, Illmarsh will be destroyed! The Pact must be honoured or -mmmfffff!”
“Not our problem.” Hargr says, placing his boot in the zealot’s mouth. Reaching down, Hargr snatches the tiara from atop the vicar’s head and whistles appreciatively. Anything that shiny just has to be valuable!
Stego-Thorne’s stomach makes an ominous gurgling sound. Moments later, he produces a terrible, dinosaur-sized turd atop the trapped fanatic. Caleb's arm emerges from the muck and claws hopelessly for aid that isn’t forthcoming. The pathetic limb shudders then becomes still. The heroes agree that he probably suffocated but nobody is inclined to check.
“My sincerest apologies,” Thorne says, resuming his normal form,
“It must have been something I ate.”
“Ach, you splattered my new boots with that filth!” Hargr explodes, reaching for his axe.
“You can wash it off in that sacred font,” Rafe soothes,
“I’m sure Deep Father Dagon won’t object.”
---
Picking through the wreckage of the secret shrine, the heroes find the entrance to a secret room packed with the headless corpses of the missing villagers.
“Do you think we’ll still get paid for only finding their limbs and torsos?” Rafe worries.
“We found 80% of the missing villagers, we should get paid 80% of the reward,” Hargr states with typical dwarven pragmatism,
“Should the mayor disagree, he may find himself joining this pile.”
'That’s a bit chaotic evil….' Thorne thinks, eyeing the other dwarf nervously. Then his player checks Pat’s alignment. C/E?! When did that happen? Does the GM know? Apparently he does!
The heroes also encounter a pair of Illmarsh residents waiting patiently in an adjoining chamber, apparently unperturbed by the sounds of battle, collapsing masonry and a dinosaur taking a really big poo.
“Oh, hello there strangers!” greets the man warmly,
“My name is Rufus Tulby and this is my dear wife Imelba. We’ve just given our beloved infant daughter to the good priests of Gozreh to be fostered with the mysterious neighbours who live down the bay.”
“That seems a bit silly.” Rafe observes.
“Oh, not at all, sir!” Goodman Tulby continues,
“For over thirty years, every second and third daughter born in Illmarsh has been fostered with the neighbours. It’s all part of an ancient pact to keep the village safe from some ill-defined mythos-related doom. The girls grow up to live long and prosperous lives of plenty amongst the neighbours. That’s what Father Voltiaro assured us before carrying our little girl off to the creepy mansion in the swamp, never to be seen again.”
“She’s such a lucky girl!” Imelda crows, tears of joy glistening on her cheek.
“Isn’t she just?” Hargr agrees,
“Hey, would you two like to see the room of headless bodies we just found? I didn’t see any little headless babies, but maybe I overlooked them. Come and help me check!”
It takes a while for Rafe and Thorne to calm the villagers down again. Imelba faints outright and her husband is noisily ill. In retrospect, the Tulby’s realise that handing their toddler over to a depraved and murderous cult was maybe not the most responsible decision they could have made as parents. Someone will have to go to Undiomede House and prevent Father Voltiaro sacrificing the baby to his mad fishgod!
That
‘someone’ turns out to be the heroes! What a surprise!
It’s only when they get there that the party remember that Van Hellsqueak is still under the effects of Caleb’s Greater Command spell and probably halfway to Caliphas by now….
To be continued….
(We also fought a huge crab-like monster-thing, but I forgot about that and couldn’t be bothered to edit it into my draft. Sorry for denying you your big moment in the spotlight, huge crab-like monster-thing - maybe next time! It did almost cut Rafe in half with its oversized pincers - up until the point Rafe drove a spear through its eye).