Chapter 2: Pyramid of the Dead

[Mant72]

Garrin Locke:

Dangling from the rope, Garrin calls up to the others, "Giant insects! Your help is needed!" He takes aim at the beetle below and plunges with his dagger.

Dexterity Check (9): [1d20] = 13 No "Charge" bonus
To Hit with Dagger: [1d20] = 20; Damage: sm - [1d4] = 2; lg - [1d3] = 3

[hedgeknight]

Roan, Son of Rune

When all of the beetles take flight, Roan's gut clenches and he can no longer ignore the ages long stench of shit and piss. He retches violently, and then retches again at the sight of the barely digested scorpion meat all over the floor and his boots.
Constitution Save (13): [1d20] = 14

"Godsdammit! Which door...(belch)...are you (gag)...talking about?"

[Grognardsw]

Biblo Phyle, libriomancer

"Bugs?" I look at Mako and Arthfael.

I help the druid secure the rope to a large piece of rubble.

[DadsAngry]

Mako:

While Arthfael and Biblo secure the rope Mako crouches down to the edge of the open pit. He then yells down to those below. "We are securing the rope. Climb out as fast as you can!"

[OGRE MAGE]

Wanting nothing to do with getting attacked by over a dozen of these stinking creatures, Gronda thinks about heeding Mako's advice. Too bad the rope is still about 10 feet over her head.
The rope doesn't extend all the way down to us!!! It sure is convenient that none of us have spells to use against these things!!!

She does the only thing that she can do. She uses the two large bodies of those who flank her as human shields, trying to use their bulk to hide her as she pokes out at the giant bugs with her spear. B7

Attack w/ Spear [1d20] = 1 Damage [1d6] = 3 That's the third 1 that I have rolled in a row now. Sometimes this roller is brutal. I think it hates me.

[Inferno]

Day One
The Great Pyramid of the Lost City, Great Eastern Desert, the World of Hyboria
13th day of the month of Yuluk, 1279th year of the Age of Aquilonia
Early Evening. Scorching, arid, cloudless







Deep in the chamber of shit, the crawling, writhing simulacra of diamonds, rubies, bloodstones, sapphires, turquoises, opals, emeralds, amethysts and moonstones sets the floor glowing like the bright pits of hell.

The giant scarabs rise up as one and attack. A flying, swirling chromo-plague is upon the heroes; a maelstrom cascade of hungry, jewel-like predators eager to strip all bones of all flesh. Attila, Gronda, Roan and Loche bleed fresh rubies to add to the colorful spray of stars in this deadly constellation. (-5, -2, -1, -1 hp respectively)

High above, Arthfael the druid ties off the rope on a massive shard of the shattered stone colossus that impaled the leviathan scorpion, and descends into the mysterious pyramid on the dead man’s rope.

Biblo and Mako, now alone in the Great Pyramid’s uppermost tier, hear the trapdoor in the vault open and recognize another survivor of the sandstorm, the giant Kiri Khutan, a son of Kambuja, peering in. (Everyone, please welcome Chubby Pixie to the game. )



Like Attila, Khutan heard the echoing bellow of the leviathan scorpion erupting from the top of the Great Pyramid of the Lost City. He climbed its eastern face with ease due to a woven enchantment (Spider Climb). Now Khutan eyes the carcass of the giant scorpion. Days ago, he had found and butchered a lost caravan camel that bore a casket of fresh water. But he is hungry again. And he is not alone...

Far below them all, in the stone bowels of the mountainous monolith, Garrin the paladin yells up the stone shaft for aid, over the buzzing cacophony of translucent wings. Then he drops down atop a ravenous, flesh-eating scarab (B5).



The Argosian's dagger tears through its chitin exoskeleton, spraying a grey shower of ganglion and unlaid eggs, killing it before its compound eyes ever saw him.

Arthfael of Cimmeria slides down the rope and, dangling from its end, looks down ten feet into the eco-latrine that is alive with fecal matter and soaring scarabs glimmering like dark jewels in the torchlight. The nature priest recognizes the biological circle that has been ingeniously forged here, transforming waste into food through the miraculous giant dung beetles. But forged by whom?

