AFF solo - Part XVII: Journey to Anhassuul

Having rested and re-supplied, the companions march out of Drammub's northern gate and wend their way down the steep, narrow, and very twisty path to the bottom of the gorge, and thence out into the open desert. If Ksandajja is pleased that she was able to acquire a few components for certain of her sorcerous spells, Fhenteskeer is even more so, for all his excess wealth has been tithed to the small temple of Filash within Drammub's sacred precinct. He feels the holy fires of his god fill his skull as he follows the sorceress over the sands. She stops abruptly, turns back to look at him critically.

"It is no apostasy to give due reverence to Hydana, priest of Filash."

"What?"

"Drink some water before you fall over."

[Pointless random city encounters were redacted from the narrative.

The quest was rolled up with the Sharp Swords & Sinister Sorcery adventure generator--
Goal: steal/capture spellbook
Location: Raider-Inhabited Desert
Antagonist: Powerful Undead
Supporting character: Sage
Complication: (roll later)
Reward: Large Sum of Silver and Gold

I'd asked the oracle--
Q: Does the sage have the Find spell? 50/50 (4+): O5 C3 - yes, but... ('but' makes no sense, so simple yes)

everyone bought 8 days preserved food (2 provisions/day), plus--
K - beeswax (RAZ), yellow powder (NIP), small pouch (she fills with 2 handfuls of sand for MUD spell (x2))
G - stamina potion
I - 30m rope & grappling iron
F- stamina potion, tithes 18gp to Fire temple

For the journey, I used a not-too-dissimilar procedure to the caravan journey. Each day I made 1 day and 1 night encounter check (1-2 on d6), + 1 feature roll (Heroes' Companion), + a Desert Lore (Ksandajja) check not to get lost. Per the AFF rulebook, PCs lose 2 Stamina travelling during day from the heat (but Ksandajja's weather protection cantrip and Grebdal Themp's magic tattoo alleviate this).]


Day 1

Ksandajja leads her companions through the scorching wasteland, following the route of the ancient road Uldan-andu had shown her on a worm-eaten map. The explorers trudge forward at a steady pace, scanning the blazing horizon for any signs of their destination, though it be too early to have it in sight.

As they march between dunes, the sand beneath their feet begins to subtly shift and sink, then erupt all round them in violence as the rubbery green tentacles of a SAND SQUID burst from beneath, flailing and catching at its unsuspecting prey.

SAND SQUID   SKILL 8   STAMINA 9

[It has 4 attacks per round, so compares its attack roll to each of the PCs' rolls and can potentially damage them all. The PCs have -2 Skill as they are hampered by flailing tentacles & shifting sands.]

[Round 1]
Ksandajja ducks under a tentacle with consummate grace as she draws her sword, but swirling dust under the feet leaves her too off-balance to counter the attack. Grebdal Themp manages a lucky riposte, drawing a thin oozing line across one of the thrashing arms. Ilog and Fhenteskeer are caught entierly unawares. The warrior hasn't even time to unlimber his shield from his back, and takes a long bloody tear down the arm where it should hang. The priest fares worse, with a deep gash through his hauberk and midsection. Both feel a sharp sting to the wounds as the squid's toxic secretions sink into their tattered flesh.

[The squid rolled 8(skill)+6=14
Ksandajja rolled 8-2+8=14, neither inflicted damage.
Fhenteskeer 7-2+5=10, he was hit for 6-1=5dmg, dropping him to 5 Stamina.
Grebdal Themp 9-2+9=16, hitting for 2 damage, putting the squid at 7 Stamina.
Ilog 9-2+5=12, he takes 3dmg to 13 Stamina.]

[Round 2]
The beast's fury does not abate. Neither Ksandajja nor Grebdal Themp can find an opeing that would not leave them also exposed. Ilog swings his mace-and-chain high overhead, but the thing just rakes his shins with another slimy, toxic tentacle. Fhenteskeer fares the worst; he wields his axe in defence, only to have it torn from his grasp and flung several paces out of reach, slick with his own blood spurting from another grievous wound.

[The squid, Grebdal Themp and Ksaandajja all rolled 15. Ilog got a 14, but only suffered 2 damage. Fhenteskeer tried to Defend (+2 skill), but fumbled (natural 2); he took 4-0=4 dmg, leaving him at 1 stamina.]

