D&D Post Game 11-23-18

A ½ elf warlock, an elf ranger, a dwarf fighter and two human clerics walk into the town of Drakka.

They were part of a small group of travelers going by boat through the Twilight Fens to this town on the edge of nowhere.

They all had slightly different agendas, but would soon realize they were all working to the same goal.

The group of strangers were met (along with all the other ship passengers) on the dock by the local constable. He welcomed them to the town and then gave his little spiel about keeping out of trouble in his quite town. Then the strangers all split to explore their new surroundings.

• The human clerics began to investigate the town for signs of corruption. They were both warned that something was rotten in this town.
• The ½ elf warlock had been informed by his patron that there was shenanigans of the planar variety occurring in Drakka and to root them out.
• The dwarf had been to scout for the Northern Army and was looking to see if Drakka would make a location for a garrison, if the populace would be tolerant of a dwarf force occupying the landside and to see what defenses this town had.
• The ranger came to explore and see more of the natural world outside of his forest homeland and to learn more of the world of men.

The clerics, ranger and dwarf investigated a few abandoned homes and were set upon twice by frenzied lizards and ambushed by robed figures in the midst of some arcane ritual. They put these three men down and notified the constable, who was clueless to this sort of arcane activity in his town. He did seem angered by this and went about making sure this was a singular event.

Like this...but with a hood

The warlock went to investigate the local graveyard and temples, only to discover they were closed (and guarded) to the public due to the swamps reclaiming that area outside of town.

A little smooth talking from the ½ elf and he was able to get past the graveyard gate guards and found that the area was flooded like the was told. He also searched the first temple (to Waukeen) and found the place empty, filthy and defiled. He had no time to investigate the second temple as the guards were returning to the cemetery gates.

Now the adventures knew there was something foul going on in this little town they just needed to figure out the who, why and where of it all.

After interviewing a few more citizens, business owners and the mayor the party was stuck again as to what was truly going on in this town. Eventually the warlock accessed his powers and was able to charm a local shop keep he thought was part of whatever was happening in town. A simple charm spell and the shop keep opened up to questions from the warlock. He soon knew the who and where of the events going on in the town. A small cult had formed over that last decade. It was led by one Bertram Beswell, the charismatic owner of the Golden Frog Inn. They were worshipping an ancient eldritch power, but for what gain was still unknown. The warlock took this information and went to meet with the clerics, dwarf and ranger who he had also seen investigating the town.

The five of them went to the Golden Frog and procured rooms for the evening and waited for nightfall. The warlock had spoken to Bertram and exclaimed he and the rest were fellow believers here to worship. Bertam welcomed them and said to meet in the cellar of the inn after close for the evenings “festivities.”

They made their way to the cellar once everyone at the inn had left or turned in for the night. The warlock was told the cellar is where they were to meet with the rest of the cult. Sadly, it was where they met the local town drunk, who was anything but that!

The cleric of the storm god met with a quartet of thrown daggers in the chest. The warlock and ranger were engulfed in this chocking and burning gas. The then dwarf’s armor was pierced by precision knife strikes. All this in just a matter of seconds. This “town drunk” moved and attacked like lightning! He raced from person to person dodging blows and shaking off the ones that managed to strike him. The cleric of the war gods had enough! He rushed the assailant and grabbed him all the while chanting to his deity. The cleric’s hands coursed with dark energy that transferred to the body of the nimble assailant, who suddenly began bleeding profusely from his ears, nose, mouth and eyes. The assassin staggered back a few steps and was set upon by the dwarf and his axe. The warlock and ranger also stood back and unleashed magic and arrows at the mortally wounded man. The assassin dodged a few blows, but then the cleric of storms unleashed a bolt of light that blew a large hole in his chest. The town drunk staggered back while staring at the fist sized hole in his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the floor. The cult was obviously aware of the party’s investigation and had sent this gentleman to stop them, well to try and stop them.

As they tended to their wounds, one of the clerics found a secret door that led to another small room and another door. They opened this new door and found a tunnel leading down under the town. As they made their way down the tunnel they were attacked by a trio of wicked dagger wielding townsfolk in purple cloaks. The party made short work of them and continued through the twisting tunnels. Soon they found a small room with another three town cult members working with small bowls, vials and all manner of strange components. They assaulted them and stopped whatever ritual preparations they were busying themselves. They five adventures continued on through the tunnels. Soon, they reached an  tunnel intersection and heard what sounded like rhythmic chanting and met three more town cult members. They were quickly shuffled off this mortal coil. The party then ran off in the direction of the chanting!

What they discovered was a room with a ceramic central altar. Around this altar were eighteen ceramic cups. At the altar leading the chanting was one Bertram Beswell, the owner of the Golden Frog Inn. Around the room were three more townsfolk in the same purple cloaks. They were all holding cups filled with clear water. They drank the water and chanted. Then the empty cups filled with blood. They drank the blood and chanted. The tunnel floor shuddered. Then each cup magically filled with gold coins.  The party, having no idea what all this was about, launched into battle!

Bertram took the brunt of the assault as the dwarf and clerics rushed him. The warlock cast a strange debilitation hex upon him to make it harder for him to fight effectively. The three cultists in the room rushed  the party wielding the same strange daggers. Within seconds Bertram was mortally wounded, but not before he could cast a wicked psyhic spell to wound the cleric of the storm. Sadly, that was all for Bertram as the an arrow from the ranger buried itself in his forehead. Seeing their leader killed, the three cultists flew into a frenzy and attacked with a new level of strength.

As the skirmish raged, two more cultists rushed into the room followed by the town blacksmith. A bear of a man with a temper to match and a gentlemen that the warlock had met earlier. The smith had dropped his dagger and was rushing the room swinging a pair of smiting hammers. The party quickly rallied to face the new threats and took them down but not without taking a bit more damage in return.

The blacksmith put up quite a fight in his rage, but he was match for the combined power of the five party members. He soon fell dead like the pervious thirteen cultists.The rest of the party tended to their wounds before deciding to explore the remaining area. If the number of cups, 18, was important then there were still five cultists to find.

As they searched the remaining halls and rooms they found two purple cloaks, daggers and the necklaces (that all the cultist wore) left on a hallway floor. It seems two of the remaining five cultists had chosen to leave the cult seeing what had been happening in the tunnels beneath town. Then the party found two townsfolk chained to a wall in a room that resembled a twisted morgue. Three tables were covered with flayed bodies that were missing various organs. There were shelves full of strange instruments and jars filled with gods know what. They did notice that the bodies on the tables were also travelers from the boat trip to Drakka. The man and woman chained to the wall were locals. They a weaving and leatherworking business from their home. They were questioned  and released as they were deemed not cult members.


The party (mostly due to the warlock’s investigation) was able to identify ten of the thirteen dead cultists. The two members not among the dead were a husband a wife who ran the local store. The party rushed there only to find its shelves ransacked and lacking in the shopkeeper department. It seems these two escaped town and justice……for now. As for the remaining three cult members, they were still unknown. Then the group rushed for the surface to alert the constable to the goings on in town. Needless to say he was flabbergasted at the news. He had no idea that this cult was in town and that so many fellow townsfolk were involved. He and his two deputies went to rouse the city militia. Their plan was to explore the tunnels under the city and then either seal or collapse them once their investigation was complete.


Not knowing who these remaining three cult members ate at the party. It felt like a job not quite finished. Still…if the surviving cult members were hiding in town they no knew the ramifications of their actions. If they were smart they would be on the run like the shopkeepers. It took less than 36 hours and the five new comers to Drakka had already proved themselves heroes and made potential enemies.