1 The Set Up

Party characters:

Pices: Human wizard, specializing in the flow of life energy, a sullen and sickly man who always keeps to himself and has debts to mysterious backers. Seeks to study the forbidden art of necromancy in peace.

Sophie: Human wizard, specializing in divination, a woman with wild red hair and far too innocent for the adventuring line of work. Wants to open a bakery with sugary treats inspired from every culture.

Batul: Orc cleric, specializing in the healing arts, a once timid orphan whose desire is to ease the suffering of those she can and live an honest life. Dreams of retiring to open a tavern somewhere on the coast, marrying and having children.

Marr: sea elf ranger: specializes in cross dimensional portals, a man who works best with others as his impulsive nature can lead him to make troublesome decisions. Wants to put the reward money towards buying his own ship and spending the rest of his life sailing the waters and exploring to his dying day.

Bhrams: Dragonborn barbarian, specializes in fighting big monsters, a man that devotes his life to a dragon goddess of the hunt, fighting worthy foes is his worship. Took the job because it guaranteed his ability to fight prey which would make excellent sacrifices to his goddess, his only plans for the future are to hunt bigger and deadlier prey.

Dalren: Dwarven fighter: specializing in pitched combat, a man who speaks only the dwarven language, has a love of hard liquor and a fear of the supernatural. If all goes well he intends to quit his job as a guide and become a blacksmith, forging magical armaments for wealth and placing his name in history through his enduring creations.

Thrane: Human rogue: specializing in scouting, a man who was orphaned at a young age, cautious and spent his whole life either in or around ancient tombs. Fears his life will be insignificant and totally forgotten within fifty years of his death. Seeks to find the secret of eternal life.

The party of adventurers sighed in relief as they had at last collected the final key. They'd spent days in the bones of a dead civilization's capital, solving puzzles and fighting guardians to find them all, but at long last they had everything they needed to finish the job.

And what job might that be? A wizard had been cursed by an ancient object of power while she gathered reagents on the island nation of Kavir, this curse progressed slowly and after a couple of months she was no longer able to personally seek its source or end. So she did what every rich and somewhat powerful person does when they have a problem they can't solve, they hire a band of adventurers to deal with it for them.

Sadly, this was not a band when they first came together but a random grouping of people who had never met, lured by either the prize of gold and magical equipment, the challenge or whatever personal goals they sought to achieve. Two human wizards, an orc cleric, sea elf ranger, dragonborn barbarian, dwarven fighter, and a human rogue.

It took months to find the ruined city where an ancient being was rumored to make its roost, a prior prophecy having led their path.

Without further delay they set out to camp and make their final preparations for tomorrow. After all, their employer was not long for the world by now. Perhaps a week at most. If she died before they completed their mission, then the many brushes with death and hardships they'd suffered would be for nothing. The multitude of hags, cultists, necromancers and undead, faced with no purpose. Yet neither could they collect their reward if they died from not being prepared, the casters had depleted some of their magic and the fighters needed to recover their wounds.

This would be the story of their final obstacle, the dungeon itself.

Thrane double checks their stash of loot and smiles to himself upon confirming that they had all ten of the 'keys', small stones with a magical aura and an icon to represent their designated slot, or 'keyhole'. It's an odd system but the rogue wasn't about to question it too much, he'd personally inspected the door and found no signs of it being trapped physically while the wizards claimed that the only issue would be if they placed the stones in the wrong slot. If they did that, then the stones would return to where their resting places and they'd have to do the ten trials all over again.

He scratches at his totally unkept and untrimmed beard, they had spent almost the entirety of their three month journey in the wilds, having started in the port capital of Kavir and returned after some ten days in the jungle to get their bearings; ever since then they'd been on their own and the state of their equipment as well as their personal grooming showed the toll.

Filthy clothes, battle-worn armor, nicked weapons. That doesn't even begin to cover the stench of body odor which clung to every member of the party. Every member that is, save the dragonborn who's scaly hide did not sweat and usually smelled of dirt as he would bathe himself in it.

"Lucky bastard…"

The envious human mutters under his breath while looking from the corner of his eyes at the hard black scales which protected his party member not only from stench, but the disease carrying bugs which had harassed the party in their early endeavors. Bhrams adhered to a set of morals, but what exactly those morals are were still a bit of a mystery to the human; the hunter had no issue attacking his prey while they are unaware, yet adamantly refuses to use poison upon his glaive.

It's while he ponders upon these things that a short yet heavily armored figure walks up behind Thrane and gives him a pat on the shoulder before speaking. Thrane was the only other party member who spoke dwarvish, so it was natural for the two to gravitate towards one other since he had to translate everything for Dalren. Over the months they'd become fast friends. "I say we celebrate the day with a stiff drink! Won't get another chance like this once we're inside."

The mention of alcohol quickly erased his jealous thoughts and brings a smile to the scraggly human as he turns around. "Y'know that sounds like a great idea, but first I want to do something about all this mess."

The statement is married to a gesture of his face, the mess in question, being his hair, not only the wild man beard he sported but the long and annoying strands which got in his eyes every so often. It's hard to pick locks, spot secret doors and spy traps when you constantly have to slick your hair back.

Dalren raises a bushy brow at the rogue before shaking his head with a laugh: "If you trim your hair, you just might pass for an oversized but respectable dwarf!" The crack brings a wry grin to Thrane who only takes a second to think of some vaguely witty reply; "I guess a sign of a respectable dwarf is their stench if the only thing I need fix is the hair."

This jab just brings the fighter to flash a toothy grin and fold his arms. "Careful lad, don't forget whose supplying all the alcohol." It had been one of the 'necessities' to the dwarf at the start of their journey, 3 personal kegs of spiced honey liquor. Now of course those kegs had long since been emptied but one of the magical items which they'd claimed on the way was a magical iron tankard. Normally it had the face of an upset dwarf on the front, but if activated it would fill to the brim and show a beaming grin where once had been a frown.

Thrane just rolls his eyes and messes with Dalren's hair. "Oh come on, we both know you wouldn't deprive me like that… Besides, you could probably do with a little upkeep yourself, hell we all could use a bath and haircut." It was this that made his mind up and brought him to the edge of camp. "Hey, I'm gonna head to the river and wash up."

Some of the party acknowledges him, others give him a look as if to say 'why get clean when we're going to be out in the wild for another few months anyway?'

With a sigh of disappointment he shakes his head and heads out on his own, thinking that at least one or two others might have agreed to come and clean themselves off. Still, he wasn't about to let that stop him from taking care of his own, he'd been covered in muck and grime for too long and if he's going to die out here then he'll at least feel halfway clean before doing so.

Keeping to the shadows and overgrown plants, the rogue makes sure to avoid any trouble along the way before finding a nice sheltered spot beneath a bridge to strip and dive into the soothing water. Nothing really can compare to scrubbing yourself as clean as possible after you've been wallowing in your own filth for such an extensive period of time, yet he couldn't afford to hang about for too long as there were still threats to be had around the ruins, predators and venomous snakes were probably all that was left but it doesn't hurt to err on the side of caution.

Thrane only lets himself sit peacefully for a handful of minutes before collecting his things and heading back to base, he could cut his beard there after all and be far safer doing so.

After returning he cut his beard with a dagger, ate some cooked meat from a panther they killed and drank with Dalren until he eventually retired for the night. He'd smiled and laughed as they hung out, but the only thought that lingered in his mind as he turned from all the others was this.

'I don't want to die here, I don't want to become a walking corpse like all the others.'