[Round 3]
Seeing Fhenteskeer nearly disembowled, Ksandajja knows she must act decisively. She summons the old magic from the deep recesses of her soul, channeling it through her extended fingers in a burst of crackling blue electricity. The squid bursts like an overripe melon, and gobbets of stinking green meat rain down over the sands.

[She cast ZAP, costing 4 stamina, and succeeding despite the -2 penalty for being in close combat. 3d6=15 damage, no save.]

"Have... have you always been able to do that?" says an astonished Grebdal Themp.

"I, um, like to save it for special occasions. It's dreadfully exhausting."

Fhenteskeer uses his miraculous orison to heal his injuries, Ilog must resort to more mundane means. The sorceress is meanwhile stuffing her face with some PROVISIONS as Grebdal Themp looks on in amazement. "Whuh?," says the sorceress with her mouth full. "Using magic makes me hungry."

The rest of the day, and fortunately also the night, pass without incident.

[Fortunately neither Ilog nor Fhenteskeer succumbed to the poison (1-in-6 chance, -1 SKILL). Between the food/magic/rest, they are all at full Stamina in the morning.]

Day 2

The next day's travel finds the desert nearly lifeless, just endless stretches of sand and protruding rock. When Glatanka blazes at her highest in the empyrean, Ilog catches sight of an encampment in the distance, dun-coloured tents of animal skins nearly invisible against the shifting dunes. [Feature: nomad encampment - tents]

The companions draw near as they dare. Ilog peers over the top of a stone outcropping to take a closer look. After a few moments of squinting and contemplation, he sinks down in to the shade by the others.

"It's as I feared: a band of nomadic Khaiïtsakai. Their hatred of outsiders is as proverbial as the reasons behind it are forgotten."

"Not to worry," says Ksandajja. "I should be able to find us a way past that won't add considerably to our march."

[Ilog succeeded at a World Lore roll to know about them.

Q: What are the nomads like? Judgementally / Historical
Ksandajja had to make a Desert Lore check at -2 to easily circumvent the camp: 6+1+2(Learned)-2=7; 2d6=6, success. I rolled an additional encounter check to see if they ran across any of the nomads: d6=3, no.]

By late afternoon a small dark blot appears on the horizon. They have nearly reached Anhassuul, the Dead City. They make camp the better part of league away. Nothing disturbs them in the night. Perhaps whatever predators roam the desert at night are wise enough not to come this near to such an ill-famed place.

[I gave each PC an Awareness test at -6 to notice anything interesting in the city's direction -- unsurprisingly they all failed.]

Day 3

As the first rays of dawn are just creeping over the distant mountains, the explorers strike their camp and set off towards the ruins of the ancient polis. Ksandajja leads them over a discoloured dirt track, once a main road, and within an hour they stand before one of Anhassuul's gates, which is choked with fallen rubble and as impassable as the solid, towering walls that yet stand firm against the biting jaws of Time.

"Lucky I thought to buy this grapple and length of rope," says Ilog.

"We'll be glad of it later, I'm certain," says Grebdal Themp. "But I wager there's an easier way inside, if we look."

The warrior nods his assent, and they begin a circuit of the walls -- on the shady side first -- looking for any breach in their fastness.

[Awareness rolls at -1; Ksandajja succeeds by the highest margin.]

"Look, here," says the sorceress. "A gap in the foundations. Help me clear this sand away. A person could squeeze through -- but it's ominously dark down there."

Grebdal Themp lights his lantern, as warrior and sorceress dig in the rocky sand with bare hands. When the hole is ready, they look to him, but he hesitates. "Are we sure this is the best way in?" he asks.

"I'd go first," says Ilog, "but I'm afraid I'd get stuck."

Ksandajja volunteers before Fhenteskeer can come up with his own excuse.

[Q: What's it like inside? Delightfully / Abandoned

1d6=5 rooms to get to street level, using the AFF dungeon generator. 2-in-6 chance of an encounter per room]

Grebdal Themp does his best to shine the light inside as Ksandajja slides down the side of the hole and makes a short drop to land heavily on her feet. She has to stand on tiptoes and strain her arms to take the proferred lantern.

The space is part of the foundations of the wall, possibly the basement of a structure built into them. Squat sqauare columns have been tunneled out of the bedrock to support a low ceiling. The companions stow their travelling gear here before moving further, weapons at the ready.