Gronda the savage shouts up the brick shaft to let Biblo and Mako know she can’t reach the rope. She tries to hide behind her allies as her flint spear stabs to no avail against the sparkling rainbow mail of the giant insects.

With two enormous scarabs latched onto his unarmored frame, Attila can't fire a clean thrust with his javelin either.

Overcome by the unimaginable stench, Roan empties his stomach of scorpion meat and water. Fortunately, he doesn't douse his torch. The barbarian roars at Loche, "Godsdammit! Which door...(belch)...are you (gag)...talking about?"

“This one 'ere, boyo! But it’s held tight!” shouts the little Pict above the buzzing din as he frantically tries to break it down... to no avail! "Come queck an' put yer back intae it, fer all our sakes!"




Actions?! Attila, Garrin and Gronda: please Save vs. Con on 1d20 or lose a round retching.


Map:

Pyramid Tier 2.3.jpg (409.5 KiB) Viewed 837 times

One square = 10 feet. PCs are marked by the first letter(s) of their first names. Scarab locations are no longer accurate. Grey letters indicate the dead.


Rolls and Rulings:

Initiative: Party: [1d6] = 3, Monsters: [1d6] = 5 Monsters win.
Scarab attacks on Attila: To hit: [1d20] = 15, [1d20] = 7, [1d20] = 19, [1d20] = 19 Two hit for...
Damage to Attila: [1d4] = 4, [1d4] = 1 5 damage.
Scarab attacks on Gronda: To hit: [1d20] = 2, [1d20] = 14, [1d20] = 12 One hits for...
Damage to Gronda: [1d4] = 2 2 damage.
Scarab attacks on Roan: To hit: [1d20] = 11, [1d20] = 19, [1d20] = 15 One hits for:
Damage to Roan: [1d4] = 1 1 damage.
Scarab attacks on Loche: To hit: [1d20] = 18, [1d20] = 10, [1d20] = 7 One hits for...
Damage to Loche: [1d4] = 1 1 point of damage.
Attila to hit: [1d20] = 1, damage: [1d6] = 4 See what happens when you don't post?
Loche: break down door: (1-2): [1d6] = 5 Nope.

Status:

• Arthfael Griogarach: Cimmerian Northman Druid 2: AC 6, HP 12/12, Spells: 4/4 1st lvl and 2/3 2nd lvl
  Attila: Hyrkanean Nomad Barbarian 1: AC 1, HP 7/12
  Biblo Phyle: Zamoran Southman Cleric/Fighter/Magic-User 1/1/1: AC 3, HP 7/7, Spells: 3/4 1st lvl, Candle
  Garrin Locke: Argosian Atlantean Paladin 1: AC 5, HP 11/11, Laying Hands: 0/1
  Gronda: Zembabweian Savage Ranger/Thief 1/2: AC 7, HP 10/17
  Loche: Pict Savage Thief 3: AC 5, HP 14/18
  Mako: Khitan Easterner Illusionist 2: AC: 7, HP: 6/6, Spells: 1/2 1st lvl
  Roan, Son of Rune: Vanir Northman Barbarian 1: AC 4, HP 3/12, Torch

Magic:

• Protection from Evil (Garrin): -2 to AC and +2 to saving throws against evil, in a 10 foot radius around Garrin.

Resources:

• An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)
  Men of the Hyborian Age (races of men)
  The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
  Hieroglyphs (the story so far, in images)

[hedgeknight]

Roan, Son of Rune

Weak from blood loss and having recently emptied his stomach, Roan chokes down the bile, spits, and staggers in the direction of Locke. Throwing his entire weight against the door, Roan strains until he thinks his nuts will burst to dislodge the door.

Constitution Save (13): [1d20] = 9
Open Door (1-4): [1d6] = 2

[Mant72]

Garrin Locke:

The holy nobleman is completely unaffected by the overpowering stench of excrement. He resheathes his dagger and draws his long blade to hack at the nearest beetle.

Constitution Check (15): [1d20] = 2

-Not sure if Garrin can put away his dagger and swing his long sword in the same round, but here is a "to hit" roll just in case: To Hit with +1 Long Sword: [1d20+1] = 4+1 = 5; Damage: sm - [1d8+1] = 4+1 = 5; lg - [1d12+1] = 6+1 = 7
Should have called it a "to miss roll."

