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Pathstomper

Bonesmaher, Ansmaro, King Joe, and Vrondi Piscine are out in a grove outside of the town of Harrowstone. Vrondi nervously says, “So the stranger was seen heading this way this morning, or that’s what the Weltway Pub attendant said. Ansmaro’s neck and back fins stiffen, “Are you sure someone would leave town and hang out in an old abandoned apple orchard?” King Joe waves his arms and responds in his autoned voice, “It IS near a major road.” They mill around until Bonesmasher yelps, “I found tracks!” and points at them with much enthusiasm. Vrondi and the others gather around the trail and notice something. “There are three sets,” Ansmaro points out and reaches for his pistol just in case. They notice the three trails go off and disappear some ways off, and Vrondi pulls out a copper piece and focuses on it. “What are YOU doing there, salamander?“ Ansmaro asks skeptically and sarcastically. Vrondi chants and the copper piece begins to glow as he mutters between chants, “I’m beginning to sense thoughts, maybe our own, but in a few I’ll know how many thinking entities are here.” Ansmaro looks at Bonesmasher and teases, “That leaves you out there, buddy.” Within a minute Vrondi stops chanting and spouts, “There are others here!!! At least eight!”
Applause is heard from behind the group and three shadowy figures stand behind them. “So these are the award winners tracking us,” says one to the other two. “Indeed,” says the central one followed by a malignant chuckle, “Why do you pursue us so?” Ansmaro spits, “By force.” Vrondi responds, “Because I was hired to and have a duty to perform.” Bonessmasher wails, “For a good fight!” Finally with King Joe finally saying, “For glory and prestige!” Ansmaro looks at Vrondi and whispers, “I thought you said there were eight of these guys.” “Shhhpaaarrr!” Bonesmasher shrieks in pain as he swerves around and the group notices two arrows lodged into his midsection. Then from behind some trees come four figures and Ansmaro notes and points to a fifth being behind a tree, “Hey look over there!” The figures turn out, on better inspection, hobgoblinoids. The figures in front of the group laugh and the central one barks, “Deal with these hobgoblinoid mercenaries! We have better things to do than deal with incompetent curs!”

With that, the battle begins! Bonesmasher pulls the arrows from his torso and begins to foam at the mouth with rage. A leading hobgoblinoid with a sword and shield charges Bonesmasher and strikes him deeply with the blade of his sword. “Sphhaaaarrr!” cries Bonesmasher from his small head a cry of pain and anger blasts out. Ansmaro fires his pistol and deals damage to the hobgoblinoid guttersnipe that fired the arrows. The guttersnipe shrugs off the pain, pulls out two arrows, places them in his bow, and takes aim at Vrondi. Ansmaro, all the sudden, cries out in pain, as one of the hobgoblinoids stabs him with two sharp knives in each hand. One of them charges at Ansmaro with a large, serrated blade. Luckily, the hobgoblinoid just grazes Ansmaro with it. Another hobgoblinoid throws off his cloak and reveals a chiseled physique before clapping his hands together and focusing his internal power-creating a glow around himself. Vrondi casts “MAGIC MISSILE!” and hurls it at the guttersnipe-striking its target and causing it to shriek in pain. King Joe pulls out an alkahest bomb and hurls it at the guttersnipe. It misses the hobgoblinoid, but the explosion covers him in the alkahest acid compound. The hobgobinloid struggles and loses his footing from pain.
