Burnt Offerings

Catacombs of Wrath

The old smuggler tunnels led in two directions; one towards the sea, the other towards the town. Staunchly marching down the tunnel towards town, the party encountered a slavering sinspawn. The first of many. Sinspawn.jpg

The rough hewn walls of the smuggling tunnels, gave way to smooth stone corridors that reeked of age. Traygus examined a red marble statue. Runelord Alaznist was his pronouncement. At that point the realization that this was an ancient structure began to strike home.

Creeping further into the ancient complex, the party came upon a shrine to Lamashtu. The shallow concavity upon the black marble alter held a pool of filthy water. Beyond the rooms double doors led to a underground cathedral to Lamashtu. And within was a demonic Quasit and a runewell shimmering with power. The insane, enraged Quasit , used drops of her own blood to summon a sinspawn, The runewell noticeably dimmed as a result. Tiny and elusive, the Quasit lasted much longer than her summoned spawn, but in the end she fell, her body smote to ruin by the purifing flames of Sarenrae as administered by Aralyynn Sunstride.

Further exploration found an old cellblock, framed with a rickety old walk way. The party was able to rush the two sinspawn on the cell floor below. Using the catwalk to launch spear attacks on the sinspawn below, Traygus was himself ambushed by a sinspawn lurking in the catwalk itself. Situation well in hand, Traygus stepped back a bit and interposed Artax between himself and the viscous spawn. The ancient Thassaloinian preservative magics which had held at bay decay and ruin for ten thousand years, suddenly snapped and the ancient wooden walkway along with it.

Once the sinspawn were defeated the gap in the walk way was traveled with little difficulty. The remaining chambers included only one real combatant: a malformed, three armed goblin that spit showers of filty acidic spew. Shalelu would later identify the corpse as belonging to Korvus, a goblin of some reknown. The library was entirely ruined except for a single slip of parchment containing a single spell.

Perhaps strangest of all was the meditation chamber. A spherical room 15ft in diameter. Several objects float in the room, spinning lazily. A ragged book, a scroll, a bottle of wine, a dead raven surrounded by a halo of floating maggots, and a twisted iron rod with a forked tip. Yet perhaps more unnerving than the contents of the room are its walls, for they are plated in sheets of strange red metal that ripple every once in a while with a silent black electricity that seems to coalesce into strange runes or even words far too often for the effect to be chance.

After clearing the complex out. The party alerted the town elders and sought the aid of Broderick Quink the towns learned sage and speciallist in Thassalonian history. Guiding a group of village potentates into the catacombs below wasn’t the easiest of tasks, but the town elders eventually beheld what had been below there town.



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