Runequest Thursday #148 - Welcome to Kos, Part 2!

Runequest Thursday #148 - Welcome to Kos, Part 2!

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Back in RQT 143 In regaled you with the adventure of Kyrikos, Alayda and Cotann, arriving in Kos City and immediately finding a bar brawl, dastardly villains, and a mystery in one fell swoop! Well, with the summer schedule, holidays, and busy gamers, it took a while to get back to things for part 2 of what was a pretty lively first session on the Island of Kos, Gloranthan style.

I detailed how I fit Kos into my version of Glorantha in that article too, for those who are interested, but suffice to say that it is the most windward isle of a chain of small landmasses in teh Rozgali Sea, two days sail for a fast ship like Kyrikos' Sea Witch, or 3 to 4 days sail for the merchanter tubs he was escorting there. In short order on arrival, Kyrikos and his friends, Alayda (a Humakti initiate) and Cotann (a Caladran witch), found themselves tracking a cadre of suspiciously evil, potentially vampiric, blackclad characters out of the city and into the rugged hills westward. Last episode, I told you that the heroes were convinced of the utility of having their very own wagon and horse for this journey, by one of the proprietors of Green Pastures stablery, which the trio had found while pursuing the trail of the ir quarry. I am now told that this is not so, that they heroes refused to part with their hard earned cash in order to purchase a wagon and horse they did not need, and could not in any event transport off the island on Kyrikos' ship. 

I remember it differently, but so be it. Ere long, I would have plenty of other opportunities to mess with the player characters.

The adventurers followed the main inland road away from the City, at first only three in a straggling throng of race fans exiting the city after the chariot races for homes within walking distance of town. After a mile or two, however, the throng dwindled to nothing and the trio found themselves alone in the hills, the bright stars overhead enough by which to navigate the road and follow the tracks of the wagon the nefarious blackclad cultists has purchased form Greener Pastures, with which to carry their suspiciously large and heavy wooden boxes. After a few more miles, Kyrikos, who grew up in the City, felt the itch of an unpleasant remembrance, brought on by the locale and the party's suspicions of their quarry, but could not quite recall what bothered him.

In another mile and a crossroads with a little used track to the south, the remembrance revealed itself in full, along with no small measure of agitation. The overgrown track, which showed signs of recent passage by some wheeled vehicle, led to Elysion - a rambling, overgrown, largely abandoned and quite dangerous Necropolis shunned by the populace of Kos City at the best of times.

The middle of the night, on the trail of a quartet of very suspicious fellows, was not the best of times. But Alayda the Humakti, convinced that their quarry were vampires, would not wait - and so the trio followed the twisting track, to the overgrown and decrepit half-wall, through the yawning wrought iron gate, finding themselves surrounded by the a vast jumble of broken, tumbled monuments and decrepit mausolea. 

Even in the deep gloom of midnight beneath the lowering canyon walls that enclosed the necropolis on three sides, finding the wagon they had been following was readily accomplished. The nervous wickering of the horse was loud in the eerie quiet. As they approached, with varying degrees of silence and a surfeit of caution, the black expanse of an open doorway beckoned from the Mausoleum directly before the horse and wagon. Pausing only to free the horse from its traces and point it toward the gate and freedom, the heroes stepped inside to find a tumble of loose stones from the rear wall and back floor of the little tomb, and a long uneven passage that descended into the bowels of the cemetery. No light came from below, but a musty reek caught at Alayda's nose as she peered down, and scrape marks on the ground bespoke the passage of at least one large crate. Cotann conjured a pair of weak lights, affixed them to the swords of her companions, and gestured for the Humakti to precede her. 

Nothing assailed them as then slipped and scrambled down a rough slope some twenty feet to a natural cave cut into the limestone by centuries of seeping rainwater. The roof was low, the visibility terrible, and passages opened in at least two directions, all of which combined tp offer plenty of cover, the possibility of ambush and being outflanked. Cotann, until that moment convinced of her utility as an archer and spellcaster, sunk to all fours and uttered an inhuman snarl as her body jerked, skin flowing like water as black fur grew over smooth white flesh. A few rapid heartbeats and the lithe form of a black panther slipped free of her shift and equipment. Alayda, watching as the creature stalked forward, confident in the poor light and lowering environs, collected the witch's bow and other belongings, stowed them on her person, then following Kyrikos, who tailed their erstwhile scout into the larger of the passages that beckoned blackly before them.

