The Ashblood Colony, The Dark Mountains, Gran March, Greyhawk
Day Thirty-seven. Afternoon. Saturday, December 17th, 576 CY
Cold, overcast
That afternoon, the doomed heroes allow themselves to enjoy the simple pleasures of a warm and heartfelt feast.
And then everything goes wrong.
At the banquet in their honor, a strange paralysis overtakes them.
Frozen with eyes wide open, they can only watch as the merry festivities slowly cease and the dissenters of Pelor end the charade. The children of the colony are quietly ushered away. Amity too.
"But they saved Amity! Must we, Reverend?" pleads John Mantle.
Reverend Ashblood replies without pleasure, "I'm terribly sorry, John. But I'm afraid so. Our sacred duty to Our God is greater than to ourselves and our petty wants - even greater than to our children. He knows what is best. But we shalt always honour and remember what they did for Amity, and what they shalt do for Him. Now come, everyone. Lift them up."
"'Tis our holy responsibility," Temperance Hill reminds John Mantle.
The congregation carries the heroes out in a solemn procession, borne outside beneath bare branches and the darkening sky some distance through the woods to an ancient church on a hill.
Its architecture and age are those of times long gone by, before the founding of Gran March when this land was the seat of the empire of Vecna the Dark Lord.
The secret church is clearly consecrated to Saint Pentival, an ancient paladin of Pelor, legendary foe of Acererak and founder of the mysterious Order of the Knights of the March. Legends tell that Pentival was brutally martyred long ago at the wicked hands of the vile servants of Vecna.
The helpless heroes are carried inside...
...and into a hidden room that holds a great stone pit.
The doomed heroes are gently, chastely stripped of all their earthly possessions except their undergarments and lowered into the pit on wooden stretchers, ropes and pulleys apparently built for this very purpose. At the bottom of the deep shaft is a dank chamber, 30 feet square, fashioned of stone bricks and lit by two torches in wall sconces. Four tunnels branch out, one from each wall. The stricken heroes are laid in the center of the floor in a thick wet slime.
The dissenters of Pelor raise themselves from the pit, pull up the ropes and stretchers and gather high above, looking down as if from a gallery. Reverend Gideon Ashblood says with genuine sincerity, "I am truly sorry for what is about to happen. Our prayers art with thou." Then he earnestly leads the congregation in ancient hymns honoring Saint Pentival.
Minutes pass this way. Maybe hours. The paralysis leaves the heroes and they can move again, speak again! But they are without weapons or even ingredients for their magicks!
The Reverend Gideon Ashblood strikes a gong and the congregation steps back, out of view, but their singing can still be heard.
Suddenly, from what might be the southern tunnel, comes the distant echo of a dreadful slithering!
Actions?! (and please read this!)
PC Status:
Ingrid Esthof, Human Cleric 5: Move: 12", AC: 10, HP: 25/25, Spells: 5/5 1st lvl, 5/5 2nd lvl, 2/2 3rd lvl
Jerome, Human Paladin 3: Move: 12", AC: 10, HP: 20/20, Laying Hands: 1/1
Long Bo, Human Druid 5: Move: 12", AC: 9, HP: 38/38, Spells: 6/6 1st lvl, 4/4 2nd lvl, 2/2 3rd lvl
Telkis Brassfang, Gnome Fighter 4: Move: 12", AC: 6, HP: 34/34
Urdur Shimmerstone, Gnome Illusionist 4: Move: 12", AC: 7, HP: 11/11, Spells: 3/3 1st lvl, 2/2 2nd lvl
PC Magic:
Player Resources: