Friday, July 6, 2012

Wampus County Play Report II

The Terrifying Apparition

Wampus Country – Play Report II

Chauncy's report to anyone who will listen at the local tavern - spoken in incredibly drunken, highly affected tones. All typographical errors are for flavor. <hic>

We returned to the so called “man-hole”, Rev. Jones (itinerant snake cultist), Mr. Early (Shootist), Mr. Ironwall (Brawler), and I Chauncy Woolstrike TD. We were joined by a Ms. Tsian (a fellow practitioner) and a superstitious harridan by the name of Thalia, priestess of a foreign death cult.

Last week we'd discovered and brutalized a skeletal Cossack, and today we ventured beyond the gear locked door he guarded.

Beyond was a dreary passage, undecorated but pierced by four mysterious arches. Each arch was plugged with a thin plaster wall, painted with an antique skull. My erudition recognized these as the marks of an 500 year old death cult and I resigned myself to preserve these works for future generations.

The skull art was of various fierce demeanor, four garish skulls in Yellow, Blue and Pink and one in a sober black – marked with diamonds. Mr. Iornwall gently cut away the first skull (the yellow) and revealed a tomb within. After reconnaissance by canine and bullet we determined that this chamber was free of undead taint and proceeded in our archeological en devours. Thalia prevented me from taking anti-undead prophylactic measures – the finest science has devised, but like a good scientist I know to accede to the superstitions of the backward when faced with the threat of violence.

Our explorations of the tomb revealed the remains of simple people several gems and a pair of magical daggers, all of which we were forced to acquire for the advancement of human enterprise. The next tomb was similar, only containing several sacks of ancient silver coin – long allowed to lie useless and stranded from the sea of commerce, like a starving castaway on an island in boiling seas. We appropriated these as well, and the strange necklace found within the next tomb where an obstacle finally presented itself. Our canine companion was confronted with a devious ancient pit trap, but managed to an antiquated pit with his bestial dexterity. 

Our motley band also investigated a final tomb - marked with a sinister black skull and containing a sarcophagus filled with Electrum coins (an ancient practice - melding gold and silver into an inferior metal). Also discovered was an strange scroll written in the cant of the ancient death cult.  I was able to discern form my memories of Professor Moriartie's "Ancient practices of the Profane 201" in my Sophomore year that the the scroll contained both a boon and a bane.  The divines among us were able to determine that the boon was a spell to ward off the incorporeal undead - but the bane was undetermined.

After a brief trip back to town with out archeological artifacts we adventurers - being game sorts, returned to the "manhole" and tried the door at the end of the hall beyond the crypts.  Within we heard the chanting of women and when the door was opened our clergy attempted an ill prepared charade - pretending to be the dead risen from the tombs we had recently investigated.

Our farce was detected by the skull faced wenches within, cultists of the foulest sort, and Mr. Early was forced to shoot down their leader as she drew her diabolical weapon. Thalia stunned one of the remaining cultists with her dark magic while I used a vile of oil to cleanse the unholy taint from a distant pair of cult hags who were preparing to smite our band with foul magic. The rest fell to Ms. Tsian's slumber enchantment and we squared away our prisoners before investigating the room.  

A massive block of amber on one wall trapped a mysterious rotted figure, and the heathen cult women were apparently using it to enchant wine for their unholy rites.  We had no chance to experiment with the amber and interrogate our prisoners before a mysterious spirit of a dapper mien manifested in the room.  Both efforts at divine intervention predictably failed ( I assert that the gods are madness, and their divines simply practioners without proper training).  The spirit advanced monocle ablaze - when Rev. Jones, brave despite his flaws, read aloud from the cursed cult scroll and drove it off.  

We left at that point, taking one captive for future interrogation, and some of the cultist's enchanted wine.  We have silver aplenty from the delve, and have discovered other ancient artifacts, but my companions doubt the vlaue of the fresco we recovered - which will undoubtedly gain a the finest price back East if my dear old father is allowed to sell them at auction.

The effect of the curse on brace Rev. Jones is terrible, and yet comical, he now possesses the visage of a strange duck-like swamp rat.

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