The passage immediately opened up into a higher roomed of worked stone, partly visible in the weak witchlight. Two more passages led away into further darkness, one to their left, another leading deeper into what appeared to be a subterranean complex. A third opening to the right was sealed by an ornamented stone panel suggestive of a door. Cotann's feline eyes could see a another larger, similarly ornamented door, bearing writing she could not make out, in the shadows of the far end of the large room. Other than a bestial cough, she had no way to convey this information to her allies. 

Alayda moved toward the black opening on her left, her attempt at stealth ruined by the jingle of her harness. The witchlight from her longsword revealed an alcove carved into a thick projection of unhewn rock. Within, two walls were lined with niches from which peered gleaming white skulls, some toppled drunkenly on their sides. others upright as if grinning at their discovery. On the floor of the chamber lay two piles of black funereal garb which immediately flowed up to attack as two of the blackclad cultists revealed themselves. 

The Humakti was momentarily taken aback as a pair of curved swords sought her life, but parried each and riposted with a sweep of her longsword. The hissing assassin danced aside easily, her fangs long and gleaming white against the black of her gaping mouth. Alayda gave ground and the shrouded form of her attacker followed, only to be flanked by Cotann and Kyrikos, the one clawing her leg, the other opening a slash in her torso. Blood flowed red in the wavering light of two glowing blades. 

The second black-cloaked shape swept from the shadows, cutting with a gleaming longsword at the panther's exposed flank.  A shriek from the cat told of the weapon's success, as Cotann spun to face her new attacker. Faced with two foes, the first creature adopted a defensive stance and hurled a potent Befuddle at Kyrikos, but the will of the privateer was too strong and he surged forward cutting low as Alayda cut high. A flurry of blows and parries, and the fang-mouthed figure fell supine, immobile as her swords clattered to the ground.

Intent upon the second figure and the peril to the witch, neither Alayda not Kyrikos noticed the low sound of grinding stone, of pair of a dark figures that emerged from the smaller doorway. Only an anticipatory hiss of bloodlust gave away the presence of the pair of ambushers, and Alayda had just enough time to turn aside the downward smash of a bronze studded greatclub wielded by a pair of pale but powerful arms. She responded with a slash of her own, but the blow was caught by the club's haft, and the half-glimpsed figure circled away, hoping to turn the Humakti away from the other attacker who menaced both Alayda and Kyrikos.

With a roar that would freeze the will of a living opponent, Cotann leapt at the single foe at the mouth of the alcove, driving it to the ground under her talons and fangs. The curved blades of the adversary served her well, however as she raked the ribs of the feline's flanks to either side. The roar turned to a cry of anguish, but the great cat's victim lay unmoving in an expanding pool of blood that shone black in the flashing witchlight. Weakened but undaunted, Cotann stalked the second of the two ambushers, who lurked in the shadows, awaiting an opening if Kyrikos or Alayda should falter in their fight with the club-wielder.  

The lurker swept forward as Alayda took another sweep of the club on her blade and riposted with a lightning quick thrust that caught on the hidden armor of the club-man. Cotann moving more slowly from her wounds, leapt for the back of the dancing figure, but landed short with a frustrated snarl, then backed away quickly as her intended victim sprang forward, blade flashing. Kyrikos interposed himself, catching the sword that sought the cat's life, and hurling a cut of his own. Alayda, free of distraction, stepped forward, trusting to skill and the strength of her harness against the heavy blows of the great club. She closed inside the sweep of the bronze-studded head, took the slamming haft on her side and drove her sword into the throat of her foe. The blade thrust bloodily through the man's neck, tearing back the cowl and exposing a pale head, mouth wide and fangs flashing in its final agony. The Humakti shoved the figure away with her shoulder and it fell free of her blade to lay unmoving.

