DEFIANCE OF DARKNESS SESSION 1
7/12/25 @ Mythic Games Santa Cruz
Our Heroes:
Sylvia, Half-Elf Female CLR-1 / RNG-1 (Brandon)
Kale, Human Male MNK-1 (Brandon)
Tykary, Elf Female FTR-1 / MU-1 (Kristy)
Phoenix, Elf Female FTR-1 (Kristy)
The Empire of Venexmar, long in decline, has resurged under a new Emperor (may he remain sane longer than the others). Venexmar reclaims old territory and refamiliarizes old neighbors to their antique obligations. The specter of war looms. After a string of easy Venexmart victories the weakest of them knuckle under. The splash of blood shall extinguish the flames.
The adventuring party are among the heroic-types that emerged from a local clutch of independent villages and towns on the outskirts of the old Venexmart Empire which collaborate as The Precious Order. The Council of Burghers elected a wartime Burgher-King with extraordinary powers who shall surely rule altruistically, wisely shepherd The Precious Order through these uncertain times, and cede authority with grace when peace returns.
Among the initial proclamations of the Burgher-King is that any adventurers with might and magic should enroll in the military Partisans under the direction of the Burgher-King. Bad pay, hazardous duty, and strict oversight make this a bad option for freewheeling heroes. Horse prices skyrocket as adventurers flee the area.
The loosely-connected diaspora of low-level acquaintances heads generally east, inland, away from Venexmar. One small band of such friends, as yet unnamed, travels a well-built Venexmart merchant road of ancient worn cobblestones, through heavily-forested hills. Near dusk they spot a ruin off the road to the left. The nightly rains begin to darken great swaths of the horizon.
“That’s it”, Sylvia points her bow. A smudge on an inherited map, full of possibilities, now made starkly real against the sunset’s glow.
They approach and find the shell of a sprawling compound of stone walls, now roofless and crumbling. In the middle, a rude shack, barnlike in dimensions. Smoke rises from its chimney. The once-sturdy but now rotted and rundown wooden building squats among the stone ruins. Signs outside are badly painted: GO AWAY, NO TREASURE, NEED WINE. Kale cracks the door. Inside a filthy drunken scruffy man immediately points his ladle at them in the smoky gloom and belts out “If you got the money to pay, I’ll give you a plate of beans.” And indeed he’s simmering an iron skillet of beans and bacon on the fire.
The party decides to take up his hospitality to get out of the rain. They notice a huge hatch in the middle of the floor, which must lead to some underground area. The man introduces himself as Jeef Berky.
Jeef charges a copper coin for a plate of beans. Everyone takes him up on it. Their rations are running low, and Kale in particular has almost nothing to his name save his light crossbow and his half-full quiver, which he sets aside to scarf beans. Sylvia spots an old dog on a filthy rug and goes to pet it, and reads the collar-tag, which marks the dog as Karl Barx.
Jeef demands to know if they have alcohol. They, sadly, do not. Tykary asks Jeef about the ruins. He laughs, half-toothless, and says he’s supposed to keep people out of the dungeon. He was posted here by adventurers who went into the dungeon and never came back out. Jeef says he’ll let you in for a gold piece each per entry. He pats his jingling pocket.
The four glance at each other, certain they could roll him. But they agree to pay. Three coins are forthcoming, but Kale doesn’t even have a pocket to turn out to show his poverty – only a loincloth. Sylvia pays Kale’s fee. He smiles in thanks, the bright red phoenix tattoo on his face crinkling.
Jeef Berky doesn’t open the hatch. Instead, he shoos Karl Barx off the rug and peels it up to expose a smaller hatch, which he opens, and reveals stone stairs leading down. Jeef asks them to remember the secret knock to come back up, so he knows they’re not a monster [This was the Terminator theme]. The party forms up at the top of the stairs and begins their descent into the darkness. They decide not to strike a torch so their approach will be stealthier. Phoenix and Sylvia wear heavy armor, mail for Phoenix and the Imperial-style banded armor for Sylvia, so it’s not a silent group. Kale holds Sylvia’s shoulder to guide him, for he is the only one who cannot see. The others’ elven eyes adapt to the darkness and they can see the subtle gradient of heat between the wet, mildewed dungeon walls and the still underground air.
The steps are slippery, and halfway down Sylvia slips. Kale, his hand already on her shoulder and his footing steady, manages to catch her; if he had failed, he would have gone down with her.