The next round sees Bonesmasher grab his pigmon club with both hands, use the rage power “Powerful blow, and use the feat “Power Attack” to give him a massive advantage in damage dealing. He then strikes at the hobgoblinoid leader and deals a significant amount of damage to him; making the creature cry out in extreme pain from the devastating blow. The leader recovers quickly and rises to his feet. He quickly delivers a strike to Bonesmasher’s torso and after dealing a deep gash in his hide, the hobgoblinoid bashes Bonesmasher against the head with his shield. Bonesmasher reels in pain and is bleeding from various wounds. The guttersnipe rolls around, trying to get the alkahest acid off of him, while Ansmaro, in pain, drops his pistol and slams his hand into the knife-wielding hobgoblinoid. The hobgoblinoid screams in surprise and horror, and Ansmaro pulls back revealing a punch dagger. The duel-wielding backstabber strikes again at Ansmaro, dealing a moderate wound to the Rayja’s back fins that ooze with stab wounds. The hobgoblinoid, that got sneak attacked, tries a feeble attempt to attack Ansmaro and almost crashes onto his face, because of how well Ansmaro swerves to the right. The hobgoblinoid monk-then a voice from outside of this reality cries out as the muscled hobgoblinoid is about to move and the scene comes to a freeze!
“A hobgoblinoid monk? Really?” questions Richard, the crew cut-wearing portly guy at the table, grasping his glass of some carbonated beverage tightly. “Come on, you know a martial-centric, lawful race like them should have some type of hand-to-hand fighter,” responds a dark-haired stocky fellow with a grey sweatshirt. “Well what next? My swashbuckler is luckily avoiding being ganked; Steve over there was criticalled on by the leader of these mercs, then whacked upside the head, and stabbed again; while now we have Iron-Fisted Ugly over here,” cries Richard again. The horn-rim glasses-wearing GM smiles, “Well that’s what happened. Richard, you and Cedric even said you wanted a challenge after last session.” He smiles at the green die in hand and clears his throat, “So where were we?” Steve remarks sarcastically about his character, Bonesmasher, from across the table, “Me being a blood sprinkler and the hobgoblinoid monk is where we left off.”
With that, the hobgoblinoid monk flings itself at King Joe with one leg forced outward. It deals a powerful kick to King Joe’s mid-torso that ends with a spark, a flash, and a loud clang! King Joe almost trembles to the ground; holding onto his midsection with one arm. The hobgoblinoid lands on his feet in a crouching, defensive position. Vrondi pulls out some amber beads from a pouch attached to his belt. He takes one in one hand and chants, making it glow bright with yellow light. He throws one bead at the guttersnipe, it flies through the air with a bright yellow glow, until it strikes the hobgoblinoid bowman, and detonates into an electric blast that causes the hobgoblinoid to fall over dead. King Joe, on the other hand, rights himself and throws a punch into the face of the hobgoblinoid monk. Stunned, the hobgoblinoid grabs King Joe’s arm and twists it into a lock.
The next round begins with Bonesmasher’s desperate duel. Bonesmasher does another two-handed club attack upon the leader, who blocks it with his shield! The shield flies off the leader’s arm and lands on the ground about seven feet from him, bearing the huge dent inflicted by Bonesmasher’s club. Bonesmasher uses his elemental bloodline and opens his mouth, spurting chunks of rocky pebbles at the assailant. By this time, the hobgoblinoid leader and Bonesmasher both are looking quite badly beat. The leader, in a sudden rush, turns tail and runs. Bonesmasher gets to make an attack of opportunity that spurs him to make a one-handed club strike against his fleeing target that shatters his bones and makes the hobgoblinoid fall dead in a lifeless mass. Ansmaro opens his mouth and fires his yellow arch blast that connects with its target, then quick draws his rapier, and luckily deals the finishing blow to the inept, serrated-blade knife wielder. The final groan of death comes from the cloaked hobgoblinoid as the other, behind Ansmaro tries to strike again and misses with both blades. The hobgoblinoid monk grasps on tightly to King Joe’s arm and strikes King Joe’s front torso with his palm-dealing little damage, but still impeding King Joe from fighting back. Vrondi throws an amber globe again at the monk, it detonates and does electrical damage to both the monk and King Joe. The shock forces the monk to let go and regain his bearings. King Joe shakes off the mild damage and strikes at the monk, and misses due to the hobgoblinoid’s reflexes.
