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The Tomb of Uruth Ukrypt

Theryn pulled the lever and the hidden doorway opened with a dull grinding noise. “What do your orc eyes see?” Siegfried whispered to Theryn in Orcish. Theryn’s newfound darkvision ability gave him a good glimpse of the chamber before them. It was another octagonal construction with a central shaft through which the waters from the underground rivers fell to an uncertain fate in the darkness below. Chambers to the north, west, and east were blocked by heavy stone doors. What caught Theryn’s attention, however, were the mounds of dismembered corpses. Black blood pooled on the flagstone floor to ooze over the edge of the abyss, forming a bloodfall, and the bodies lay three or four deep in places. The stench of rotting flesh was almost overpowering. Worse yet were the nightmares that walked the room, evidence of the slaughter dripping from the misshapen axes they bore in their twisted claws. The hulking brutes looked like an unholy spawn of orc and demon, their muscular forms bent and hunched beneath heavy horns that sprouted from their temples. Bony spikes protruded from their grey skin and tufts of fur sprouted along their shoulders and back. The reek of sulphur almost overpowered the stench of the dead. In their wake, as they shook their horned heads and muttered groaning oaths, they left reddish shadows that glowed though there was by rights no light to cast them. Fiendsbane rattled in his scabbard. I smell Tanarukk, he whispered to Varien. Foul spawn and abomination both. Destroy them Varien before I destroy them for you. “Tanarukk,” Siegfried said, exhaling sharply. “The makers of these abominations have forsaken Gruumsh to embrace Baphomet. Creating these creatures is heresy.” “They don’t look like they want to talk theology,” whispered Varien. “I’ve visited enough churches to know that any scripture can be twisted to justify evil,” Siegfried said. “You’re looking at the extreme result of such twisting.” One of the creatures turned and snarled in the direction of their whispering, a guttural snarl escaping its frothing lips. “Fine,” sighed Siegfried, hefting his axe. “Let’s correct this theological error.”   Theryn darted out and cast a hunter’s mark on the nearest Tanarukk as he charged. He struck with his quarterstaff, knocking the creature off balance, but could not follow through with a stunning strike . Instead, the creature roared and slashed at Theryn with his heavy axe, slashing the mask-wearing monk. The tanarukk bellowed as he towered over Theryn. In Abyssal-accented Orcish, the creature bellowed, “You look like orc, but you no smell like orc!” “Tell me how this tastes!” Theryn roared back in Orcish as he struck the tanarukk again, this time following up with a classic stunning strike that had the tanarukk reeling. Siegfried was next out the door, rushing towards another nearby tanarukk. “Cyka blyat!” he shouted in bad Abyssal as he hexed the creature before slashing it with his sanguine axe . The creature returned the blow for one of its own, but Siegfried’s axe slashed out, hooking the tanarukk’s blade and knocking it aside contemptuously. Siegfried sneered as he reared back with a kick that knocked the hulking creature over the side of the shaft into the abyss. He then pointed his bloodied axe at the remaining tanarukk who was stalking the southern quadrant of the room. Alec aimed his crossbow and fired two shots at the stunned tanarukk, plugging the creature twice. Delirious, the brute didn’t even flinch as one of the bolts struck him between the eyes. Air-wen drifted past his remaining comrades and entered the room. Not liking the piles of corpses, he centered himself over one of them and made an elemental whirlwind attack. Bodies were thrown like ragdolls to pulp themselves against the nearest stone walls like overripe pumpkins. Suddenly the double doors to the north blasted open, and a fourth tanarukk stomped out into view. This one wore what looked like plate armor, the steeling plating fused to his flesh in horrible-looking patches. A cowl-like helm covered his Demon-orc features, leaving room for his horns to protrude. “What is this?” the tanarukk roared. “You shall die!” He sprinted towards Air-wen, slashing him with his greataxe. Siegfried readied himself as the target