The squad of risen skeletons advanced upon Bancroft. Two bore sword and shield, closing to melee, while the rest took up positions with bows. Bancroft called once again upon the power of nature to turn them back. One of the sword wielders fled, but the rest remained intent, and their arrows struck deep from within the darkness. Bancroft staggered back up the stairs. Their aim would suffer in the light of day.
Helfen’s prayers to her Goddess of fortune were answered and Bancroft’s wounds began to close, but the skeletons were still coming. More arrows clattered off his armor and shield, and the remaining sword wielding skeleton bypassed two of the others, heading straight for Bancroft. Their orders must be to retrieve the sword at any cost.
From their positions nearby, Gravelgnasher and Druidly fired missiles, both magical and otherwise, at the skeletons, but none of them fell. Helfen tried once more to turn the undead herself and her spell failed in a coruscating explosion of shadow. Some malign influence was interfering with prayers here.
With spells failing and treasure in hand, it was time to return to Helix.
The first order of business was securing a night’s rest at the inn. When Bancroft dug into his purse to drop gold on the counter for a room, the coin burned his hand. The young cleric cursed and dropped the coin. Something new to worry about, perhaps a curse from the God that had protected his skeletons. Making the trip to the local wizard Mazzah to have the blade identified took on new urgency. Luckily, the wound healed normally overnight, and the wizard was willing to see the group.
After some awkward negotiations over payment and handling of the gold, Mazzah agreed to identify the blade. He named it a Sword of Sundering, a magical blade that could shatter a gem upon its hilt to protect its wielder once a day. Its enchantments would allow it to harm magical creatures, but in all other ways it performed as a normal blade would perform. Mazzah confirmed the blade bore a curse, such that the touch of gold would harm the wielder. Bancroft had never been a greedy man, and the curse did not bother him. Silver and copper coins would see to his needs.
Shockingly, most of the others wanted to sell the blade. Mazzah claimed it was worth 250 gold, a princely sum. Yet a blade that could save a life was even more valuable than that, as indeed was a blade that could harm the more powerful creatures that dwelled below.
In the end, Bancroft’s argument prevailed, and he kept the sword. No doubt the sword’s curse that prevented him handling gold had mollified the rest of the party, who seemed more concerned with money than survival in their new and more dangerous profession. But then, caring more for money than survival seemed like a prerequisite for a career in adventuring. There were far safer professions.
With the blade and its curse identified, the party decided to return to the barrowmaze the next day. Statues and skulking rats and a pair of opals called to their greed.
With two clerics and a wizard in the party, magical light blossomed as they prepared at the entrance to the barrow. The doors were closed as they had been when the group left. Druidly listened at the doors, but heard nothing. Bancroft led the way inside, past the first pair of statues, reaching the second pair. To the left, one of the secret doors was open. If the rats had returned to their lair, that’s where they would be. The bodies of bandits, rats, skeletons and scorpions had all been stripped bare. There was nothing left to loot.
The plan was for Bancroft to take the lead, Druidly close behind. As soon as they made contact with the rats, Druidly would send them into slumber. The terrain made that tricky, as the statues restricted movement and the rats were too numerous to fit. It would likely require more than one spell to catch all of them, and that meant Bancroft would have to hold off those who remained awake. The rest of the group hung back. Perhaps they could contribute once the rats were unconscious, but advancing further would simply make it harder to avoid including them in the area effect of the spell.
As soon as Bancroft approached the secret door to the left, the rats were alerted by the light of his glowing shield and swarmed forth. He was surrounded and beset on all sides before he could call upon his faith to protect him. The rats bit and scratched and tore at him with their claws, inflicting repeated wounds that carried a virulent stench that spoke of disease.
Druidly too, took wounds, but recovered enough to cast his spell. He could not catch all the rats at once, despite the planning, but both men survived and fled toward the entrance. Bancroft scattered a pouch of caltrops along the path of their retreat, hoping to damage and delay the rats if they followed. The two adventurers closed the doors behind them at the entrance and breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe for the moment.
The rats did not follow immediately, doubtless busy waking each other from the enchantment. With the doors closed, the party discussed their next steps. The rats were alerted, and might well swarm the door. Opening the doors to check might allow the rats to force the door, but might also allow Druidly to put those beyond into slumber again. If he did so, the rest of the group would need to advance quickly through the sleeping rats to slay those that remained before they could wake the others.
The difference between disaster and success could be as simple as who managed to act first when the doors opened.
