2nd floor (50' up) - meet and release snake-demon familiar, free souls from statues & paintings, kill secret-door-elementals, free the souls of Shabira & Pentathur from their bottle prisons.
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| Shabira Marsesk, Princess & Priestess of Set |
5/9/2214, Uluon, the Long Night.
Quodeth, House of the Crescent Moon
Heavy Rain hammers the roof tiles of the House of the Crescent Moon, a gust of wind whines through the door to the vegetable garden, which clatters ajar in its frame. The retainers pass around the excellent brandy, olives, and cheese. Saya quaffs down a slug of wyvern smoke and continues her tale.
The Tower of Golden Scales shimmers in the full moonlight. Inside our heroes had a simple choice to make, down or up. But as they discussed this, the Finnris spoke to Zerda.
“Zerda, I would have words with you.”
Zerda intrigued, follows the barbarian outside. The surrounding Jungle is dark and foreboding.
“Zerda, I want you to have the Dawn Spear.” Said Finnris, thrusting the shaft of the weapon into Zerda’s chest.
Zerda taken aback did not understand and for once was lost for words.
“Consider it a wedding present Zerda.” Finnris said.
“It is your time, Atlantean. Take it!” Finnris seizing the opportunity to talk over his friend for once continued.
“The Festival of Azura is in a few months, what better way to grow your fame Atlantean than in triumph at the Spire of Dawn with the greatest symbol of Azura’s power.” The Dhari then clapped Zerda on the shoulder and stalked back into the Tower.
The descent
The heroes gathered around the stairs down to the dungeon, a moist loamy smell came from below. Aeshma and Vorstag descend the stairs into the rotting cellar first. They came into basement, freshly overturned earth befouled with moon vines of many colours filled the chamber, in its centre a stone sarcophagus on top of which was a strange skeleton.
As they moved further into the room, rotting corpses burst from the earth to attack. The battle was terrible, the rotting zombies spewing noxious gas and vomiting rancid vines over them. Vortsag surrounded, screamed for help, Finnris cut through the undead to his aid, Vorstag relieved retreated to shout instructions from the atop the stairs. Aeshma in the thick of the battle channelled thunder destroying several zombies and making Finnris ears ring even more than the exploding zombies burned his flesh. Zerda and Craw charged in, and the battle was soon won. But the Heroes had been battered. What was this unholy place? The chamber, strewn with strange moon vines was ancient, certainly from the times of Nessk. The serpent woman atop the stone coffin must have lain there for an eternity. Indeed, since before the time Tamalcan, the Towers most recent owner.
…
The ascent
With no further route below the heroes determined to ascend the Tower.
Craw, his mercenary looting instincts finely tuned took the lead, climbing the steps to the next level, which was mostly collapsed, he pressed on up another flight of stairs into a high-ceilinged chamber. Moonlight spilled into the room through a fissure in the wall illuminating life-like statues, twisted in torment. Paintings on the wall’s, depicted further scenes of despair, tortured victims writhe in agony. Opposite the staircase three massive skulls, a dragon, a giant ape and a huge ram, they had found Tamalcan’s trophy room. Craw wasted no time searching and discovering a small talking snake. Craw and the serpent got on very well, the serpent was called Oraborn, and it seems was the wizards familiar. Oraborn had been trapped in the Tower by the same magic that ended his master Tamalcan. Craw interviewed Oraborn about the Tower and its contents then satisfied agreed to free him and promptly took him outside to freedom. Outside the Tower, the serpent no longer hampered by the curse that held him in the Tower took his pure form, a giant dark naga from the upper hells. Craw and Oraborn wish each other well and parted company. Back in the Tower, Craw destroys the statues and paintings Tamalcan has imprisoned tormented souls within. Then he promptly opens the secret door to Tamalcan’s office. At which point two guardian earth elementals attack. The fight is short, the heroes shoving and pushing each other to be first over the rubble into Tamalcan’s office.
Tamalcan’s office is dominated by an excellent desk, atop the desk two crystal decanters, pulse with strange lights, a stylish magnifying glass beside them. The Heroes quick to purpose release one of the crystal stoppers, vapour pours forth, and the room is filled with crackling energy as the heroes are transported to a pocket of hell created by the twisted sepentmancer Tamalcan.
A blazing sun beats down on the bone-dry desert, a man hangs from a large dead tree. The General Pentathur, kidnapped by Tamalcan over a hundred years ago, still alive. The heroes cut him down and are attacked by a pair of vulture demons swopping out of the blinding sun. The demons did not last long. The general’s shade finally released from Tamalcan’s torment promises to aid the heroes from the beyond as his spectral form dissipates.
Next, they open the other bottle and again are transported to another pocket dimension the fiendish wizard has conjured for his pleasure, this time it’s the prison of Princess Shabria Marsek. The enchantment here is different, and the Princess must be persuaded three times to leave the pocket universe Tamalcan has imprisoned her in, but at a cost. A foul beast vomited from hell attacks this time laying all but Craw and Finnris low, they stand firm and smite the foul demonic insect, but not before it drained Finnris terribly. Freed from torment the Princess vows to aid the heroes from the beyond, just like her love general Pentathur. Then fades into the afterlife.
The heroes gather back in the trophy room, look up the stairs to the next level and wonder what could strange devilments would be next?
Epilogue
Saya starts, and stops her tale, as the door to the House of the Crescent Moon is pounded.
“Open up in the name of the Grand Vizier!” comes a gruff command from outside.
The retainers shocked, look around at each other nervously. Outside a full platoon of the Grand Vizier’s bodyguard stands ready, steel shields and war spears glistening in the heavy rain.
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