The Temple of the Three Faces Part II

SESSION 5 Part i

PCs

Talos Redwand, 4th level Conjurer
Kieren, 4th level Druid
Shaw Ashcroft, 3rd level Ranger (Justifier)
Eswin, 4th level Elven Thief

NPCS

Knobby Greenburrow, Halfling Cartographer

FROM THE JOURNAL OF KNOBBY GREENBURROW, CARTOGRAPHER EXTRAORDINARE

Tenthmonth 23^rd 606AT

Today we experienced a bit of a setback of sorts in our efforts to find the scrolls of prophecy in the Monastery. If anything can be taken from this it is that we must be more cautious as we investigate the ruins; but something tells me this band of adventurers has a long way to go before they learn how to be more cautious.

The day started out well enough. We arose from our slumber at the old ladies’ hut to find an erstwhile member of the band had joined us. Eswin the elf had tracked our progress through the hills and made it safely to the old ladies’ hut.

The ladies gave us directions to the monastery, indicating that taking the path through the hills would be circuitous and long; we fashioned a bit of a work around, however. Before leaving their abode, we were offered a piece of advice and a promise of help from the kindly old women. The help they said would come in the form of information. If we managed to heal their cursed sister, they would tell us how it might be possible to defeat mad King Aldurnus and bring victory to Beltigost in the coming war. The advice was simple: a wise man knows when he is outmatched.

After a bit of breakfast, we said our goodbyes. Talos, Shaw, Eswin and myself hopped into their magical bag while Kieren magicked himself into a bat, picked up the bag and flew us most of the way to the monastery. When Kieren put us down we found ourselves on a pathway not far from the monastery. After a brief battle with some wandering goblins, we crossed through a clearing of withered grass and desolate trees. Another path leading off from the clearing got us up to the monastery.

And oh, what a breathtaking sight it was. The old monastery sat atop a hill, its walls covered in creeping vines and moss. The archway was fashioned crudely into the faces of three women. Behind the monastery, in the distance were the rocky Greycloak Mountains. High above in a bright blue autumn sky circled a pair of Griffons. Inside the walls of the compound, we found a small barracks (which was empty), a warm pool of brackish water, an overgrown garden, a tomb of some sort and the crumbling monastery itself. Hot steam issued forth from a crevasse in the middle of the compound – which I took to be evidence of the fire-breathing dragon which is rumoured to live below the hill.

We decided to tackle the small tomb first. The stone door was carved with a web-like pattern and an inscription that read: The Faithful Warriors of the Thread. Pushing the door open was easy. Inside we found ourselves faced with twelve closed doors and a statue of a proud warrior with an emerald secured to his chest. Seeing before us an easy score, we sent the elf Eswin to pry the emerald off the chest of the statue. No sooner had he put his blade to the gem however, the twelve doors creaked open and we found ourselves surrounded by twelve moldering skeletons in rusted plate mail brandishing swords. Caught unawares, they struck several telling blows against our number, but in the end our superior abilities proved the difference and we made quick work of them. We packed up their longswords along with a magical dagger we found in the tomb and secured them away in one of our magic bags.

After clearing the tomb area, we headed to the monastery itself. We passed through several rooms containing statues of the goddesses and paintings depicting stories from their mythology. We also came across a pair of drunken ogres who we managed to kill. The ogres were keeping several primitive looking men captive, so we rescued these hapless creatures and set them free.

After rooting through most of the monastery, we made our way to a garden out back. It was filled with blackened and sickly trees, several statues of warriors and a crystal clear fountain. Having heard that a fountain in the monastery could grant a wish, every one was eager to test the waters of the fountain. Most of us found its waters to bestow curses upon us making is slightly less sharp-witted or physically weaker. Only Talos felt the waters course through his veins making him slightly stronger. A moment after the last of us had imbibed the fountain’s waters we heard a cackling in the garden. That is where our luck ran out.

Investigating further, we found a hideous looking woman crouched in the far corner of the garden behind one of the trees. She was wearing a tattered and soiled wedding gown, had a pair of grey wings sprouting from her back and her face was covered up so that we could not see her eyes. She was playing in what looked to be powdered stone and speaking gibberish. When we approached she turned to us and rose up to her full height of over seven feet. Correctly guessing that this was the cursed sister, we desperately tried to cure her. Having heard that she could only be healed by the purest waters of Danu, Stabby the ranger threw his waterskin at her and doused her in water. As Batty the druid informed us, this would have no effect. We would have to gather waters from the Unicorn Run, a fabled river in the Greycloaks thought to be the source of all life. Stabby’s actions however, had upset the old crone. In a horrifying display, she unfolded her wings, revealing ten eyes embedded within. Stabby and Batty looked on mesmerized and were instantly turned to stone. Cackling at the whims of fate, the old crone turned around to resume her work with the powdered stone.

Eurayle the Cursed Sister

Terrified of being turned to stone like our companions, the elf, Wheezy and I stuffed our new “statued” companions into our magical sack and left the monastery in all haste, hoping the old ladies at the cottage could help us bring them back to life. Without Batty to fly us back, we had to take the long way around. Along the way we were assaulted twice by some large insects, but managed to put them down easily with our slings and arrows. When we arrived back at the cottage, much to our relief, the old ladies agreed to turn our companions back to flesh. We were however, forced to give them our newly won magical dagger in exchange.

We are now preparing to make our second foray into the monastery tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll show a little more restraint and realize when we are outmatched. Of course I have no intention of going back to that cursed garden until we travel to this fabled Unicorn Run. Hopefully my luck holds out and I survive this adventure.