[ChubbyPixie]

S'up, fools?

Kiri drops down onto the mound of sand, his hands abruptly detaching from the stone surface as the last of his climbing spell fizzles. Sensing the end of the dweomer, he manages at least to right himself to avoid landing face first. It wouldn't have been the first time he notes and chuckles to himself.

Anxious for a taste of the alarmingly oversized scorpion, he uncharacteristically rudely grabs a fistful of the arachnid flesh and stuffs it into his mouth as he passes. Normally politeness would dictate he introduce himself first, but circumstances being what they are, he thinks the strangers will understand.

Scrubbing his hands with a bit of sand as he approaches, he thinks these two look vaguely familiar - fellow sorcerer types, if he's not mistaken - one a fellow Easterner. He squares his huge mass up, places his palms together and gives a slight nod. "I'm Kiri," he says, then glances down at the shaft from which the frantic yelling and buzzing sounds emanate. "...need some help?"

[DadsAngry]

Mako:

Surprised by the newcomer he whirls around with his quarterstaff at the ready. He lowers his guard a little as he watches his fellow kins man fill his belly with scorpion. Still cautious of the newcomer as he approaches he doesn't take an aggressive stance. He demeanor seems friendly so Mako replies.
"I am Mako and this is Biblo." motioning to Biblo.

"...need some help?"

"Ah Yes, the other with us have foolishly descended to their deaths." points to the open pit with the limp rope. "The rope is to short for them to climb back out to safety."

[Zhym]

I didn't think Arthfael was going to climb all the way down, though I see now how my post could be read that way.

If anyone has another rope, Arthfael could tie it to the other one to give everyone enough rope to climb back up.

[OGRE MAGE]

Con save (16) [1d20] = 20 Of course!!!

Gronda drops to her knees and barfs out some scorpion along with some other chunks, adding to the slick disgusting goo scattered all over the floor.

She badly wants to have a look at the door that she has just noticed behind them but the stench of this colossal toilet makes her whole face hurt.

[Grognardsw]

Biblo Phyle, libriomancer

Hearing the cry that the rope is short, I quickly get my own rope (reputedly made of the black vine of the rare strangler trees of Kush marshes.) I tie my rope around the ruin, knot it around Arthfael's rope, then untie the druid's rope.

"There is more rope!" I yell down.

"Bugs. I'm not fond of bugs," I mutter to Mako.

"Greetings Kiri."

[Starbeard]

Attila the Nomad

"This is not so foul a smell. You should smell the goats of my tribe after a spring rain! Haha—agh! I have bugs on my arm!"

Attila drops his javelin into the muck and brandishes his dagger, stabbing away at the large beetles with abandon.

Dagger (ThAC0 20) [1d20] = 19, Damage [1d4] = 2 (vs. Large [1d3] = 1)

Con save 14: [1d20] = 10

[Inferno]

I didn't think Arthfael was going to climb all the way down, though I see now how my post could be read that way.

Ok. Will alter my post to reflect that Arthfael doesn't let go of the rope.

Also, Chub, the sand mound was obliterated when the scorpion under it emerged. But there's a rope in place that Kiri can use to descend into the Pyramid.

[Inferno]

Day One
The Great Pyramid of the Lost City, Great Eastern Desert, the World of Hyboria
13th day of the month of Yuluk, 1279th year of the Age of Aquilonia
Evening. Scorching, arid, cloudless






Kiri Khutan descends into the cool shadows of the mysterious pyramid of the ancients. He exchanges greetings with Biblo and Mako and, by the flickering candlelight, sees one of the stone colossi from the zenith impaled through the cadaver of a gigantic scorpion. From the open trapdoor in the floor, he hears cries for help and a rushing hum as Biblo works to lengthen the rope leading down into the dark trapdoor shaft.



Kiri recognizes some of the voices as former fellow caravan guards.

Near the bottom of that stone shaft, Arthfael climbs up the suddenly lowering rope to avoid the jaws of the giant, flesh eating scarabs.



Lower still, in the stone bowels of the pyramid, Gronda of Zembabawei empties her guts of scorpion meat, water and cooked human flesh.