he had taunted bounded towards him like a snorting bull, crazed and out for blood. Bob casted a twinned haste spell on Varien and Theryn. Yeemik brandished his censer-flail and attacked the tanarukk who was busy slashing at Air-wen. He connected with the weapon, but as it rebounded off the tanarukk’s steel armour, the censer began to glow darkly. Yeemik’s eyes rolled up into his head as he fainted and collapsed at Bob’s feet. With a shout of triumph, the steel-plated tanarukk chopped down on Yeemik’s unconscious form, only to have the attack deflected by Varien’s shield. The paladin stood in a defensive stance over Yeemik, Fiendsbane raised menacingly. “Demon or orc, or neither, you shall not win this day,” He said to the tanarukk as he slashed with his magical sword, striking true. He struck the creature again and attempted to shove him back, but the tanarukk stood his ground. He slashed again with Fiendsbane and connected, unleashing a smite that blasted the creature with radiant damage. Fiendsbane made an unpleasantly pleasurable noise in Varien’s ear as he drew tanarukk blood. Quickened by Bob’s spell, Theryn charged at the stunned Tanarukk, avoiding the swipe of the steel-plated fiend’s weapon. He struck the creature again, unleashing a flurry of blows before following up with a critical strike that crumpled the creature’s bony brow, and took advantage of his new speed with yet another attack that left the creature stunned again. Theryn knocked the tanarukk back with his quarterstaff and let gravity do the rest. The unbalanced creature, unable to move, keeled over into the abyss and disappeared. Then he took a deep breath as he leaned on his quarterstaff for a moment. He turned to Siegfried and called out, “Keep up!” in Orcish. Siegfried obliged. Engaging his new foe, he locked blades and used his leverage to drive the creature back against the heavy stone doors, which bounced in their frame but stayed firmly closed as he bludgeoned the creature. “Reject Baphomet!” Siegfried shouted at the creature with each staggering blow. “Forsake Gruumsh! For I am your god now!” He knocked the creature off its feet and drove it against the doors again and again. Blood sprayed from between the tanarukk’s clenched teeth as his body was crushed against unyielding stone. Alec drew his mercurial greatsword and slashed at the tanarukk, sending a firebolt at it for good measure. The fire blasted the creature but didn’t seem particularly effective. Air-wen went on the attack, slamming the steel-plated tanarukk before engaging the second tanarukk locked in battle with Siegfried. The tanarukk wrested free of Siegfried’s axe and slashed back at the wildshaped druid, cutting Air-wen deeply before unleashing a rage-driven attack against Siegfried, who stymied it with a well-placed shield spell. “Why are you looking at him?” Siegfried snarled at the tanarukk, indicating Air-wen. “He is not your concern at the moment!” With a contemptuous Bob launched a firebolt and frowned as it damaged but did not destroy his target. Yeemik remained prone and unconscious. “Wake up, devil!” Varien shouted down at Yeemik as he unleashed a critical strike on the steel-plated tanarukk, killing it, then kicked off the wall and spun in mid-air as he split the creature facing Siegfried open like a corkscrewing blade. The creature’s innards were illuminated with a blast of radiant damage as the fiendish tanarukk came apart at the seams. Siegfried looked somewhat crestfallen as the fiend dropped to his feet, dead. Varien shrugged. “You were taking too long,” he explained. “Let’s move.” All was silent in the chamber save for the screams of the falling tanarukks as they neared the bottom of the shaft.   