The locals have been harassed lately by bandits and the locals are keen for the Lemmings to patrol and deal with the threat. Sir Thiebault says he will take it under advisement. The villagers seem satisfied with this. The Lemmings use up some of their supplies to save money, wary of being overcharged for being insufficiently enthusiastic about patrolling. Sir Thiebault then sets Fulrad and Wido to training so that they will be properly prepared for the next expedition to Gamla Utstein (+1 XP each). Meanwhile, Lysanthir was able to find a buyer for the artworks and added 6 Marks to the party's purse. With the trading done, the Thrappled Lemmings set out once more for Gamla Utstein, claiming that they were going to patrol in that direction.
They made their way quickly through the carnage they had left behind and descended lower towards the bowels of the earth. As they approached the next level of the catacombs, they heard eldritch chanting echoing around the chambers and corridors ahead. Worse yet, there was an infernal buzzing noise like a thousand bluebottles trapped in a tiny room on a hot summer day. The noises combined to cause even the Thrappled Lemmings to contemplate their own existences.
As Fulrad scouted ahead, he realised quickly that this was an active tomb.
"It's quiet," he muttered, "too quiet."
He waved the others forward.
"Looks like this is a proper tomb", he informed them, "There'll be undead guards here for sure."
As the Lemmings advanced further into the tombs, the infernal buzzing showed itself to be hellish imps summoned from another plane. In Utavoll they had taken on the semblance of giant flies whose buzzing would drive anyone insane. The first of them attacked Sir Thiebault, but was driven back.Fulrad took a shot that bounced off the demon's hardened hide.
"Scrag them!" yelled Sir Thiebault, voicing the Thrappled Lemmings' battle cry. The other's took up the cry, "Scrag them!"
As Sir Thiebault and Drogo waded into the imps and cut them down, the others saw skeletons approaching from the other direction. Meanwhile, the chanting had taken on a different tone and got louder. The Lemmings could hear an unpleasant whining noise on the edge of their hearing.
"Whoever is chanting is starting to get their act together," announced Lysanthir, "Expect summoned monsters incoming unless we can find them soon!"
As the Lemmings destroyed the last of the skeletons guards, the buzzing of more imps grew closer and the chanting increased in volume once more. It took on a tone that gave them all a toothace as the whining noise got stronger.
"I think I hear where the chanting is coming from," yelled Wido, "Follow me!"
He raced off through the tombs with the other Lemmings following as fast as they could. Even as he did so, Lysanthir realised it was too late as a cracking, rending noise echoed through the tombs. Hastily, Lysanthir yelled a counter spell. It was too late to stop the summoning, but not too late to interfere with the ritual. He grunted hard as if hit in the belly and paused a moment.
"I think that did it."
Lysanthir used "Did I ever tell you how I learned to do this?" to automatically pass the Devotion test to disrupt the ritual and learned the skill Devotion as part of that. The disruption means that the Troll will attack anybody it is near, not just the party.
"Ah, crap," yelled Wido, "It's a troll!"
As the others ran to take up defensive positions, Wido raced towards where he though the deranged cultist was hiding, while Onesipe went in search of treasure. At the rear of the party, the Imps had caught up with Lysanthir and Drogo and a grim fight began, while the Troll, realising it could not catch Wido turned to attack Sir Thiebault. Its first blow splintered several ribs and only desperate flailing stopped the Troll from turning him into paste. Fulrad's arrow splintered on the Troll's stony skin. Instead of counterattacking immediately, Sir Thiebault paused to apply a healing salve.
The Troll attacked and Sir Thiebault responded with renewed vigour, his sword cutting deeply into the Troll's side but he soon found himself laid out on the floor as the Troll smashed him to the ground apparently lifeless. Elsewhere, Wido had found the deranged cultist's hiding place. Puffing hard from his sprint, his first attack was turned aside but he soon caught his breath and speared the cultist through the heart with a spirited counterattack.
Onesipe tucked the gold bars (4 Marks) into his backpack. He could hear the others fighting but figured he had time to grab what loot he could while they were dealing with the monsters.
Lysanthir and Drogo quickly killed several more imps and this was enough to drive the others off. With strange bamfing noises the Imps returned to their home dimension.
Having smashed aside Sir Thiebault, the Troll then smashed Fulrad to the floor. Lysanthir and Drogo turned to face it. Lysanthir cast a wall of flame across the corridor and Drogo used his bow to wound the Troll. As the wall of flame died down, the wound closed of its own accord though.
By now, Wido had caught up and was able to attack the Troll from behind while Lysanthir and Drogo attacked it from the front. Faced with a concerted attack by all three, the Troll was soon cut down. They burnt the corpse just in case and went off in search of Onesipe, who was about to get an earbashing at best.
Once they had found him and told him what they thought of him, the others dragged Onesipe round the rest of the tombs. On the way, they encountered yet more groups of Imps. Fortunately, these were worth fighting because they were all gathered around heaps of treasure. By the end of the day, Jarnhauss the Mule was laden under a king's ransom and the Lemmings staggered back to Utstein Marknad with their injured comrades.
Fortunately, Fulrad was only knocked out and would have a sore head for a while but was otherwise alright. Sir Thiebault's ribs would take longer to heal but he was not seriously wounded, and the sheer weight of treasure they had looted quickly made him forget the pain. And a letter arrived from Sigrid the Beggar telling them that their legend was growing all across Utavoll now, and could they send her a Mark or three for the courtesy she had shown them. Sir Thiebault chuckled and then winced as his ribs protested. Things were really not bad for now.
Well, I can't believe how many guarded stashes the group found, and the Troll was not much fun, but the Lemmings have come out of this adventure sitting on a pretty pile of loot. I wonder how long it will take them to drink it away.
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