They descend into a large smooth-walled stone room, octagonal, with a high domed ceiling. From the foot of the stairs the elves can see strange alcoves starting 10′ up on the north, south, and west walls, and peering up they see one above the east wall where their stairs enter. They also see a hole in the center of the floor.
Deciding not to strike a light, they creep around the hole toward the west wall, and send Kale up to investigate the alcove. He climbs, finding easy handholds in the carved wall, and grasps a stone foot! He continues upward and finds himself in the lap of a seated statue, its arms cradling something. Upward still, and he grasps a pair of stone breasts as handholds to eventually reach a statue’s face. He calls down that there’s nothing else up here.
Kale descends the easy climb quickly to the statue’s lap, and feeling carefully realizes that the statue holds a carved stone ship in her hands. He tries to take the ship. It moves but only upward, unable to twist or slide, and it’s still attached somehow to the statue. Kale hears a KLUNK behind the west wall, and a secret panel opens in the NW wall of the octagonal room. It’s a 4′ square, starting 4′ off the ground. Phoenix peers in and reports there’s a smooth stone tunnel heading straight NW. The elves also note that the hole in the middle of the floor is the top of a spiral staircase that leads downward.
As Kale slips down the statue, Tykary mantles up into the passage. The tight space is awkward for her longsword and though an elf she needs to advance at a slight squat. She shuffles down the damp hall while the others wait in the octagon.
A helmet on the ground ahead resolves out of the gloom. She approaches to take it, and the helmet rolls over! It’s inhabited by a Hermit Slug! The slug’s eyestalks dart around and it tries to take a bite out of her shin, but is foiled by her leather armor.
Tykary stabs down at the slug but her blows are deflected by its helmet. She grasps the helmet and with her great strength manages to yank it off. The slug, unharmed by the process but still annoyed, tries to bite her again. She pities the poor creature, but her peacemaking efforts fail. Luckily, its biting efforts continue to fail. She lures it into the helmet again by tipping it to the creature, and when it slithers in, she whisks up the helmet and holds the slug’s powerful foot off the ground. It fruitlessly leans and stretches to try to grasp or bite, but Tykary is smarter than a slug, and carries her trophy onward.
The rest of the group stacks up behind Tykary as she approaches the end of the tunnel, which opens into a 20′ wide by 30′ long room. Its ceiling and floor are cracked, water and sand having spilled in from above. Four rotted wooden biers hold four wrapped skeletal bodies, their arms crossed on their chests.
The party finally strikes a torch here and checks the bodies, but decides at the last moment not to burn them because they worry about smoke filling the room. The anointed and embalmed bodies are dressed in rich but rotted yellow fabrics and rusted silver jewelry. Most of it is too far gone, but each has a nice signet ring with a unique series of dimples in a circle around a central symbol: a wagon wheel behind an anchor. In its claws one of the skeletons grasps a lead tube with cap sealed by melted lead. Another grasps a tarnished shortsword.
Tykary pokes one of the bodies. The whole thing rocks a little, bound in its wrappings, its remaining leathery skin and sinew keeping the bones together. Nothing else happens.
Phoenix, summoning advice once heard from another adventurer long ago, suggests they tear off all the skeletons’ shins. “If they rise as Undead, and they can’t walk, it’ll be easier to fight them that way.” Everyone agrees this is sound advice. Sylvia encourages Kale to go first. He plants his foot on a pelvis and rips off first one leg and then another. The skeleton does not rise to attack. Emboldened, the other three each rip off a pair of legs. Kale decides to keep his.
They take the sword and the rings, rifling through the bodies for any more loot, and while they’re wary of the tube they take it anyway – unopened.
Returning to the octagon, now with torchlight, they recognize that the other three alcoves have statues too. All four are women in varying clothes, seated on thrones, each holding some object in her lap in both hands. Learned Sylvia remembers these are sometimes seen on city gates, as they are the personifications of cardinal directions and those lands in each direction. Not deities exactly, and they have no temples or Clerics. It’s an old-fashioned practice.
The light also reveals a band of carved words in a circle around the top of the spiral stairs. They read:
A Thorn the deadly vine had
With a fearful Shout, her finger pricked
Forevermore her Seat thence kept
Tykary looks at Sylvia and says “I’ve got nothing.” Sylvia agrees. The party gets into marching order and heads down the narrow spiral stairs.