Varien headed north through the double doors blown open by the entry of the steel-plated tanurukk, whose steaming corpse lay nearby. He investigated the chamber and found that the ceiling had caved in, destroying whatever had been deposited inside. Judging from the residual aura of consecration his paladin’s senses detected, it had likely been the final resting place of an important priest or shaman. But the sarcophagus, if any, had been obliterated by tons of falling rock. “Shame,” Varien said, kicking at a fragment of stone. Theryn marveled at the vividly-painted murals that adorned the walls that depicted, in graphic detail, the wholesale slaughter of humans, elves, gnomes and dwarves at the hands of vast orc legions. Various castles, settlements, and other assorted fortifications were being set ablaze by gleeful orc berserkers. Shallow alcoves in the room contained four statues of screaming orc warriors grasping double axes. Theryn’s attention was drawn to the sealed doors on the western side of the chamber. He could read the runes as plain as day. “Uruth Ukrypt the Merciless, our mighty king, loyal servant and vicious hand of He Who Watches.” Theryn relayed the information to Siegfried, who was concerned with a telltale pool of blood in the chamber’s southeastern section. “Interesting parallel between Gruumsh and Helm, wouldn’t you agree?” Siegfried murmured as he regarded the blood pool and the recently-slaughtered corpses of Bloodsworn orcs who lay sprawled about it amid the destroyed remains of several zombies. He lowered his sanguine axe to the blood pool. “I wonder,” he said softly. The axe began to drink from the pool of blood, filling the vial clenched in the skull’s teeth until the metal jaws sprang open, discharging the filled glass tube. Siegfried snatched the vial out of the air and pocketed it. He looked down at the pool, which was by now greatly diminished, and prestidigitated the remaining smear away. Then he turned to Theryn. “Now then, let’s take a closer look at that door, shall we?” He called to Varien. “Oh, Varien! Don’t you want to see that thing we came down here to find? That thing that’s over here?” He strode to the doors. “Now, that’s going to be trapped,” he said, waving his axe at the door lock. Theryn nodded and tested it with a gentle push from the butt end of his quarterstaff. The door stubbornly refused to open. “Right, we need to think about this,” Siegfried said. “Perhaps we should rest a moment while Air-wen descends into the shaft and finished off those tanarukks, should they have been tough enough to survive the fall, or.” “Coming through!” Alec said, hefting the portable ram. Without slowing down his stride he reared back and drove the battering ram into the middle of the double doors, shattering the lock and blasting the doors open. “Or we could do that,” Siegfried said with a sigh. The party members stood at the threshold of a long, narrow corridor that opened into a burial chamber. A strong stench of mildew assaulted their senses. The passing of the centuries and the intrusion of the elements couldn’t completely overcome the great reverence that had gone into the room’s construction. Pale witchlight from a hidden source fell on a heavy stone sarcophagus that rested in the middle of the tomb. From their vantage point they could see that the stone lid of the sarcophagus had been carved to resemble an orc king lying in repose, a powerful, crowned orc clad in full plate armor grasping a stone double axe and shield. Ground water, having leaked in through cracks in the walls, formed murky pools around the base of the sarcophagus. Black mildew encrusted the walls and floor tiles. The party paused in the ominous silence, which was then broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, heavy with armour. With a creaking clanking sound, an eight-foot tall orc clad in shining silver plate armour stepped from the shadows to block the sarcophagus, her great bulk nearly filling the breadth and height of the passageway. The orc woman’s bald head was the colour of amber, nearly translucent with age, and she seemed to glow with an inner light. Her brows furrowed as she brandished a long greatsword that looked to have been carved from the bone of some great creature of legend. “I am Battlewarden Orralthum of the Eternal Order,” she spoke, her voice rang out, heavy with centuries’ worth of gravitas. “You shall not pass.” Varien stepped forward and addressed the undead orc. “Pass away? No, not today. Pass judgment? Yes.” He raised Fiendsbane. The Battlewarden’s hairless brow arched as she raised her sword in mock salute. Air-wen streamed past the party members in a howling elemental charge, falling upon the Battlewarden and slamming her as he enveloped her in a swirl of air current. The Battlewarden grimaced but endured the druid’s elemental attack, and then called out to hidden allies in the shadows. “Clear this rabble!” The shadows themselves moved, the only thing distinguishing them from the darkness being two pairs of glowing red eyes. Silently, they attacked Air-wen with ethereal claws, draining the druid’s life force. Siegfried grit his teeth and set forth in his most imperious tone as he cast charm monster . In Orcish, he barked, “Cease this foolishness and halt this attack, servant! Dismiss your wraiths and bring me the axe that is my birthright!”
