Chapter 23: The Grave of Empire

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

With an exhausted sigh, Dahinna falls to her knees, the torch flickering overhead. She grits her teeth as she cries. Her eyes are closed and her mind wanders...and she is running through the streets of her home, her bare feet splashing in dirty puddles from a fresh spring rain. A hot loaf of bread is burning her fingers but she doesn't care. She knows her family will eat well tonight, and the baker won't miss the loaf.
"Can't catch me!" she squeals, dodging common folk on the street. Ducking into an alley that smells of rotten vegetables, Dahinna darts through a section of wall that looks like the rest of the wall around it, but in fact it is only a sheet of cloth painted to resemble a wall. Down a dark corridor and then a right and a left, through another false wall, and she is in a small room with three pallets and a single candle. Her mother and her little brother are here. Her mother sighs at the sight of the loaf, which is still warm. She offers Mitra a blessing and breaks the loaf and feeds small pieces of it to her son, while Dahinna gnaws on a large piece of her own. She watches her little brother chew, smiling at her. She smiles back and then looks away because she does not want to see how sick he is; she knows the number of ribs in her brother's stomach because she has counted them many times while he's slept, and he's getting weaker by the day.
Her mother never asks where Dahinna got the bread, never asks how she got away with it. She doesn't have to. Dahinna always tells her. "I never get caught, mother. I'm too quick! No need to worry. They'll never catch me. Never not ever."

Dahinna sniffs and opens her eyes, not bothering to wipe her face. She stands and takes one step forward, and then she stops...about five feet from the bodies of her companions. "The Oracle...she named me the Handmaiden of Graves. If that is indeed who I am, will Thanatos grant me control over those gone to the grave? My life for the lives of my friends. That is what I wish. Is that what you offer me, o' silent specter?"

[Inferno]

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Late Morning? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







Dahinna's life flashes before her eyes. She falls to her knees and bargains not for herself, but for others.

"My life for the lives of my friends. That is what I wish. Is that what you offer me, o' silent specter?"

But the macabre revenant offers only death. Whether or not Dahinna accepts that fate, Fate shall not be denied.

The charnel horror suddenly lunges toward her!


Actions, Dahinna?!


Map Detail:

One square = 10 feet. Lighter area is visible. All else is from memory.





PC Status:

Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 5: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 18/25, Torch

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

It seems...for a few seconds...the specter hesitates, and Dahinna holds her breath in anticipation. When the creature lunges at her, however, she exhales in a hiss and gets to her feet. "Never, not ever!" she screams slashing at the undead with her short sword.
Short Sword: [1d20+2]=18+2=20 Damage [1d6+2]=2+2=4

"Never, not ever!" as she jabs the torch at the horror's clothing.
(Don't think she gets another attack, so this is just for effect. )

[Inferno]

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Late Morning? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







In the chapel of Thanatos, death has come for Dahinna, last of the explorers of Thracia.

Before she can rise from her knees, the grisly thing of ancient graveyards is upon her!

Its boney hand reaches for her face and the little thief screams, "Never, not ever!" as she narrowly evades its grasp! Her short blade comes about in a shimmering arc and shatters two fleshless ribs!

She has wounded it.


Actions, Dahinna?!


Map Detail:

One square = 10 feet. Lighter area is visible. All else is from memory.

Behind the DM Screen:

Initiative: Party: [1d6]=5, Monsters: [1d6]=6 Monsters win.
X7 charges Dahinna: [1d20+2]=6+2=8 Misses!

PC Status:

Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 5: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 18/25, Torch

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

"Get away from me!" she shrieks, swiping feebly at the undead servant of Thanatos.
Short Sword: [1d20+2]=1+2=3 Damage [1d6+2]=5+2=7

[Inferno]

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Late Morning? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







In the tight obsidian corridor, Dahinna slashes her enchanted sword and glittering light runs down its peerless blade.

Instinctively trying to disembowel the skeletal cadaver, she stabs only an empty cavity.

Then the timeless thing of death and horror seizes her and Dahinna feels a piercing chill wrack her very soul. Cold like never before and an all-consuming emptiness as her life starts to slip away!

(loses 2hp and 1 Level)


Actions, Dahinna?!


Map Detail:

One square = 10 feet. Lighter area is visible. All else is from memory.

