The Formica

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The red formica is the worker and foot soldier of their species. With powerful jaws and overdeveloped claws for grasping and crushing they do the queens bidding using a mixture of pheromones and high pitch sounds.

When the formica queen is around her workers they will do what ever they can to protect her and follow unheard and unseen commands that she issues with special scents and noises. However she is not weak and frail and is in fact the strongest of her kind. Able to sting and bite the creatures her claws grasp onto she quickly despatches with those who dare to confront her.

Where that doesn’t work her workers will quickly put their bodies in front of the queen as a shield to protect her from those who dare attack her. When she takes damage though her blood and from a special gland near her she can spray a pheromone that drives the formica around her wild with a blood frenzy. Those that are dosed with the pungent ichor are quickly dispatched.

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The Sea Witch

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The party watched with horror as they thought, not for the first time in a few minutes, that they shouldn’t have provoked the sea witch. As she moved the thick fog swam over her form blanketing her from view and the sound of waves from the sea grew in intensity.

Her nails grew longer from her fingers as she strode towards them, moving from something human to something more feral. Long talon like claws extended from her finger tips to dagger length.

While not overly fearsome itself it can use control water, while next to the sea, to drag the water up onto the shore. This will make the terrain difficult if not force every player to swim instead of being able to walk. This will make the Sea Witch much more difficult than its CR would make it seem (although the CR takes some of this into consideration.)

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Carnivorous Creeper

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The streets look different in Morrowell at night as thick twitching vines quest for its next meal. A sweet heady aroma can be smelt wafting through the air that makes the parties skin tickle and itch as it touches any exposed skin, or is breathed in. Something is not right.

The plant, Colters plant was the source of it and even from here the towering flower was open spreading a golden pollen upon everything it touched. But that wasn’t the problem as there were a few other smaller blooms sprouting from the straw roofs of nearby houses that had smaller questing vines searching for a meal.

There was some serious pruning that was needed tonight, and the party had a big job ahead of them.

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Worshipers of the Relics

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The moment the party saw the stairs down they knew that it was not a way out of the city. as they looked back at the unconscious man, the one who had tried to push them down the stairs, they knew that what was down there was the answer to where the dwarves had gone missing.

Pushing forward into the dark room those who descended the creaking stairs found a room filled in by stone walls. A place for storing goods rather than a way out of the town. A sound from one side of the room hinted at something more, deeper and beyond the stone and that’s when the trap was sprung.

Forced, coerced or even willing descending the stairs left a brief opportunity for the door to be closed behind them, a soft click the only sign that it had been locked. The sound was more feverish from the otherside of the wall and it wasn’t long until they found a loose stone that enabled the wall to be slid aside. Bewildered and terrified eyes greeted them of four dwarves as they rushed into the cellar behind them.

There were more, according to the dwarves, those that had gone missing from the other delves. All of them in the caves, all mad, barely fed and talking feverishly about the relics, their gleam and how they were going to save the town if they gave into the power of the one relic.

A bad sign if the party had ever saw one but any attempt to get through the door had failed so far. So they were stuck, for now. Sooner or later their ambushers would check on them and that would give them an opportunity to get out, to push through back into freedom.

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Ned Tafelo

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The party watched the recognition of what had happened appear on the face of Lady Straken as her daughter sobbed into the arms of her husband, who looked deridingly different to normal. ‘Don,’ he voice reached out questioning as his eyes rose to meet hers, the faintest glimmer of recognition in his eyes. ‘Is that really you my husband?’ she asked as her tears came unbidden to her eyes.

‘It’s him mother, come over here, you must not be able to see clearly from across the room. It truly is father.’ Kendral urged. As Lady Straken stood from her seat the family advisor, Ned Tafelo, stood and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

‘My lady, that can not be our Don. He looks to wild. This is surely a poor attempt to claim the reward that I put out for any information that would lead to his return.’ Ned slid a glance at the men who lined the walls of the hall, those who had failed him.

‘He lies mother. These people, these adventurers told me that they had questioned Ned’s men and that they were caught destroying the missing person posters I had been putting out. They told me you had ordered my return to the house where it was not the case and they kept me confined to my room until they freed me with father with them. He claims to have no memory of us, just of the nightmares that he gets when he tries to remember. A curse they believe it to be, one that came from our advisor, Ned.’ she declared pointing towards the man.

Ned practically snarled. ‘Guards, throw these would be assassins out. Protect Lady Straken as Kendral has shown her true colours as a snake that wishes harm on the family and its business. I will not have what I…’ he paused realising his mistake before trying to quickly cover it up. ‘What this family has created for some knave that these swindlers wish to use against the family. Seize them dead or alive!’

As the men rushed forward with swords drawn the look of horror in Lady Straken’s eyes was all encompassing until, Ned uttered some words and a arcane symbol appeared before her eyes. She stared blankly ahead before bursting into tears. ‘My own daughter. She has admitted to murdering her father and plotting to kill me next.!’ she cried out.

As the spell took affect over Lady Straken though something changed in Joe. ‘Susanna!’ he cried out as he ripped off his shirt, roaring in terror and determination. ‘I am well, Ned has put a curse on me, a phantasm that has hunted and haunted me. This cursed tunic, this tunic of torment has had me in its grips for too long but I cast it aside! Guards to me!’ he bellowed as doors opened and house guards entered looking confused, and relieved, as they charged to meet Neds men in the hall.