Battlewarden Orralthum’s expression changed from rage to confusion to dull resignation. She obligingly put up her sword in a deferential salute and bowed. “My lord,” she growled. “These creatures must feed.” “And feed they shall,” Siegfried said. “For there are intruders deeper in this tomb who need to be dealt with decisively, down the well in the central of the room.” “My lord,” the Battlewarden said, the pained expression of a servant who must tell her master unpleasant news. “We are bound to defend the legacy of Uruth Ukrypt.” “And you have served well!” Siegfried said, waving his arm expansively. I have come to complete my legacy as has been foretold.” Battlewarden Orralthm smiled at that, an unpleasant twisting of her features showing how difficult expressing such an emotion was for her. “These are my companions,” Siegfried said, carefully choosing his words so as not to offend Varien. “I give your servants the flesh of the tanarukk interlopers who defile Uruth’s tomb with their abominations.” The Battlewarden nodded slowly and apologetically. “My lord, would that they could, but they must deal with interlopers here.” She indicated the doorway where the party stood. “Your companion has crossed the threshold and as such his life is forfeit. He must be dealt with.” “My fellow servants,” Siegfried said, ignoring Varien’s sneer, “They are essential to my plan. Control your subordinates or this will be your final failure.” The Battlewarden’s expression was one of sad resoluteness. “His life is forfeit,” she said, as if that explained everything. “Fine,” Siegfried said, standing aside. “Varien, you have my leave to destroy these wraiths utterly. But please stay your hand against our friend the Battlewarden for the time being.” “Your friend, you mean,” Varien said, hefting Fiendsbane. “Friends, take this opportunity to prove yourselves to this Battlewarden, as better servants to the cause. But not a scratch on the lady, if you please,” Siegfried said to the rest of the party. Theryn leapt forward and swung his quarterstaff at the nearest wraith, bellowing with orcish rage as he missed. He followed through with an unarmed strike that caught the incorporeal creature with full magical force. Then he hopped aside. Varien cast dispel evil and good and unlimbered his lightning bow . He sent a lightning-charged arrow into the first wraith, which twitched before the arrow exploded, sending lightning damage playing over the second wraith and an unfortunate Air-wen. The wraiths spun about, their rage a silent one, as they swept away from the druid and set upon Alec and Varien. The paladin managed to ward off their blows, as did the barbarian. Siegfried utterly ignored the unfolding melee, stepping past the scene of desparate close-quarters battle to confront Battlewarden Orralthum in the chamber. “Report!” he barked. “I wish to know this tomb’s defences, its strengths, the integrity of its gates.” The Battlewarden bowed. “Well, my lord, the tomb was still intact until just a few moments ago,” she said, indicating Siegfried’s companions. Siegfried took the opportunity to scan the room. Three alcoves to the north, west and south beyond the central sarcophagus looked to have at one time contained standing sarcophagi of their own, but something must have caused them to topple and spill their contents. Rubble mixed with bones lay amid the shattered ruins. The tomb’s ceiling rose 15 feet, and Siegfried’s sharp eyes found the source of the pale witchlight that provided illumination. It was a circular set of stained glass, laid into the stone wall of the tomb. The crystal panes depicted the proud form of a phoenix flying towards a stylized sun. Impressive , thought Siegfried. Varien will be interested in this . To the Battlewarden he said “I will need to inspect the tomb, the glass, the wards of imprisonment, everything really. And I shall require a diagnostic of any enchantments that are in effect, as