The next round starts off with Bonesmasher charging at the monk. He misses barely and the monk gets to counterattack with a kick that sends Bonesmasher flat on his rear. Ansmaro uses a quick slash of his rapier and another oral blast to knockback and daze the hobgoblinoid attacker armed with the two knives. The hobgoblinoid monk’s fist takes on an eerie, white flamed glow, before trying to strike at the prone Red King. Luckily, Bonesmasher rolls out of the way in time, as the monk strikes the tree behind him and causes the tree to splinter and burn. Vrondi makes a bunch of gestures, “Acid splash!” is cast, and acid pours onto the hobgoblinoid monk. He screams and writhes in anguish and surprise, while King Joe bullrushes him. The thud of the monk’s body as his goes prone against the ground is still drowned by the monk’s cries.
The final round involves Bonesmasher picking up a large rock and hurling it at the downed monk. “WHACK!” and “YAAARRRGGHHH!” are heard as it connects with its target. The monk attempts to get up, but falls back down to its knees because of the burning acid. Ansmaro luckily delivers a vicious blow to the other hobgoblinoid and twists the blade till the creature gives its final cry. Vrondi uses “Magic Missile” one last time and it strikes the downed monk before Vrondi glows brightly and a thunderbolt springs from his two antlers. The thunderbolt causes the acid to explode and the monk’s body stops moving as the smell of smoke and charred meat fill the air.
After the dust settles, everyone stops and breathes, except for King Joe who can’t. The group is badly beaten and King Joe opens one of his multi-colored, chest plates and passes around two vials to Ansmaro and Bonesmasher. “Drink them. Vials of cure moderate wounds potion,” King Joe says in his mechanized voice. The two drink the clear fluid in the little, green glass bottles heartily. After they finish, their wounds begin to heal visibly. “I don’t think you two won’t be at 100%, but it’s something,” King Joe adds. Ansmaro smiles and hands the bottle back to King Joe, “That was really thoughtful. Now I’m not leaking everywhere and riddled with holes.” Ansmaro then runs over to the hobgoblinoid bodies.
He rummages around, checking for little bags or pouches. “What are you doing?” questions King Joe. “Just lootin’!” Ansmaro says with a big smile before returning to his kleptomania. “Won’t you share?” Vrondi Piscine asks in absolute chagrin. “Finders keepers,” barks back Ansmaro. He finds a pouch on the hob that used the two knives and opens it. “Rats! Just twelve silver pieces and four copper!” he exclaims after counting his meager gains. Vrondi checks the pouch on the monk and finds a handful of gold and silver pieces. Ansmaro sees this and bolts over to Vrondi who responds with, “No way. Finders keepers remember?” Ansmaro gives him a glare and the scene fades to black.
The next scene opens up to Ravengro prison’s innards where Silver Fang charges at three Mudons and smashes one of the undead creatures in the head with his mace. The creature’s skull shatters and its body falls to the ground lifelessly. Silver Fang, again, strikes out and his blow connects with the spine of one of the other two creatures. The bone cracks and shatters, causing the creature’s body to fall apart and its still active skull to cry out. Silver Fang slams himself into the other and then uses a power attack to the head to finish off the third. The other head chatters away and Silver Fang reaches for a vial of holy water. He pours the fluid onto the skull and says aloud a prayer for restless spirits. The skull morphs into another saurian skull that of what was a Neosaurus. “Mudon are just restless saurian undead that take on that form after all,” Silver Fang says to himself. He grabs up his gear and proceeds through the dank hallway and sees what appears to be a door to what looks like the warden’s office.