Behind the DM Screen:

Initiative: Party: [1d6]=2, Monsters: [1d6]=2 A tie.
X7 attacks Dahinna: [1d20]=14 Hits.
Damage to Dahinna: [1d4]=1. Loss of level causes HP loss: [1d6]=1

PC Status:

Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 4: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 16/24, Torch

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

"AAAAAHHHH!"
Dahinna's scream reverberates up and down the hall as her life force is sucked away! She twists and turns, trying to dislodge herself from the specter's claws. "I am the Handmaiden of Graves! How dare you touch me!"
Dahinna jabs and stabs at the specter with her short sword, punctuating her words. "Get...off...me...spawn...of hell!"
Short Sword: [1d20+2]=11+2=13 Damage [1d6+2]=5+2=7

[Inferno]

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Late Morning? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







In mounting panic, little Dahinna screams and swings wildly as she twists free from the icy clutches of death!


Actions, Dahinna?! (please post for two rounds of actions)


Map Detail:

One square = 10 feet. Lighter area is visible. All else is from memory.

Behind the DM Screen:

Initiative: Party: [1d6]=4, Monsters: [1d6]=3 Dahinna wins.
X7 attacks Dahinna: [1d20]=1 Misses. No fumbles in this game.

PC Status:

Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 4: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 16/24, Torch

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

Twisting away from the undead horror, Dahinna jabs and stabs and slashes at the creature. At this point she is nearly hysterical, tears blur her vision, snot drips from her nose, her jaw aches from gritting her teeth. She ducks, dodges, and dances away, all the while trying desperately to survive. "Mitra help me!"

Short Sword: [1d20+2]=2+2=4 Damage [1d6+2]=5+2=7
Short Sword: [1d20+2]=19+2=21 Damage [1d6+2]=2+2=4

[Yrkoon]

Cruloc

The Cimmerian's soul stands at the threshold of a grey, misty realm of clouds and icy winds. Here, he will wander cheerlessly throughout eternity.

Far behind, muted sounds of battle and female screams echo. He turns to listen.

[Inferno]

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Late Morning? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







The fleshless hand of the necromantic horror grips Dahinna's pale throat and a harrowing wave of grave-chill passes through her once more.

(loses 3hp and 1 more Level)

Her flailing blade rings on the obsidian wall, spraying blue sparks.

"Mitra help me!"

Against her frantic struggling, the living cadaver does not let go. Her soul is being devoured by its cold, charnel touch.

(loses 7hp and 1 more Level)

Her face a mask of terror, Dahinna defiantly drives her short sword into its empty eye socket, wounding it again, but not killing it.

From her tear-filled eyes, behind the dread figure, she barely perceives another; one which Amethu and Zahra had half-glimpsed before.



Then, it had come for Iago. Now it comes for her.


Actions, Dahinna?! (please post for two rounds of actions)


Map Detail:

One square = 10 feet. Lighter area is visible. All else is from memory.

Behind the DM Screen:

Initiative: Party: [1d6]=3, Monsters: [1d6]=4 Monster wins.
X7 attacks Dahinna: [1d20]=17 Hits.
Damage to Dahinna: [1d4]=2, Loss of level causes HP loss: [1d6]=1

Next round: Initiative: Party: [1d6]=3, Monsters: [1d6]=4 Monster wins.
X7 attacks Dahinna: [1d20]=16 Hits.
Damage to Dahinna: [1d4]=2, Level loss causes loss of HP: [1d6]=5

PC Status:

Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 2: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 6/18, Torch

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

A thin wheeze comes from the rogue's throat as she sees the avatar of her doom. "M-mother..." she manages to gasp as she jabs at the specter holding her. She knows this is the end, but she doesn't give in. She fights, just like she fought every day on the streets to stay alive. She kicks, the claws, she'd bite the hand that holds her if she could. She drops her torch at the creature's feet, hoping to catch its robes afire, while she slashes and stabs with her little sword. She won't give in. Never, not ever.

Short Sword: [1d20+2]=5+2=7 Damage [1d6+2]=3+2=5
Short Sword: [1d20+2]=19+2=21 Damage [1d6+2]=2+2=4

[Inferno]

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Late Morning? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







The end has come. But Dahinna will not yield.

Within sight of the looming harbinger of Death, Dahinna desperately tries to kill that which is already dead.

The more frantic her flailing becomes, the more calm her macabre murderer grows. Skeletal hand at her throat, the life is going out of her.

(loses 5hp and 1 more Level. Has 1hp left.)

