The King Is Dead

The party had bedded down for the night in one of the dire corbies’ bedrooms on the 2nd floor of Brinewall Castle – with hindsight, perhaps not the wisest of choices, since they had no idea how many of the creatures inhabited the castle. About an hour after they closed the door, they heard loud squawking from the dining hall outside – apparently some more dire corbies had returned and found the bodies of their slain brethren.

The Mute Bard

The battle in the throne room was continuing. Only one surviving dire corby was still fighting, while another slept, and the fighters were trying to surround Kikonu, self-proclaimed “King of Brinewall”, who had somehow stolen Sandoval’s voice. The odd little man didn’t seem very concerned, however, and continued to taunt them, spouting nonsense rhymes in Sandoval’s voice: “I’ll steal your eyes with sorrowful sighs,” or “You’d best take heed – you’re going to bleed.”

Over the Wall

After Ameiko fell into a coma, the party decided to head on to Brinewall “just to take a look around”. The next thing they knew, Bella had a grappling hook over the wall of the castle and was starting to climb. Maybe the word “reconnoiter” didn’t mean what they thought it did.

On To Brinewall

The next morning, Ameiko seemed more her old self, as if some weight had been lifted from her. The caravan continued north, crossing the Velashu River, and striking out across the Velashu Uplands. A few days after leaving Roderic’s Cove, Shinjiro awoke feeling extremely weak, with a fever and sweats. His skin had an unhealthy pallor, and gave off a faint smell of decay. Marie had never seen anything like it, but Koya took one look and nodded her head. “Zombie Rot,” she said confidently. “Must’ve come from getting sprayed by all that zombie pus back in that damned mine. It’ll probably run its course and you’ll be fine.”

Aftermath

The stench of blood, unwashed bodies, and decaying flesh filled the air of the chamber as the party struggled to catch their breath after defeating the necromancer Vasharian, the druid Golubrin, and their cannibal followers. They had managed to rescue young Isabelle, but had arrived too late for the Stark lad. Their victory seemed hollow as they stared at the bloody remains of the teenaged boy.