The Druid's Magic Powder - 4AD Actual Play 5

The kids had a rough weekend...

The dungeon diving class of four continues. Check out the previous installment here.

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Monday nights at the Tipsy Owl weren’t particularly busy.

Faelith and Ithar were a bit too energetic for Thessa. The young mage was fascinated with her new control over fire. She snapped her fingers. A flame appeared, then just as quickly went away.

Thessa stared at it with tired eyes, ragged from her weekend fun.

Ithar rambled incessantly about the gods’ gift of fire to humanity and the reverence it should be shown.

“Fire is a blessing, not a toy, Fae. The early Meddian commentaries on the book of Talgor tell us that.” He quoted from memory. “Let not the flame be bidden without cause nor reverence, for its power bespeaks…”

“Hush it. We don’t need a sermon, Ithar.” Thessa interrupted. “That’s the only thing keeping me awake.”

Garron arrived even more haggard than Thessa.

SSU’s Loot and Pillage Team won. Slew an entire village on Saturday, and the drinking binge that followed took a serious toll on the warrior. He slumped into a chair and put his head on the table.

“You two need to come alive. We’re going back to the Tomb today.” Faelith reproached.

“I know, I know,” said Thessa. “Just give me a minute. I’ve got an…uh…energy powder in my saddlebag outside. Come on, big man.”

“Magic?”

“Not really, it’s natural. I get it from a druid who peddles such things.”

A few moments later, Thessa and Gannon came back inside, all smiles and laughter and chatter. That druid must be the real deal, thought Faelith.

The Tomb entrance wasn’t as foreboding this time.

I mean, they’d bested Lord Chao$. What could possibly be worse?

They probably should have gotten more equipment with their loot from last week. Garron did buy some heavy armor, but lost the rest gambling. Thessa’s new cloak was stylish, but the druid got most of her coin. Ithar’s went to the temple, and Faelith to investments.

As usual, the warrior and cleric led the way, followed closely by the rogue and wizard. The party retraced its steps and went west rather than north at what Faelith called Chamber 2.

Wandering Monsters

Room 1 – Roll 3, No
Room 2 – Roll 5, No

There were no unpleasant surprises.

Garron didn’t feel much like ramming a door. He was worn down again from the weekend. Thessa (with additional help from the druid’s special powder) seemed extremely confident.

Locked Door – Level 3

Thessa picks lock, Roll 6 + 1 = 7, Success!

She smiled as the door clicked open.

Behind it lay more of a corridor than a room. A winding hallway that looked quite like the number two on Faelith’s map. Hyper alert as they moved down the passage, Ithar found nine gold coins on the ground.

The four discovered an unusual statue as they passed a north door and made their way to a dead-end hall. It stood about 5 feet tall and looked like an ancient mage.

Pencil and Sharpie masterpiece…lol

Statue – Search – Roll 5, falls apart, find 120 gp

Ithar was suspicious.

Of the four, he was the only one who’d not fallen asleep last year during Professor Glornan’s magical slideshow on traps. Ithar knew they could be moments away from death.

A poison dart. Magical hex. Or some golem. All were documented.

He was about to warn the others when Garron just walked over and touched its robe. Ithar instinctively ducked. But nothing happened.

It simply crumbled into a heap of stone. The tired warrior just shook his head at Ithar’s cowardice. He quickly gathered the 120 gp scattered in the rubble.

“Don’t think I’m sharing this!”

Thessa piped up, “How’s about I take 60 of it for some more energy powder?”

It was in her hands before she could finish the sentence. Garron felt alive again and ran down the hall towards the door.

It was unlocked.

Another statue, same as the last, but this time sitting atop a stone altar. In the middle of the corridor. Ithar hesitated again.

Cursed Altar - Get -1 on all defense rolls
Ithar casts Remove Curse

Garron rushed over and shook the stone mage. It didn’t move, or fall, or crumble. He shook harder and yelled.

Suddenly, there was a flash…then a glow.

Garron staggered back feeling weak and tired. His armor must have weighed a thousand pounds. From the mania of the powder, a mighty dread washed over his brain.

“I told you, Garron. Your recklessness will be your undoing.”, said Ithar. “I sense this is evil, a curse laid upon you for your greed.”

Garron leaned heavily against the wall. Faelith and Thessa stared in disbelief at his sudden change.

“The curate taught me how to remove it”, Ithar continued.

“Ok, then fix me.”

Ithar knelt and placed his hand on Garron’s shoulder. “You must repeat my words.”.

It was long, and Garron grew bored. But he had to do what this holy roller wanted. Soon, he felt the weight lift and his strength returned.

“I guess I owe you the rest of my coin?”

“No. I have blessed you. I have no powers, but as a connection to the gods. Give it to the temple when we return.”

“Uhh…ok”, replied Garron. He had no intention of doing any such thing.

With their heavy-hitter feeling better, the four made their way deeper into the Tomb.

Encounter – Roll 4 – Minions – Roll 5 – d3 Trolls (3 trolls) – Level 5

Garron attacks, roll 4 + 1 = 5, 1 dead

Ithar attacks, roll 6, 1 dead

Thessa attacks, roll 4 + 1 = 5, 1 dead

Garron hacks one to bits

Thessa hacks one to bits

Roll for regeneration, Roll 3, No

Garron hacks one to bits.

The corridor opened into a flea-infested lounge of sorts. Three of the gangliest trolls they’d ever seen reclined on straw and skins, passing around a wineskin. Two gnawed human bones. Another slid skewered rats into his mouth from a long, rusted spike.

Disgusting.

Garron, no longer cursed and riding high on the herbal energy, screamed and charged. The fight was on.

One clean sword strike from the blonde warrior split the first troll before he could grab his weapon. Garron felt invincible.

“I’ll slay everyone damn one of you!

Ithar brought his mace down from the heavens, caving the rat-eater’s skull into shards. It dropped, still clutching its vermin kebab.

Thessa had already ducked behind the third. Her dagger flashed. It fell forward onto its face.

“Now that’s teamwork!”

Garron readied his blade for the unpleasantness at hand. “Let’s get these hacked up before they come back to life on us.”

Ithar and Fealith took no part in the unpleasantness.

Pulp and ichor rained down until there was nothing to regenerate. Among the mess were five gp that no one wanted to touch.

The north door was damp, and mushrooms grew through the cracks. The knob turned freely but they hesitated…

What was that smell? And is that giggling coming from inside?

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