Dahinna's weakened hand drops her torch and the living cadaver's shroud, as dry as dead leaves, catches fire. The grisly revenant casts off its burning raiment as Dahinna suddenly thrusts her enchanted sword into it a third time, smiting it dead!

Its bones fall to the floor in a clatter and it shrieks its death knell as Dahinna's stolen life essence writhes out of it like a vapor on a fell wind.



Dahinna feels her soul restored! (Regains lost levels, and HP reduction from lost levels.) She hears Gnasher whimpering in the darkness.

The ancient horror is dead. The spectral avatar of Thanatos is gone.

Unrelenting in the face of certain doom, Dahinna has defeated death.


Actions, Dahinna and Gnasher?!


Map Detail:

One square = 10 feet. Lighter area is visible. All else is from memory.

Behind the DM Screen:

Initiative: Party: [1d6]=3, Monsters: [1d6]=5 Monster wins.
X7 attacks Dahinna: [1d20]=18 Hits.
Damage to Dahinna: [1d4]=2, Level loss causes loss of HP: [1d6]=3
Does dropped torch go out? (1-2): [1d6]=6 No.
Dahinna attacks with two weapons. Torch to hit: [1d20-1]=18-1=17 Hits!
Fire damage to X7: [1d6]=1

Next round: Initiative: Party: [1d6]=5, Monsters: [1d6]=4 Dahinna wins.

PC Status:

Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 1: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 11/25, Torch at feet
Gnasher: Grigor's Hound: Move: 12", AC: 5, HD: 2+2, HP: 3/11, AT: 1, D: 1-4

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

Gasping for breath, tears burst from her eyes and she squeezes them shut and allows herself a few seconds to cry. Gritting her teeth, she opens her eyes, wiping her face and her nose on her arm. She picks up her torch and looks around on the floor for the one Kiri's "grandfather" was carrying. If she finds it, she will stuff it in her belt. She looks for the torch Cruloc was carrying and if it is within reach, she will grab it too.
"Gnasher! C'mere boy! C'mere! Come, come!" she calls into the room of the dead. "We need to get out of here," she says to the dog as much as to herself. Holding one arm across her mouth and nose, she begins retracing her exact steps, hugging the wall, facing the wall, not looking as she moves back toward the corridor they came in on. Holding the torch over her head, she moves swiftly, as swiftly as she can, holding her breath...praying silently to Mitra for grace and safety.

[Inferno]

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Late Morning? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







Among the splayed skull and bones, Dahinna weeps tears of relief.

She reaches for Cruloc's torch and finds the Cimmerian still draws breath!


Actions, Dahinna and Gnasher?!





PC Status:

Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 1: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 11/25, Torch
Gnasher: Grigor's Hound: Move: 12", AC: 5, HD: 2+2, HP: 3/11, AT: 1, D: 1-4

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[Bluetongue]

Gnasher

sorry, I thought he was already dead.

The dog comforts Dahinna, wagging his tail. He then goes to Master, to give him a final goodbye lick.

[hedgeknight]

Dahinna

She reaches for Cruloc's torch and finds the Cimmerian still draws breath!

"Holy shit!" she hisses, jumping back, thinking the Cimmerian may be rising from the dead! She hesitates for a few seconds, considers jabbing him with her sword, but then moves forward and grabs him by the boot and tries to drag him into the corridor. "Gnasher! Help me boy!"
As she attempts to drag the barbarian out of the death circle, she calls to him, "Cruloc! Cruloc answer me! Death hasn't claimed you yet, you bull-headed Cimmerian! Wake up!"

[Inferno]

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Afternoon? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







Near the remains of the deathless cadaver, little Dahinna struggles to move the massive barbarian. After much time and much toil, she's dragged him near the door when suddenly, Cruloc and their companions begin to awaken!

Miraculously, they all yet live!

The skeptics among them may be inclined to think that the incense was part of some ancient sacrament of suicide partaken by the long-dead, shrouded worshippers. Over centuries uncounted, the lethal incense had lost its potency, inducing slumber now instead of death.

The superstitious among them might believe that the explorers had died, struck down by the God of Death for desecrating His holy shrine. And now they are returned from the grave as undead servants of Thanatos, as was foretold by the sacred Oracle.

But all of the explorers know the Oracle had told them where lies the object of their quest: "Deathly acolyte, what thou seeks lies west and far below. The Library at Thracia, which hath become the Palace of the Minotaur King."
Instead of heeding her prophecy, they ventured deeper into eldritch territories of necromancy and shadow, nearly costing them their lives.