The door has a gold plaque that has been worn and scarred from years or neglect and from the fire that tore through the prison. Silver Fang investigates the door and turns the knob quietly. It opens to a room that seems like it was the warden’s office. It has a massive, mahogany desk that looks to have suffered fire damage and been soaked by water from a hole in the ceiling. He looks around, opening drawers, finding nothing but charred/water-damaged papers. He hears some soft weeping and turns around, only to great shock that a ghost is there in the middle of the room! It appears to be a Shaplay female in a puffy dress who’s weeping heavily. “Umm…excuse me? Are you alright?” asks Silver Fang, not having any idea what to say to a ghost of all things. “My husband… They took my husband,” the ghost responds in a sorrowful voice with her giant eyes showing what appears to be no emotion. “Who did? Who’s your husband?” asks Silver Fang in a very confused tone. “The warden. The three Ultras kidnapped him,” she says and an image appears before Silver Fang.

The image of the courtyard of the prison under a half moon appears in front of Silver Fang’s eyes. A ghost of a Shaplay in uniform is being dragged out by two Ultras with mystical chains. He writhes in pain, while a cloaked figure stands in front of him. The figure has in hand, the item that was taken that the group has been hunting. It looks like a metallic cone with various odd symbols etched into it. The item glows and reveals a magical binding that goes throughout the prison’s walls. The ghost of the warden is put in the middle of a circle made with chalk with great force. He pleads with the Ultras not to do anything to him, or the ghosts will be released. His voice is not even truly heard, just whisps of sound heard by Silver Fang. He begs and pleads as the artifact glows with an eerie, fiendish light. The cloaked figure reveals a blade that glows just like the artifact and stabs the warden in the chest. His ghost dissipates as the binding that surrounds the prison does as well. Horrible wails of sorrow and hatred are overheard as the vision ends.
“The five ghosts that started the riot years ago will lead the others out of the prison and overrun the town!” the ghost of the warden’s wife exclaims in horror. Silver Fang, still recovering from the vision rubs his temple, and responds, “How do we stop them?” “The four of the five…I cannot sense them anymore…” she wanders. “Yeah and how do we stop them, lady?” questions Silver Fang again. “A great horror has replaced them… Oh! Check the room two doors down on the left. It’s the possession room. The safe on the wall have the five’s personal affects,” she says before fading away. Her disembodied voice follows by saying, “They are in the dungeon. Down the hallway, at the end, is the door to main atrium that should have the lift to the dungeon below,” she says in what seems to be a mere whisper. “Hey wait!” he cries, but it is too late, she has left. “Curses…” he mutters.
He leaves the room and goes off to where she said was the property room. He opens the door to a dank, musty room and flashes his bullseye lantern around. There are shelves that have various boxes, bags, and bottles that adorn the dank room. Silver Fang investigates the shelves and spends a good half hour looking around for useful items. He does find four bottles of cure minor wounds, two bottles of cure moderate wounds, two vials of smelling salts, a vial of holy water, a bag of minor spell components, and a series of alchemical substances. He pockets them so he may better equip his group. He sighs and believes finding what he is looking for possibly hopeless in the piles of crap that litter the shelves, until he spies a wall safe.

Silver Fang inspects it for several minutes, however then he realized he’d never be able to figure out the combination on the safe. He resorts to one thing he knows will work-blunt force trauma! He continually assails the safe’s metal façade with his mace, thus making many dents. He takes a breather after a few minutes and resumes till the safe breaks open and he investigates what’s inside. He finds a rusty old flute, a small silver hammer, a rusty hand-axe, a charm bracelet with various religious symbols on it, a spell book, and a medal of some sort that has been worn beyond recognition. He takes them, believing that they will aid in the battle against the undead. He sets off out of the room to the location of the dungeon entrance.
