Frog-pocalypse

Think this... but the size
of your dishwasher.

Our intrepid heroes have shrugged off their collective reservations and begun their descent into the depths of the earth. Coming across the remains of a fellow traveler did nothing to shake their resolve, but the sudden appearance of huge hound-sized frogs has given the party something to ponder. A melee ensues...

The cries of men and clash of arms are punctuated by a horrific croaking as the party pulls together for the common defense. Nyatar begins chanting, calling upon the righteous might of Horus and wielding his sickle-sword, as Furok skillfully slices into the ranks of outsized amphibians. The rest of the band is not quite as effective - Napoleon's arrows fly wide; Archibald's hammer cracks repeatedly against the walls and flagstones; torch-bearer Jake's screams are punctuated by a cloud of sparks as he flails wildly with the party's only light source. Of the others, only Hoko the lawyer/mage finds a measure of success, digging into the wriggling frog-flesh with his long knife.

In the end, the party catches its collective breath and surveys the field (or corridor) of battle: three giant frogs lie dead, one lies smooshed beneath Furok's shield, and a fifth lies dead at the bottom of the eighty-foot shaft that borders the stairway that winds downwards. Basking in the evidence of their own superiority, the party heads down the sloping passage towards the first landing, a quarter-revolution around the hole's perimeter.

They are met by a door that has neither key nor latch, surrounded by an ornate enameled entryway decorated with strange symbols in an unknown language. Hoko and Napoleon scribble furiously, copying down the writing. Some deft crowbar work and a little elbow-grease from Furok and Nyatar are sufficient to pry the door open and wedge it; after an initial hissing rush of stale air, a dark passageway extends before the group. With the elven burglar tapping inexpertly at the floor with the pommel of his knife and peering into corners, the party creeps down the deathly-silent corridor until they reach a "T" junction, with another strange latch-less door in front of them.

Following a brief debate, the group opts to pry open the door directly ahead of them. Inside, there are two stone chests and small empty sconces for oil-lamps; to the right lies an empty doorway, opening into a much larger chamber. Plunder fever washes over the party, and Archibald's half-hearted admonishments fall upon deaf ears. The chests are broken open to reveal a meager hoard: a scant hundred gold pieces and about double that number in silver and copper, all coins being of a strange hexagonal shape and bearing the same bizarre script from the initial doorway to this level.

From the chests, all eyes turn to the chamber beyond. Nyatar, Hoko and Napoleon lead the way into the chamber, with the rest of the group following. A cursory glance shows a number of skeletons scattered across the floor by the door, with a number of others chained to the walls. More than a dozen large stone boxes are neatly arranged across the floor of the cavernous room, with another huge box on top of a stone dais. Nyatar heads for the dais, while Hoko and Napoleon examine the skeletons.

At this point, two things occur nearly simultaneously:

• A horrid grinding noise comes from the doorway into the inner chamber as a huge stone slab come slamming down into the opening... as Jake is halfway through the doorway. His eyes bulge in horror and he makes to leap forward - but he stumbles, unsure whether to go forward or back. There is a hoarse cry, a loud crunch, followed by silence and darkness as the slab crushes both Jake and the party's only lit torch.
• The darkness within the inner chamber last but a moment before it is replaced with a cold unnatural illumination. A pallid blue glow emanates from sixteen pair of empty eye sockets as the skeletons all rise from the floor. Eleven of them begin yanking madly at their rusty chains, threatening to break free from the wall, while the five unfettered skeletons begin to advance.

Hoko and Napoleon draw their arms and move back-to-back to protect one another. Nyatar draws his sickle-sword and begins to chant his praises to Horus... His words almost freeze upon his lips as he glances back over his shoulder, certain that the stone slab covering the large sarcophagus on the dais is beginning to move...

Back on the horse

Yeah, it's been a long time since I last published, and I'd almost given it up. But I felt bad about leaving the story half- (or less) told, just in case somebody was following along.

So I'm going to strive to get current over the next week or so, cuz there's some crazy sh*t that's been happening in the game...

Geography lesson

So, in the interest of gradually (i.e. much too slowly) illuminating the world that I've thrust my players into, I though that I'd give the broad-stroke background.

(Incidentally, until I'm able to get a map loaded on here, a narrative description will have to suffice...)

Yrth (imaginative, no?) is a world like many others in the multiverse of Prime Material planes, with a broad range of climate zones. A world-sea surrounds the single major continent, which coils round the globe roughly southeast-to-northwest. The northwest portion extends up into the arctic circle, while the southeast portion wraps beneath it in the southern hemisphere and enfolds an almost entirely-enclosed inner sea roughly the size of Africa. The northwest portion of the uber-continent is known as the "head" of the world-serpent, while the curling southeast portion is its "tail".

The territories that make up the region of Wilusa lie in the northwest of the super-continent, along the northern edge of the White Sea; to continue the anthropomorphic metaphor, Wilusa lies at the "jaw-line" of the world-serpent's "head". The major city-states lie along the coastline at a latitude of around 55 to 60 degrees north, roughly the same as Juneau (Alaska), Oslo, Stockholm, and Edinburgh. The winters are harsh, to be sure, but the extremely high range of mountains that surrounds the region (the "Teeth of Ymir"), combined with the relatively mild influence of the ocean to the south, creates a passable growing season. Indeed, winters in Wilusa are far less hellish than those just a few score leagues north or west of the Teeth, where the wind can strip a body to the bone and men are said to be beasts and cannibals.

Wilusa proper used to be one of the furthest arms of the far-flung Nomoan Empire (thank you, Mister Stater). When the Empire began to fold in upon itself, six centuries ago, the outlying principalities were forced to become more self-reliant.

To Wilusa's west, across a long spur of the Teeth of Ymir that reaches the coast, are the lands of the Rhun, a conglomeration of different tribes and clans whose only real common denominator is their disdain for "civilization" and its weaknesses. Rhunish raids into Wilusa have become more numerous in the past decade, in spite of the twin fortresses that guard the only major pass through the Teeth.

To Wilusa's north, across the highest peaks of the Teeth, lie the uncharted lands of the enigmatic Ik-Ta. According to the writings of the handful of explorers who claim to have visited this land of grinding ice and darkness, the Ik-Ta are an insular folk, eaters of their own kind and hostile towards outsiders.

Wilusa's eastern and southeastern neighbors are Tormir and Valuna, respectively, both former Nomoan provinces that have taken radically different paths. In contrast with Wilusa's competing city-states, Valuna has a firm authoritarian theocracy in power. The Children of Julian are the ruling (perhaps only) faction in this arid land of scant resources, and the work of their Prime Factor is considered to be the law of the land; more and more, this word has been "expansion", as Valuna has repeastedly threatened war with its neighbors in a quest for more territory.

Tormir, on the other hand, is ruled by a centralized authority of another kind. Emperor Rothroc II is an aging monarch of a weak dynasty in control of a disintegrating state. The booming fortunes of Wilusa have come partially at the expense of Tormir's mercantile class, and constant diplomatic and military pressure from Valuna has shorn the kingdom of much of its prime grazing land. Under such tensions, Tormir is ripe for dramatic change - or utter collapse.

Ever a haven of entrepreneurship, Wilusa's newest fortunes are being made in the mining fields collectively known as "The Faces". The Faces are primarily located in the southern foothills and smaller ranges of the Teeth of Ymir. The first major gem and metal strikes occurred within the last half-century, with more occurring every week as prospectors and fortune-seekers arrive in the coastal cities.