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Sprocket’s Journal

Eleasis 1, 1373 DR, Pommeville

The fun just keeps coming. After a fairly nice and quiet breakfast of potatoes (and yes, the barbarians were quite miffed that the giant potato golem didn’t provide a repeat performance), Widget and I went back up to our room so I could study and we could get the rest we missed the evening before. After enough hours to sleep and successfully prepare my spells, we headed out to see what else the hamlet of Pommeville had to offer. Even with the deaths of at least fifteen townsfolk the evening before, the market was open for business. Still, it was a bit of a disappointment, as there were no gnomish merchants, and worse, no books for sale, anywhere. I asked if there was a library in town and the vendor I was talking to pointed towards the wizard’s tower on the other end of town and said, “there’s probably a library up there.” Not to be defeated so easily, I asked if there were any other wizards in the town. No, of course not. I asked if there were any arcane magic users and was told to look up a human sorcerer called Aseir. These comments were, unfortunately, consistent with what Amber from the town guard, and the paladin, er, Holy Warrior of Suffering, Damota told me too. In fact, I was about to go seek out the sorcerer, when Widget reminded me it was time for our dinner.

We headed back to the Inn, and I noticed there were two other patrons there that likely did not hail from this town. The Calishite blended in well enough, but his little tablemate, which looked to be a halfling-sized drow, was an unusual site. I was still a bit tired from the non-stop excitement of the day before, so after a quick meal went back to my room to rest.

Sometime, long after dark, Widget and I awoke to the sounds of horns blaring— and seemingly getting closer. A town emergency? Did they decide to have a Midsummer’s Eve festivities a day late? We got ourselves packed up quickly and hustled out into the hall in time to see all the other guests of the Green Griffin running down the steps (thankfully all dressed this time). Everyone I’d met the night before, and the Calishite, ran towards the town cemetery with the town guard.

Sure as Gond is a gnome, there was a wave of undead stumbling towards the center of town again. I cast an armor spell on Widget and I as the larger members of the group dashed ahead. I thought I saw the little drow for a moment, but then he was gone so quickly I wasn’t sure— maybe he cast a darkness spell on himself.

The clear sky held a bright full moon, but I wasn’t sure how well all the humans and the halfling could see— I hoped my next spell would aid them in that regard while confusing the zombies. Seeing our dwarven cleric friend wasn’t attempting to turn the undead (but rather, plowing through them with an axe), I cast what looked like a huge fiery sun about 400’ above the fray. Only one or two zombies seemed to notice, but Roscoe, aiming his bow beside me, thanked me for the added light— helpful for ranged attacks, at least! (Amber from the town guard later thanked me for “the assistance of light” so I wonder if anyone realized it was an illusion rather than a light spell.)

Unfortunately, the light showed us that there were even more undead a hundred yards behind the first wave, headed our way. I tried a few variations on the “sun” as the rest of the group used mundane weapons. I thought it might get some of the undead’s attention if it looked more ominous, so I made it pulse with an eerie green light. Nothing. Next, I lowered it down on the zombies in melee. Some of the town defenders noticed it and seemed alarmed, but the zombies continued to be unimpressed. I finally let the orb “set” between the group of undead in melee and the more freshly arisen that were still shambling towards us. At least some of them took the extra time to walk around the pseudonova.

It didn’t look like there were any more zombies behind that batch (yet), and they were now all in melee range, so I dropped the spell and cast a forcewave at a zombie attempting to claw Bryrgar. The spell didn’t seem to be entirely effective, so I grabbed my pistol and shot the thing. Widget handed me another bullet as I started to back up with Roscoe— someone in front of us had called a retreat to the temple, where Damota was already gathering the townsfolk (the living ones, I mean). At least half of the town guard, desperately trying to buy more time for the villagers to reach safety, fell to the undead.

Nosila collapsed, and I attempted to shoot her attacker but missed by a goodly amount. I (and several others, I’m sure) yelled to Charzth and, in a rage, he tore though the massed horde to retrieve her, dropping her several yards further on before charging back into the battle. Roscoe and I decided to drag the unconscious barbarian woman to the temple, and arrived there only moments before the rest of the defenders.

We’re bolting the temple doors as we did last night, and (at last!) pooling our information. Bryrgar, in addition to spending half the day reburying the dead only to have them rise up again, had discovered something during their re-interment. At the back of the graveyard, he noticed a very old vault, untouched during that past night, but with obvious scrape marks in front of the door. He opened it and checked it out, finding an odd symbol of five dragon heads in a wheel— Tiamat, the Dragon Queen. I had to wonder if that was what Giles had been on a pilgrimage for, though it’s doubtful that these two mysteries fit so neatly together! That reminds me, I must tell the other town defenders of the ruins. I mean, they know about the ruins, as that is where the green light went to. Giles may have unleashed something, either willingly or unwillingly, that will continue the nightly torment of this town until there’s no one left alive to fight back.

Posted by Kristin on September 19, 2004, 21:38 | Sprocket’s Journal