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The Olethros Wolf

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As the creature stalked into the magic lit cave its elongated legs drew the attention of the party first. Easily longer than a man is tall this creature was a huge, mostly balding and chaotically monstrous wolf. It twitched its head towards the man, Elder Arthus, before prowling back to shield the man with its bulk and presence.

The man watched the party as he spat out a series of foul syllables causing both it and the wolf’s form to blur. ‘The interesting thing about the Olethros wolf. When its bound to a master it forms a magical channel where I share its power and it shares mine. A wondrous creature really. A shame that you have been chosen by it to be its next meal.’ the man promised the party with near genuine regret.

As the mage and wolf worked as a complete team and their experience of working, hunting together for years was evident in how they moved, attacked and defended each other.

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Ramiera’s Machinations

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As the snakes slithered out of the baskets and crates their sheer size had the party hesitating. Twice long as a person was tall, if not bigger, these reptiles moved forward with the angular head that identified them as some type of viper. Excessively venomous, aggressive and agitated they advanced in large sweeping arcs towards the party, their tongues flicking menacingly.

The first of the strikes are far reaching and swift, bitting down upon the characters boots as they tried to take down the larger creatures in front of them. The party imagined the splattering venom hissing as it hit the tiled floor – but it was droned in the hisses, snaps and snarls as the snakes lashed out again.

The hallway was silent as the party crept out of the storage room, their wounds still burning from the venom of the snakes. A sound could be heard from a nearby room before a woman stepped out from the shadows of the wall near by its door.

‘You survived the snakes. The Princess will be disappointed. She told me not to trust the outsiders who had shown their face after the prince did as she asked. But sadly for you, no one can hear you scream or cry out from here as,’ she paused and listened as a cheering and clapping roared down the hall. ‘It looks like Ramiera has started the dance in full now. No help is coming so I hope you make peace with your pathetic gods.’

The party was quickly aware of the doors to the other rooms opening. The dark clothes didn’t conceal that these were the same people they saw talking with Ramiera earlier as they adjusted their formal clothes to protect them from the anticipated spilled blood.

‘No one will stop Ramiera’s plans. We will see to it that her vision is a reality!’ one roared as he charged the party and for the second time this evening, the party was fighting for their life.

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Omelga Hunters

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As the party watched the Omelga hunters move in they noticed that several of them hung back and positioned themselves behind cover. Armed with bows and a short spear these hunters watched with eagle eyes for where the party would appear, ready to strike from a distance and judging by their gear and behaviour they would rarely miss.

The others were more brash. Armed with a larger spear, thicker armour and a sword on their belt these hunters were set more for brawling. Getting stuck into melee with orcs, bears and worse you could tell that they wouldn’t go down easily in a fight. These hunters more suited for brawling struck out and moved ahead of the others, searching for any sign of their quarry but, frequently very nearly blundering into the traps set.

The moment came when the party was able to trigger one of the larger traps that sent a cascade of logs hurtling towards the hunters. Several were crushed and in the confusion others blundered into the other traps and found themselves suspended, impaled or otherwise injured.

Now the true fight could begin.

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Sewer Skulkers

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As the party watched the first of the dozens of men and women rip off their dark clothes to reveal the city watches emblems they knew that they were not the first on the scene. As the city watch rushed towards the cultists chanting near the cursed blade the party also took this moment to engage. The shadows seemed to move as more cultists appeared and rushed forward, dark gleaming blades seemingly dripped with the malicious magic from the ritual.

A select few, maybe half a dozen, remained kneeling and chanted as the others rushed to protect those who chanted closest to the altar and the reverberating blade shards that they were intent on mending. As the fight ensued the unholy energy from the blades cut deeper than anticipated. A evil seeped from the blades and made the wounds they left even more painful.

The party did their best to aid the city watch but it wasn’t long until a few of their numbers fell to magic or blade, the party needed to increase their effort. The footing was not only unpleasant but treacherous. The stones of the canal gave way to any substantial weight and what they did manage to find stable near the sewage filled drains was slippery.

Repressing their bile they fought against the cultists, a few of their members lay unconscious or dead and they fought harder knowing that their plans were in jeopardy.

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Feli and the Felons

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As the rough inmates rush across the worn stone of the courtyard they pick up any weapon they can. Some have raided the guard house, or had weapons thrown to them and are sporting heavy crossbows and maces – the weapon the guards at Mouler’s Peak. Feli makes another appearance handing a dagger to an escaped prisoner before darting behind more rushing madmen it which point the party lose sight of her.

It’s obvious now that Feli, their employer wanted to create the prison break and to frame the party but the reason was still not known. As the guard and the party stood firm against the felons as they rushed, stabbed, shot, slashed and swung at the defenders a hushed wave of quiet washed over them.

Feli walked next to a towering man who must have had giant or at least orcish blood in his veins. He stood at least eight feet tall and was busy pulling on the armour of a guard that still had the blood of its previous owner on it. This man must have been Feli’s target as he was given scimitars from a bag that Feli had on her hip and a bandoleer of daggers.

‘Drendle Bloodknuckle’ several escapees muttered and made room for the hulk of a man as he strode forward rolling his shoulders as if preparing for the fight ahead. The one thing that the wannabe warlord of Kestel needed was a weapon and that weapon was this man it seems. Played hook, line and sinker.

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