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 The Doomstone Dungeon

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Phlegm

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Number of posts : 751
Registration date : 2007-04-26

PostSubject: The Doomstone Dungeon   Tue 3 Aug - 17:48:20

The Doomstone Underworld

Plunged into an underground cavern we took in our new surroundings warily. The large chamber had at its heart had the altar where we had materialised. Two exits lay to the north and to the south whilst large archways dominated the east and west walls. Both of the south exits were choked with rubble. The whole room was eerily lit by starlight filtering from high above in some kind of distorted vision of the night sky. The distant sound of the frustrated howling of the undead orc guardians could be heard dimly, though there was no sign of pursuit.

We split up, Velma, Fred and Daphne checking the west, Shaggy and Scooby the east. Meanwhile Getz and Ulrich checked out each exit systematically. There was much evidence of seismic disturbance: Apart form the collapses that had blocked the southern corridors, checking the west showed a cavern with an apparently collapsed floor that led to a subterranean pool below. North down flights of stairs the passages turned in on themselves also amongst a jumble of stonework that had shifted radically in the past.

Meanwhile to the east passages dead ended after running north and south, one after rising, the other descending to an old wine cellar. At this point I made a totally logical and sensible deduction based on the available data:*

1: Torgoch had been conducting experiments with the doomstone leading to highly unpredictable results. For example the explosion in the tower and the destruction here.

2: Torgoch and the orcs had disappeared a hundred years ago. We had thought perhaps time travel explained this, but with the destruction here and the undead orcs, perhaps the answer was simpler: Torgoch had continued his experiments in the underground lair and sealed himself in with an accident of seismic proportions.

3: Ergo, we would locate the notorious orc leader in the most damaged section of the dungeon.

*Not my fault it turned out to be completely wrong.

Completely convinced by my devastating arguments we decided to concentrate on clearing one of the southern corridors and Snorri and I set to work. We were interrupted by an undead orc, the first of many and were soon in the first of a number of tough skirmishes with these powerful undead. These had a nasty habit of infecting opponents with rot and their mere appearance petrified party members for periods of time. When finally slain they disappeared in a shower of dust as their hellish existence was concluded by the helpful application of extreme violence.

We were hard pressed at times, especially when another orc appeared trying to take us from behind, but eventually we triumphed. We continued clearing the passage, only to uncover a pair of undead orcs which proved extremely tenacious. Having disposed of them, we went south, locating an abandoned chapel where we were attacked by exploding mould and then a large area of old druidic priest quarters. Here Mr Smith collected some shiny items, but it turned out to be another dead end with lots of flooded chambers and crazily tilted floors.

We trailed back to the northern corridors and discovered double doors marked with a polite message from Torgoch inviting visitors to keep out. The chamber beyond would lie beneath the entry chamber. Mr Smith at this point discovered that he had mislaid his lock picking equipment, most likely when he was robbed blind by the friendly gypsy fortune tellers. Snorri however is a gruff no nonsense, brawn-first kind of guy. *

*Or dwarf for short

There are few problems in this world that cannot be solved with the judicious application of an axe, and he began to vigorously expound his theory on the doors in question, quickly breaking them down revealing a large chamber beyond containing a great pillar of fire similar to the one that had brought us here except it was red. There was also a throne glimpsed through the flames, occupant if any, unknown.

The noise also attracted more deadly guardians and with our accumulated wounds already weakening us, we were quickly forced onto the defensive as orcs surrounded us. Eventually we were forced to retreat reluctantly into the new chamber, where we discovered that the orcs would not follow, repelled by the inscription forbidding their disturbance of the great Torgoch. Searching the chamber we discovered that it opened like a great cross with four antechambers surrounding the central one containing the throne. In the centre of the far chamber sat the fabled doomstone on a flame wrapped dais.

Beyond to the south, stairs descended into yet another flooded chamber where the wizardís light showed an underwater altar, the twin of the arrival terminal above. The throne was occupied by the gaunt still frame of Torgoch, the fabled orc necromancer* clearly dormant but menacing.

*As we would shortly discover

We meanwhile were bleeding and battered and faced with the prospect of a final confrontation whilst undead orcs continued to gather at the entrance cutting off any escape. I was also suffering the onset of tomb rot, inflicted in one of my many battles since our descent. How to recover the doomstone from its fiery prison? How to deal with the power of the great Torgoch?

It was Mr Smith who decided matters; overcome by his natural avarice he seized the doomstone which had several immediate effects:

1: It dispelled the orc guardians, releasing them from their link to this plane. Yay!
2: It activated a blue flame on the drowned altar. Surely an escape route for us. Yay!
3: It very nearly killed Mr Smith. Yay!
4: It nearly gave the rest of the party a heart attack. Boo!
5. It brought back the spirit of Torgoch to re-animate his body. Boo!

Fear paralysed several of us and the necromancer went for the thief. Torgoch was determined to give a full demonstration of his magical abilities and commenced with a range of spells such as hammerhand and hand of dust which fortunately failed, however, Mr Smith now collapsed quivering with fear. Our new elf friend dived in and grabbed the doomstone and took off, drawing the orcís attention and fire.

The rest of us legged it, only the heroic/ stupid Getz for some incomprehensible reason considering it necessary to stop and grab the body of our worthless thief. Somehow we all made it to and through the blue flame which returned us to the surface, proud owners of the doomstone and a significant collection of bruises, diseases, scars and broken bones we had obtained in our underground journey.

1.8.10
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Lord Payne

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Number of posts : 612
Registration date : 2007-05-01

PostSubject: Re: The Doomstone Dungeon   Wed 4 Aug - 13:41:51

My Lord

we captured a halfling messanger today. After s reasonable debrief (involving numerous trture devices and the eventual death of the plucky little fellow) we deduced that the party that set off with Prince Maximillian have indeed stumbled upon the ancient trail left by the Bloodaxe Alliance all those years ago. If this is indeed true then we must gather in haste to stop them discovering the treasures of legend. Of course I place no truth in such nonesense, but as a knight I must make sure that the truth of hsitory remains the version we have created.

We leave for Krutzhoffen immediately
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