Grand Seal

Deeper into the Kobold Den

After a few hours of rest the party continued further into the den of the Kobolds, Oartha in the lead scouting ahead and Tezl at the back guarding the flank they dug deeper into the cave. Torches lining the walls of the hallway as the cave moss is all but gone, they realize that this is no longer the cave they believed it was, but rather a well disguised temple. The further down the winding hallway they press the more overpowering the stench of death.

“Perhaps this is a long forgotten tomb of sorts,” Tezl warns as she follows walking backwards with torch in hand.

“Aye, but obviously not too long forgotten if those damn Kobolds found it. This stone seems to be well cut, though. I don’t think they had any part in the construction, damned squatters,” says Brinbar.

As they reach the end of the hallway, they come upon Oartha standing in front of a wooden door. Looking up and seeing the party he signals for silence as he stays listening at the doorway.

“It sounds like stone scraping against stone in there,” Oartha whispers. “I’m not sure what the hell it is. I don’t think it is kobolds though, I haven’t heard one yelp or anything since I’ve been listening.”

“Well, let us go then. We will not get to the bottom of this standing around,” grunts Rum.

Oartha moves from in front of the door, “After you then big guy.” Rum takes a step back and charges the door down, hoping to surprise whatever was scraping the stone. As he regains his composure, a skeletal hand brings a sword down. As it swings through the air, the sword makes a soft humming noise. Just before the sword would strike, the skeleton wielding it is knocked backwards by an arrow striking it in the skull.

“Undead, great… I love undead,” Tezl says as she knocks another arrow.

“Don’t worry lass,” Brinbar says as he takes hold of the Symbol of Pelor on his chest, “the light of Pelor shall protect us from these foul beasts.” As he says this his symbol shines, but he is tackled by Oartha. Just as he hits the ground and is ready to strike his friend, he sees the fangs of a giant snake dug into the ground where he was last standing. “Thanks lad, you saved my arse back there.”

“Don’t mention it dwarf, ever,” he says as he rolls off.

Angrily, the viper begins rattling its tail as it pulls its fangs from the ground. And strikes towards the dragonborn. “Brinbar, take care of the skeletons while I keep this thing at bay.”

Just as before, the cleric brandishes his holy symbol, “PELOR’S WRATH BE GREAT!” As he says these words the symbol shines brightly and Holy light shines from within each of the skeletons before reducing the skeletons to dust in an explosion. “It’s done, praise be to Pelor,” he whispers in a prayer, before turning his attention towards the viper.

A blast of eldritch energy catches the viper and knocks its head up. Seeing his opening, Rum drives his shield upward and forces the viper nearly airborn. As he does this a twin attack from both Tezl and Oartha’s blades slash through the viper’s body, and Rum brings his warhammer down upon the beast’s head sending it crashing to the ground.

“Well that was fun,” Oartha says as he lifts the sword from the skeleton off the ground with a kick of his foot. As he touches the blade with both hands, it splits apart and creates two similar blades. “Cool, why couldn’t it have been daggers. Heads up Tezl.” And he throws the blades at Tezl who catches both blades. “Ooh, neat!” she says while spinning the blades in her hand.

“Comon, lets go. With a guardian like that, we have to be getting close to the end of this temple.” Rum walks to the front of the group. “I better take point from now on Oartha. I’m not sure how worthwhile stealth is gonna be now.”

With the paladin in the lead, the group makes its way further into the temple. After a few empty areas they finally come upon another door. “Shhh,” Rum warns, “I hear some Draconic chanting.”

“Do you know what they are saying Rum?” Oartha whispers as he draws his newly-found dagger from it’s sheath.

“Kind of, it is a dialect I am not exactly familiar with. Maybe some sort of ancient Draconic. I can understand bits and pieces though. Something about the “dark prince.”

“Orcus? This cannot be good, lad. We need te get in there and stop ‘em. Squash out these cultists before they git outta hand.” As Brinbar says this he is clutching his holy symbol tightly in his gloved hands.

Plimsol steps forwards towards the door, hands glowing with eldritch energy. “This I agree with, short one. The Raven Queen desires these cultists snuffed out, and in her name we shall.”

Suddenly the chanting stops and the ear piercing noise of stone scraping on stone, followed by four loud slams and rocks crumbling.

Still standing near the doorway Plimsol peers into the room. “One of the kobolds in the room is raising these skeletons we’ve been fighting. He must be their leader.”

“Well then, we have our mark, let’s make sure to end this threat now. In Bahamut’s name, the undead shall be destroyed.” As he finishes his prayer, he kicks open the doorway to a large chamber.

The burial chamber is quite large and highly decorated. Torches lining the walls and two braziers beside a makeshift altar provide more than enough for even those without good vision to see clearly. A kobold wearing robes and carrying a very ornately designed staff is standing over the altar in the center of the room. Beside him stands two other kobolds each holding spears and javelins, both visibly frightened by the door suddenly bursting into the room.



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