well as any release mechanisms.” “We do not wish to undo our master’s mark,” Orralthum replied. “Of course, Siegfried said placatingly. “We just need a closer look to determine that everything is as it should be.” Battlewarden Orralthum stood proudly. “We are here to defend against those who would despoil.” “Of course!” Siegfried repeated, realizing that this undead orc was probably not used to carrying on such a complicated conversation. “You should know, however that I have converted a heathen paladin to our perfect Light, and his role is to make sure that all is right in the Eye of Gruumsh.” “It shall be as you say, my lord,” Orralthum intoned. Siegfried used his telepathic bond. “Okay Varien, she thinks you’ve turned away from Sune and that you are something of an engineer here to test the integrity of Uruth’s final resting place, to make sure that nobody breaks in.” “And you needed to imply that I was an apostate why?” Varien replied. “You are formerly of Sune, loyal to Gruumsh, come here to do your duty to make sure the crystal panes of the Phoenix aren’t damaged.” “Crystal what?” Varien said in excitement. In Celestial, he said, “Formerly of Sune? This guy needs to stop blaspheming. This isn’t appropriate.” “Now then,” Siegfried turned back to the Battlewarden. “The Lord of this Crypt. I assume his weapons are entombed with him?” Battlewarden Orralthum’s eyes narrowed. “My lord, what was placed within the sarcophagus remains there to this day.” “You don’t actually know where the Ettin Axe of Uruth is, do you?” Siegfried asked. “I protect Uruth Ukrypt’s legacy, and live eternal to defend it against those who would despoil,” Orralthum said, glad to be back onto a familiar subject. “Well then, you won’t mind removing the King’s sarcophagus from this tomb to allow me and my servants an opportunity to check the chamber over for deficiencies in its defences?” Siegfried asked. The Battlewarden was aghast. “My lord, I cannot! The sarcophagus lid clearly says All who disturb the slumber of the king shall be flayed. ” “Flayed?” Siegfried repeated. “Yes,” Battlewarden Orralthum nodded vigourously. “By you, or by some enchantment?” Siegfried pressed. Battlewarden Orralthum thought for a moment, then smiled. “All who disturb the slumber of the king shall be flayed,” she repeated decisively. “Well then, you know your duty,” Siegfried said, indicating the sarcophagus. “Protect the legacy by moving it out of the way.” “I shall obey, my lord,” Orralthum said with a note of uncertainty in her voice. She sheathed her bone sword and moved to the sarcophagus, preparing to deadlift it. She hesitated only momentarily before sighing and grabbing ahold of the heavy stone coffin. Instantly, blades scythed out from hidden receptacles in the sarcophagus, brutalizing the undead orc as well as sweeping out ten feet in all directions around the coffin. Gritting her teeth against the attack, the Battlewarden attempted to lift the heavy stone sarcophagus, but faltered, letting it settle back to the stone plinth. Siegfried heard the faint sound of sloshing within the sarcophagus. Poisonous liquid oozed ineffectually from the trap’s great wounds in the creature’s chest and arms. She ignored the damage and gazed shamefacedly at Siegfried, who stood with his arms crossed. Theryn cast hunter’s mark on one of the dire wraiths, striking it repeatedly. Varien pursed his lips. “Wait, Siegfried, what is she expecting me to do?” he asked. “Some sort of Sunnite thing, no doubt,” Siegfried replied. “Okay then,” Varien said. With two severe slashes he killed the dire wraith that hovered before him, and buried his blade in the second dire wraith. Erwen slammed the remaining wraith, who attempted to drain the druid’s life, but failed. Alec unleashed his mercurial greatsword and struck the wraith twice. “Ding dong, you are on the side of wrong!” shouted Bob as he cast toll the dead . The Dire Wraith shrugged off the attack. Bob frowned. “Let’s hurry this along, shall we?” Siegfried said, sending three eldritch blasts into the lone dire wraith, blowing it apart. “Now then,” the half-orc continued. “Battlewarden, you shall serve as my companion Varien’s footstool as he inspects the stained glass window at the top of this chamber.” Reluctantly, the Battlewarden stomped over to stand beneath the window, lacing her