He arrives at the location in a main atrium that is littered with a mix of crude weapons and mangled, burned weapons with armor that the guards would have used and remains. He inspects a lift that is horribly damaged, after meandering through the remains of prisoners and guards. “Curses! It is totally broke,” he exclaims to himself and feels a coldness from behind him. He turns and a ghost of a Guts guard stands behind him. “I’m so sad. I died here and it’s so lonely,” he says to Silver Fang in a sorrowful, defeated tone. “I’m sorry. I really am. I’ll put you at rest, alright?” Silver Fang carefully says to the apparition. It nods solemnly and Silver Fang grasps his holy symbol of Apsu and prays for the restless soul. It takes about a minute, doing the right prayer and making the right gestures. The soul smiles and fades away and then Silver Fang sighs, “Alright now to the big time stuff.” He draws closer to the edge of the aperture that the lift occupied once and flashes his light down the shaft. He sees the light pierce the murky darkness, but it’s a good thirty foot drop to a stone floor below. “I’m really not going to be able to get down there without help,” he mutters to himself and has an idea. He starts to mutter a few magic words and gestures a bit to activate the spell, “Sense Evil.” The spell takes effect and he feels evil vaguely around him, however down in the dungeon it feels excessively powerful. “Crap! It just radiates with evil down there,” he says to himself and then thinks aloud, “I better turn back so I can plan the next course of action.”
He turns back and with little problem he exits the building. He wades again through the water at the ruined wall and once again gets covered in mud and grime, before heading back to the Broken Tusk Inn, before the scene shifts to black.

A white screen with big green, bold letters that read, “MONSTER FACTS” and a skeletal creature wanders on to screen in a slow, jerky motion. Above it appears the heading “MUDON” in big, red letters. It slowly tilts its head upwards to look at the type and seems to be stuck in place. Vrondi Piscine narrates and starts off with, “Mudons are a lesser undead type that are quite common. They are slow, dull-witted, and are rather placid compared to most undead.” The Mudon lowers its head and shambles about. “The origin of a Mudon is as follows,” as Vrondi says this, the Mudon wanders off screen and three saurian kaiju arrive on screen: a Salamandora, a Silvergon, and a Gomora. “When some members of the saurian group die, their souls pass on to the hereafter, but sometimes residue from the spirit still persists,” Vrondi points out as the three fall onto their backs, have “X’s” for eyes before they shift into skeletons, and have angelic forms of themselves with halos that rise up from their old bodies. “What it seems is that saurians have a common lineage so that this form of undead only arises from their dead and morphs the skeleton into a skeletal, allosauroid form with a single nasal horn,” the magic-using narrator says as the skeletons morph into horned Mudon skeletons before they get back up and start to hobble around. “Usually this is when the subject has died isolated and alone, or under harsh conditions,” Vrondi says while the Mudons wander aimlessly about on the screen. “Despite low intelligence that usually ranks between 6 to 9, in groups they are a threat. The main weapon of a Mudon is their nasal horn. When they charge, not only does the horn do damage it gets an extra four-sided die of damage because of the negative force, that animates them, permeates their bones and is focused through it,” Vrondi says as the Mudons begin to charge into each other headfirst. “Mudon are products of their environment, so that being said, if they are destroyed without the use of silver, divine magic, or holy water they will reform in four days and wander about again. Defeating one and performing a last rites ritual also may break the cycle as well,” Vrondi adds as one Mudon shatters and the others stand by, one even checking a pocket watch that he pulls out from behind him, and suddenly it reassembles itself. “Blunt force trauma is the best way to deal with said creatures besides the methods mentioned before, even though it’s just a short term solution,” Vrondi says while the Mudons continue to butt heads. “Well, not much else is there to say. Kind of bland undead if you ask me,” Vrondi voices his opinion before a crash is heard in the background. “BONESMASHER’S INT IS 9! Magic salamander think Bonesmasher is STUPID?!” a voice is heard that betrays its identity. “No! No! My friend, they are just undead, they are naturally kind of vacant,” Vrondi says in a frightened tone. “So you no think Bonesmasher is stupid?” the Red King asks in a gruff tone, while still off screen as is Vrondi while the Mudons stop and seem like they are listening in. “No! Of course not,” Vrondi responds and Bonesmasher follows up with, “Okay. I’ll just go now.” Vrondi audibly breathes a sigh of relief and says to himself, “Wow that was close.” A sigh of relief is heard as the screen fades to black.