Garrin of Argos sees a rope slither down near him as he changes weapons and his long blade crashes off a sparkling, impregnable shell.(B2)

Attila the nomad's dagger whispers from its sheath. It slashes savagely with a blur of silver and another giant beetle falls like ripe grain beneath the scythe. (B7)

As Loche covers Roan, the shimmering kaleidoscopic swarm of ravenous mandibles and shrieking wings fills the air, trying to devour them all alive.



The cloud of flesh eating scarabs gruesomely ingest more of Garrin and Gronda! (-4hp and -2hp respectively)

Roan the barbarian notices that Loche had removed a bar from the southwest portal before trying to open it. The massive Vanir barbarian lowers his shoulder and throws himself at the door, splintering it open. His momentum carries him to fresher air and a raw, stone stairway up into waiting darkness.



Roan sees the door had been barricaded from this side.

Loche shouts above the deafening drone of insects: "Well done, boyo. Bloody exit's right 'ere, lads! Let's goet the hell out o' this damned shite hole!"


Actions?!


Map:

Pyramid Tier 2.4.jpg (421.83 KiB) Viewed 796 times

One square = 10 feet. PCs are marked by the first letter(s) of their first names. Scarab locations are no longer accurate. Grey letters indicate the dead.
Arthfael is directly above Garrin (Ga).


Rolls and Rulings:

Only one Con save per PC is needed to avoid retching. I'll request them.
Initiative: Party: [1d6] = 6, Monsters: [1d6] = 1 Party wins.
Loche attacks: [1d20] = 14, [1d20] = 12, damage: [1d4] = 1, [1d4] = 1 Both miss.
Scarabs attack Garrin: [1d20] = 11, [1d20] = 7, [1d20] = 19 One hits for...
Damage to Garrin: [1d4] = 4 4 points.
Scarabs attack Attila: [1d20] = 4, [1d20] = 9, [1d20] = 1 All miss.
Scarabs attack Gronda: [1d20] = 14, [1d20] = 12 One hits for...
Damage to Gronda: [1d4] = 2 2 points.
Scarabs attack Loche: [1d20] = 9, [1d20] = 2, [1d20] = 11 All miss.

Status:

• Arthfael Griogarach: Cimmerian Northman Druid 2: AC 6, HP 12/12, Spells: 4/4 1st lvl and 2/3 2nd lvl
  Attila: Hyrkanean Nomad Barbarian 1: AC 1, HP 7/12
  Biblo Phyle: Zamoran Southman Cleric/Fighter/Magic-User 1/1/1: AC 3, HP 7/7, Spells: 3/4 1st lvl, Candle
  Garrin Locke: Argosian Atlantean Paladin 1: AC 5, HP 7/11, Laying Hands: 0/1
  Gronda: Zembabweian Savage Ranger/Thief 1/2: AC 7, HP 8/17
  Kiri Khutan: Kambujan Easterner Fighter/Magic-User 1/1: AC 4, HP 7/7, Spells: 1/2 1st lvl
  Loche: Pict Savage Thief 3: AC 5, HP 14/18
  Mako: Khitan Easterner Illusionist 2: AC: 7, HP: 6/6, Spells: 1/2 1st lvl
  Roan, Son of Rune: Vanir Northman Barbarian 1: AC 4, HP 3/12, Torch

Magic:

• Protection from Evil (Garrin): -2 to AC and +2 to saving throws against evil, in a 10 foot radius around Garrin.

Resources:

• An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)
  Men of the Hyborian Age (races of men)
  The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
  Hieroglyphs (the story so far, in images)

[Mant72]

Garrin Locke:

"Make for the exit! I will cover our egress," Garrin shouts over the cacophony of membranous wings. The warrior of Mitra brandishes his blade as he backs away from the beetles, trying to keep them at bay.

[hedgeknight]

Roan, Son of Rune

Bloodied and exhausted, stomach still roiling from the stench of the room, Roan gulps in stale air and urges his companions up the steps. "Come on! Hurry before the shit eaters kill us all!"
He stands just behind Garrin, axe in hand, pushing the others past him up the steps. "Reckon the bugs will follow us? How we gonna block this hole?" he asks.

[Grognardsw]

"Are they coming up?" I ask Arthfael.

I feel for tension on the rope.

[Zhym]

"Climb up!" calls Arthfael, who then proceeds to follow his own advice.