The last of the four cultist sought escape, but was brought down by Cotann, who leapt free of her prostrate victim to lick her wounds as Kyrikos and Alayda closed in from either side. The cat looked on with feline indifference as her allies cut the last cultist down in a matter of seconds. Panting, the trio looked around, suspicious of the shadows pressing on all sides. But there were no further furtive figures or attacks. Cotann's flesh flowed like candlewax as the body of the panther was replaced by the white flesh of her human form, now bowed and bloody, wounds clear on her sides and leg. A guttural snarl worthy of the great cat she had been greeted Alayda as she crouched to heal the wounds of the witch, but the Humakti did not hesitate.

It was soon clear that the last of the cultists had been dispatched. Cotann, blood-smeared but whole, conjureed a brighter witchlight as she shrugged into her shift, taking the proffered bow and other oddments from her companions. The further, larger door that only the panther had seen was revealed in the glow of the new light. Instantly the adventurers noted the similarities of design between the two panels. Seeing the four long boxes stacked to the left of the large door, but deciding that the other was the more compelling, they left the larger one for the time being and investigated the way from which the second pair of attackers had come. Within, was a short passage, dominated by a set of long niches in the side walls, filled with the detritus of scattered bones. More bones gleamed in the dust on the floor of the passage, clearly having been thrown there not long before by the cultists. Nothing stirred the dust in the air before them. The end of the passage beckoned with another panel like the first, this one broken jaggedly at waist height.

Looking through, it was clear that this place too had been searched, vigorously if not thoroughly, by the cultists. Niches were all but empty of remains which now carpeted the small chamber, surrounding a central stone plinth, the bones of its former resident indistinguishable from the others consigned to the floor. The end of the chamber held a placard with an inscription, the strange characters certainly of the same script as those on the large door in the central chamber. The adventurers returned to the main room and its door, but could no more decipher its message than they had the other. Cotann, peering with senses beyond the physical, perceived that there was potent magic imbued upon the door, and that there seemed to be further magic beyond. Fearing a powerful and deadly ward, she cautioned the others against trying to force their way beyond. It seemed clear to them all that the writing on the door would reveal the method of passage.

They turned their attention to the bodies of the cultists, On close inspection they found that, while they did superficially resemble vampires, the resemblance was achieved by habit, cosmetics, dress, and by cunningly affixed and carefully carved artificial vampire fangs. The trio remembered the attack that they had witnessed in the Minihouse of Broyhoysel, in which one of the "vampires" had bitten the arm of a brawler and drawn blood, so it appeared that the fangs were to some considerable degree functional. Cotann and Kyrikos expressed a certain disappointment in the discovery. Alayda, with her greater knowledge of the undead, felt more relieved than disappointed. Glancing at the large stone door with its strange inscription, she could not help but think that the others might regret their enthusiasm before too long.

Kyrikos, bent over the body of the club-wielder, drew a scroll tube from the corpse's belt, and cried, "Eureka"! Unrolling the parchment, the script in tongue of the Holy Country, which was close enough to the Sartarite they all shared, the trio read with interest:

If you seek me -

In the shadow of the Hoplon,

Lies the city of the sleepers.

Bring gifts and guile in equal measure,

And you will gain what you deserve.

 

Three set of eyes looked up form the parchment, wondering as to the author of the message, and whether it was penned by the same hand that carved the mysterious messages on the doors. Trying the phrase while standing before the door produced no noticeable effect. Their frustration, or conversation regarding the note was, however, cut short by the sound of a horse screaming.

Rushing to the surface, the plight of the horse instantly became obvious. Its harness, having been caught upon the refuse and ironwork prevalent throughout the cemetery, made the creature panic, which had drawn the attention of the shambling dead currently closing on the terrified animal. Alayda, uttering an oath to her grim god, charged, and the others followed. Together they made short work of their foes and, calming the horse, led it back to the wagon, hitched the two, and gathered what goods they though worth hauling back to Kos City. Seeing the stirring of other zombies all around them, they vowed to go to the city, have the mysterious inscription deciphered, and then return to the deeper mystery of the stone door.

To be Continued in Part Three!

 

 

 

 

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