[Room 2 - natural cavern, trap]
The next space is much like the first, though the rude stone columns are replaced with brick, evidently of later construction. But as softly as they tread on the dusty stone, the vibrations of the companions' movements are enough to disturb the balance of centuries. A crack in one of the arches slips, and a cascade of brick, stone, and ancient hardwood rains down, sending up a choking cloud of dust. Ksandajja and Ilog leap back just in tome to avoid being buried beneath the collapse.

[1d3=2 PCs must Test LUCK or Dodge to avoid 1d6 dmg. K & I both succeed; their current Luck decreases to 8 & 9 respectively.]

They backtrack and find another way forward.

[Room 3 - strange décor]
[Q: What is the strange décor? Cheerfully / Faded]

A long fissure forms a winding, downward-sloping passage. Following it to the end leads them to a wider, more open vault with a faded mosaic floor. Ksandajja studies the imagery for a few moments, [Ancient Lore roll succeeds] brushing aside the bones of the city's former inhabitants to see an archaic representation of Asrel, goddess of love & beauty [Gently / Good]. Fhenteskeer's interest is piqued, and he comes over to briefly discuss the iconography with the learned sorceress as a bemused Ilog and Grebdal Themp look on. Thus it is that no one notices the wispy form of a SHADE coalescing behind [1 f, 2 g, 3 i, 4-6 k] Fhenteskeer until his cry of pain and surprise when it rakes its tiny sharp claws down his back. [He takes 3-1 damage, down to 8 Stamina]

SHADE   SKILL 11   STAMINA 6

[Round 1]
Despite Ksandajja disturbing the bones, the shadowy fiend still vents its fury on Fhenteskeer. Its claws seem ever to find away through his hauberk [he takes 2-1=1 damage]. And though the companions have superiority of numbers, most of their strokes pass clear through the shadowy creature. Only Ilog's morning star connects with something a bit more material, eliciting a malignant hiss. [The PCs attack at +3 for outnumbering it. Ilog inflicts a mere 2 damage.]

[Round 2]
The shade swirls round Fhenteskeer, slashing his unprotected face [3-0 damage; he's at 4 Stamina]. The others are hesitant to strike lest they hit the priest. [It rolled 11+9=20. No one else came close to hitting.]

[Round 3]
Fhenteskeer gives up on attacking, seeking merely to ward off the tiny claws with his axe. Ksandajja thrusts her sword straight into the place where the shade's heart once sat. It dissolves into nothingness with a final screech.

[Fhenteskeer fought defensively for +2, but no longer counted as outnumbering. Luckily, Ksandajja rolled a Critical, doing double damage.]

Ilog helps Fhenteskeer bind his wounds. The priest also eats a bit of bread, burning half with the torch as an offering to his god. And takes a swig of wine to steady his nerves. [heals 2+2, back to 8 Stamina.]

Rested, they squeeze through another narrow, partly collapsed passage, and find a cramped, empty room [Room 4] with low benches carved into the wall. A square doorway decorated with a patttern of human bones pressed into plaster leads to a long rectangular chamber.

[Room 5 - temple]
A broad stairway near the doorway leads upwards, and a smaller one descends. At the far end of the chamber is a rough stone altar, ornamented with antiquated hieroglyphs and encrusted with the blood of innumerable sacrifices. Gutters carved into the black stone lead to a rusted grating in the floor.

Fhenteskeer, embarrassingly, cannot place the iconography, but Ksandajja recognises it immediately. "It's an altar to [d30=]Death," she sighs. The fire priest becomes nervous when she says it, and she must restrain him with an outthrust arm. "No further! It might be dangerous even to walk here."

She peers at it with her witch's sight, but cannot see any magic swirling in the darkness [Second Sight roll failed]. She's sure there must be, however, so tries a little magc of her own to bring it to light [casts SUS for 2 Stamina].

[Q: There's something residually dangerous here, innit? Certain (2+): O5 C4 - yes, but...
LC: Carelessly / Interesting]

"There is magic here! But only on the altar itself. A trap, I think. It would probably go off no matter who touched it, so it's proof against any who would worship in this awful place."

"Best left alone then," says Fhenteskeer with evident relief.

next post: down ancient streets