cold fingers together for Varien’s benefit. Varien strode over towards the northern section of the tomb, Fiendsbane in his hand. “Siegfried, you know I cannot abide this,” he said. “I am here to defend the legacy of Uruth Ukrypt,” barked the Battlewarden as Varien approached. “You will show the proper respect due to the dead-” “Begone!” Varien said as he swung Fiendsbane at the Battlewarden, unleashing the dispel evil and good spell in a banishing strike. Orralthum stiffened as the blade struck home. She turned to Siegfried and croaked “my lord?” before she faded from sight, banished to the Shadowfell by Varien’s powerful magic. Silence fell over the tomb. “And that, gentlemen,” Siegfried said calmly, “is how you finesse.”   Air-wen gave Varien a paw up to the level of the stained glass window. Varien fought to control his emotions as he gazed upon the proud profile of the Phoenix that shone with holy light before him. “After all this time,” he said softly as he searched for the best method to remove the crystal panes from the stone wall. Siegfried and Theryn were investigating the stone sarcophagus from a safe distance. “So the trap was engaged at lid-level here,” Siegfried was saying. Theryn looked the stone coffin over. “There’s some sort of plug at the foot of the coffin here,” he said. “Don’t be hasty now,” Siegfried warned Theryn. “Hey,” Theryn replied. “If I wanted a boring life I’d have stayed home and gotten drunk!” He yanked out the plug. Immediately a black brackish brine began to gush from the hole, joining the standing water that pooled around the sarcophagus. “You fool of a Hellvalor,” Siegfried shook his head. Pulling out his shard of the ise rune he jammed the magic weapon into the hole, freezing the brine solid. There was a crackling sound from deep within the sarcophagus and wisps of cold fog hissed out from around the stone lid of the coffin, which frosted over in seconds. “Hmmm,” Siegfried said. “Perhaps that fouled the mechanism somewhat.” Varien looked at the acid-etched words from his god on his gauntlet. “In Beauty’s Temple a rot arisen,” he read aloud. “I believe I have to take these crystal panes to the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep and return them to their rightful place in the stained-glass walls.” “Sounds about right,” Siegfried said. “I think I took an art class there once. Lovely place.” “I’ve got this,” said Theryn, as he rushed up the wall, grabbed the circular stained-glass window frame, and rushed nimbly back down, carefully feeding the crystal pane to Bob’s bag of holding . “That’s how you do it,” Varien said with a smile. Theryn then investigated the rest of the room. He discovered that the three ruined sarcophagi contained the remains of Uruth Ukrypt’s three wives: Skabra, Kreleb, and Zarun. One of the wives had been entombed with her pet python, judging from the snake-like bones intertwined with the orcish remains. Here and there glittered jewelry and other adornments, which Theryn wasted no time in pocketing. Siegfried used his thieves’ tools to disable the trap’s mechanism and his sister’s prybar to lever the lid from the rest of the sarcophagus. There was a stone scraping sound and the lid fell away, revealing a black icy rectangle of frozen brine within the void of the sarcophagus’s interior. The brine had drained about a sixth of the way towards emptiness before being frozen. “Huh,” Siegfried said. “I guess it was just normal brine, then?” He began to chip away at the frozen liquid with his axe, then stopped. “So wait, they pickled Uruth Ukrypt before laying him to rest?” He could barely contain a laugh. “I’ve never encountered this type of burial ritual before, believe me.” He chipped more of it away and then gave up. “Somebody with some fire magic melt this down for me.” Bob obliged. Soon the brine was gushing out of the open plug yet again. Siegfried eyed the interior of the sarcophagus expectantly. His expression changed as the last of the brine drained out. The inside of the sarcophagus was empty. Siegfried stood over the sarcophagus for what seemed like an eternity. Then, he deftly rearranged his scarf and pursed his lips, exhaling slowly. Turning to the rest of the party he said in a strangled voice. “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to seek your leave to rage for a moment or two.”