Horgar’s Journal – more from our DnDNext playtest adventure
After defeating the pair of ancient monks Horgar admitted that he had been mistaken and they weren’t actually undead just unnaturally long lived. As the last one hit the floor and the rogue (Aitchpee Zorse) searched the remains, our allies discover a third figure that had been lying in the corner that was now awakening and looking a little bewildered.
The newcomer turned out to be a Norse priest that had been part of an adventuring party that had sampled a mysterious liquid in this room and fallen into an ageless sleep (obviously the same thing the monks had taken) and then been abandoned as dead by his former companions. In an effort to get more answers the Norseman used his prayers to commune with the spirit of the now dead monks and gave us a heads up of what lay ahead before joining our little troupe.
We continued southwards towards what we had been told were “flying undead” to find a corridor with numerous bodies hanging from spikes in the wall. One of the hill dwarf warriors stepped boldly forward and the figures lifted their heads in unison as they opened their rotting maws and gave a hoarse roar, then they pushed against the walls and dropped to the floor as the rest of us prepared to face them.
I grasped the handle of Frith-blot, my sacred warhammer, as my fellow dwarves engaged our foes. The Norseman and myself identified them as ancient zombies. Battleaxe and halberd tore into their undead forms, dropping them before the remains turned to a black powdery dust. The Norseman also gave battle, though his blow wasnt as effective, leaving his opponent still standing albeit with its head hanging from a grisly thread of tendon as it continued to approach.
I dug my heels into Snarler’s sides and my trusty wargoat charged me at the nearest abomination. Frith-blot smashed into its chest, hurling the beast back and to the ground. It started to get back up but the holy energies of the hammer disrupted its animating force and it to became ash.
Tuor the elf supplied covering fire with his viscious bow as our itinerant rogue investigated something that he found curious about the tunnels construction. As the zombies continued to advance we continued to fight them off, though some did rise after taking wounds that would have dropped a living warrior. Aitchpee suddenly whispered something to the elven archer before bolting past our defensive line and down the zombie filled corridor. Numerous rotting hands reached for the apparently suicidal thief but thankfully only a couple managed to land blows. Clearly shaken but unperturbed Aitchpee found what he was looking for and shouted “Now Tuor!” and the elf called us back out of the corridor urgently. The rogue had found the trigger to an ancient trap which he now activated, causing the wall spikes to spear out and impale the zombies once again. Unfortunately a couple werent impaled and as the other were drawn up to their wall-mounts once again the pair descended upon our thieving friend.
The Norseman called upon his god again and the impaled zombies were turned to dust and as it settled back to the floor Kalavan, the dwarf with the battleaxe and myself charged down the corridor to assault the remaining zombies. Kalavan struck first practically hewing the monster in half. Moments later Frith-blot caved the ribcage of my opponent as its holy brilliance flared throughout its body, not even leaving enough to turn to dust. With a quick prayer to my god I sent healing energy into Aitchpee as he reset the trap, just in case one of us aciidentally triggered it.
We explored the corridor further, confirming that it eventually rejoined the areas we had already explored and then decided to return to the defendable security of the monks chamber to lick our wounds and plan our next move.