The Righteous Purge of Lance Rock.
A great and evil plague had beset an extraordinary road side feature some many miles from Red Larch. We arrived at a most peculiar looking formation. A standing stone tilted at an angle of the afternoon sun, stood anchored to the earth at though the gods themselves had cast it from the heavens. At its base was a cave and only discernible entrance to the base of the stone. As we approach, Tharkun attempts to hail the Lord of Lance Rock.
With no replay after a couple of hails, I dispatched the half breed to investigate. Ilmater has truly blessed this endeavor to provide a creature with the powers to pierce the shadows. I am certain he will prevent my brothers and comrades from stumbling upon any nefarious traps that may have been left.
It seems that the half breed lacks the common sense that most dogs are given, he somehow finds himself in the midst of three undead corpses. It takes Thought Chaser and I but moments to cut down the foul creatures and rescue pointy ears from himself.
The party advances into the subsequent and larger cave. Torm take me, the misbred fool must be some sort of undead beacon as three more walking dead drop from the ceiling upon him. Again, my brothers and I destroy the creatures and Lord Stoneweaver revived the fool who had sustained serious injury (from rocks falling).
Looking with instructions to not touch anything, the half breed reports that the third cave is clear. He tosses a lit stone into the room, apparently rousing the inanimate skeletons to wakefulness and violence.
It is as though he is intentionally trying to get the party killed. If we survive this, I may have to flay the poor creature.
More costumes mockeries of the living shamble forward down a long corridor as Thought Chaser, Snowsitter and I create a defensible picket that wears down their numbers. Lord Stonewearver, still recovering from his illness was able to present capable arms until succumbing to weakness again.
The next room we entered was a crypt of some sort. With no trap for the half breed to set off in this rook we launch ourselves at the two zombies and the assorted disembodied hands in the room. We make very short work of the sickly creatures.
Lastly, the lord of this place…a wizards with the cowardly ability to teleport. Thought Chaser attempted in a moment of pure brilliance that I remembered from our younger days, to open field tackle the the mage. That was when we learned of his deceitful tactic to flee to another part of the room and not face us honorably. I noted that my youngest brother had entered a state of feral bloodlust, a state that I have observed only occasionally since finding his broken body in the desolation of our home.
Something here, in this place, perhaps even the necromancer had triggered a long hidden memory in his shattered mind. The depth of fury in his stance and tactics would get most men killed, the recklessness of it, the abandon…it is these time that haunt my dreams and fill my prayers with pleas of assistance.
The raw destruction that Youngest reeks ultimately destroys the necromancer before I realize it.
I keep the wizard’s wand and globe, the last remnants of the necromancer, in case they can be used to ushers more memories to the surface for my brother.
I have growing concern over the employment of Tharkun, though. His fixation on the cursed arrow from the other day and the subsequent nightmares incurred by all who touched it, his desire to hail the lord of lance rock (was it to hail, or to alert?), his setting off literally every trap in the necromancer’s caves, his “collapsing during combat” and needing to be revived, his covetous desire for an evil doer’s tools of power, and most alarmingly, his statement that he researches and owns a tome of occult knowledge…all indictments that he may be in league with evil forces. His separation is imminent, unless he can convince me that their is a logical explanation to all that I have observed. If need be, I will be prepared to separate his head from his body if he is an agent of evil sent to skulk within my campaign.
He will be watched, he will be judged, and if necessary…he shall be redeemed.