Actions, everyone?!


Map Detail:

One square = 10 feet. Lighter areas are visible. All else is from memory.

Map:






PC Status:

Amethu: Verulian Grand Magus Cleric/Magic-User 4/3: Move: 9", AC: 4, HP: 17/17, Spells: 7/8 1st lvl, 5/5 2nd lvl
Cruloc: Cimmerian Northman Barbarian 3: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 32/45
Dahinna: Zamoran Southwoman Thief 1: Move: 12", AC: 4, HP: 11/25, Torch
Grigor: Zamoran Nomad Cleric/Fighter 3/3: Move: 9", AC: 1, HP: 21/29, Spells: 1/4 1st lvl, 2/2 2nd lvl
Kiri Khutan: Kambujan Easterner Fighter/Magic-User 3/3: Move: 9", AC: 3, HP: 20/21, Spells: 2/3 1st lvl, 1/1 2nd lvl
Torix: Pict Savage Barbarian 3: Move: 12", AC: 2, HP: 28/28, Unsettled
Zahra: Verulian Amazon Fighter 4: Move: 12", AC: 1, HP: 24/29, Unsettled
Gnasher: Grigor's Hound: Move: 12", AC: 5, HD: 2+2, HP: 3/11, AT: 1, D: 1-4

PC Magic:

None currently.

Player Resources:

The Struggle To Survive (the story so far)
Mysteries Strange and Deadly (player clues and notes)
An Age Undreamed Of (maps and realms of the World of Hyboria)

[jemmus]

Torix comes to consciousness slowly. He had been at the very core of his heart and his memories. He had had a realization. His grandfather, who had always favored his cousin of the same age over him and never paid much attention to him, had cared for after all. He had directed the shaman and his uncles to tattoo him with the circles within circles tattoos. For the first time, Torix understood that they charted the movement of the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars. And that the straight lines and crosses were for the alignment of the equinoxes and solstices. And the spirals of the triskelions, for the way the energy on Earth moves, and the way a fingernail or ram's horn grows and the water of a stream flows. Always different, and yet always the same over the eons.

He realized that grandpa did indeed care for him. In a Pict warrior-shaman kind of way. Mothers love and discipline their children. Grandfathers love and care for their offspring, and the children of their offspring. It is their duty. And the grandson's duty to his own grandchildren as well.

Torix's heart slowly rose up to its surface. He looked up and around, and smelled again the smell of the sickening incense. He recollected where he was. The pews with the shrouded skeletons, and the shoes and standing ankle bones at eye level. "Somehow, I'm alive. Or trapped in the death god's circles and spirals of illusion. How does a person escape being a servant of the god of death?" He wipes the thought from his mind, for fear that the god might be listening, and determined that he would make a plan for escape.

The horrid chapel is lit by a flickering torch from somewhere. The shadows of pews and hunched bodies play across the far wall. The tattooed Pict rises to one elbow, discovers drool soaking on side of his beard, and wipes it away with the back of his hand. He wonders what kind of miraculous events might have happen when he down and about dead. The Pict mumbles, Get up, Torix. Get your shoulders above your knees. Surely your help will needed. And soon.

[Yrkoon]

Cruloc

Cruloc is instantly awake, on his feet, and brandishing a yard of Thracian steel! The boon of civilisation has granted those in the sheltered southlands little more than dulled senses and flabby buttocks. To rise slowly from slumber is to invite death - a lesson that inattentive Aquilonian frontier soldiers have been repeatedly taught by the pitiless Cimmerian hordes.

Wild-eyed and alert for the sounds of battle he perceived while comatose, he instinctively regards the Zamoran as a threat. Remembering the womanish shouts from his dreams, however, he stays his sword arm. Only now does he pause to behold the brave, wretched, traumatised wreck that is Dahinna. Her eyes are red and swollen with tears, and mucus is smeared across her uncommonly pale face. He cannot know the ordeal she has endured, but its harrowing effects are vividly painted on her countenance and trembling form. The Cimmerian has seen shock before. A hand is placed on her forearm as a comforting gesture, although his eyes remain intense.

"Dahinna... Your valour penetrated the icy shroud between this world and the land of Crom. I heard you. And if He did not, I will tell him about it when I meet him next."

Cruloc's expression softens. "Hearken. The others stir. On your feet, girl. A hero does not accept acclaim from her knees." Catching her elbow, he helps her up.