Welcome to the latest chapter of our Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) campaign, set in the legendary world of the Forgotten Realms.
This blog is a living novel, a raw, unfiltered chronicle of our adventures, told through the eyes of those who lived them. Each story is based on a true D&D session as played, with no add-ons or changes made by the authors. Our session reports offer unique, in-character perspectives on the perils, triumphs, and unforgettable moments that define our journey.
Our story follows an unlikely trio of heroes:
Finn, the streetwise Halfling Rogue with a knack for finding trouble (and exits).
Jonathan, a devoted Halfling Priest standing as the moral compass of the group.
Inez, a striving Gnome Wizard whose arcane mastery is often or not the saving grace.
Today’s chronicle is told from the perspective of Inez. Step into her mind as we recount the magic, mystery, and unexpected turns of our latest quest.
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| Episode 18 Fight with the carrion crawler. Image generated by AI. |
Session #18 as told by Inez
Dear diary,
Despite a short rest I felt still worn-out and irked when we set out investigating the ‘spiders room’. Besides the cocoons of which I had two, in my own subtle way, managed to lower to the floor, there were several more lying at the edges of this cavern. On closer examination, there were two kinds, one type similar to the ones dangling from the ceiling and the other, mummy-like-packages. All of them were covered with dust, faded and discolored, and when poked or kicked they crumbled or fell apart. Finn, above all, and Jonathan and I started to look for treasures and artefacts worn on the outside or to be found on the inside of these mummies. Much easier said than done, the mummies were dusty and dirty, the bandages tough to get through, the insides filled with dust, bones, or worse. No loot to be found.
A frustrated rogue kicked against one of the bigger ones, then cried out: “Ai, what’s this? This one almost broke my toes!” Had to hold my tongue to keep me from saying “I’m on his side” to Finn. Instead I asked him: “Which one? That huge thing?” The mummy he was hopping next to was easily more than two meters in length. To our consternation, rumblings came out of the package, a loud gasp and grunts could be heard. “Jonathan, come over here! Here’s a mummy in need of reanimation on behalf of Chislev!”; I challenged my priestly companion.
After sitting himself down, Jonathan started dissecting the drapes and plasters securely, laying bare a stone face. A stone face that spoke! “Please cut me loose!” A loud and low baritone voice pleaded, stunning the three of us. Finn and I started a whispered discussion if we should, but Jonathan ignored us: “Freeing a creature is also a work worthy in the eyes of Chislev!”
Cutting through the bandages with the same ease as he had freed me from the blood weeds, the priest exposed the body of what looked like a living statue. The skin of the creature was slightly darker than marble, and just as stone-like as that of the Golem we had met many nights ago.
The moment Jonathan was halfway through its covering, the creature tore itself free with its enormous and muscular arms, standing up using an enormous maul that had been packed with him. Towering over us, it rolled its arms and neck like the dwarf fighters do at the start of a wrestling match. (Which I had been a spectator of on a few occasions, chaperoned by my teacher High Keeper Ironmantle, though my parents never knew.) Producing a rattle that resonated against the walls, followed by a hum and a cheerful smile. “Don’t make this one angry!”;Finn hissed to us; “And that applies above all to you, pointy nose!”
This warning and insult went past me as I was focused at the goliath, because that was what the creature was. Not a common visitor of Nook, not at all, but I had seen a few before, deployed as guards of the caravans visiting our small town. But this one was even an even rarer specimen, a golem or stone giant related one, resembling the statue of Silverbeard in the Dwarven quarters of Nook. Like the statue, he had his upper torso exposed, and like the statue, the torso was a sight to behold. No further comments, dear diary.
It was Jonathan, still a few steps closer to the goliath than Finn and I, who broke the awkward silence: “Who are you, big fellow? Can you speak?” “My name is Murk, Murk Stonehide. I thank you for setting me free.” Murk’s polite thank you was not as loud as I had expected. Evidently he had spoken to small folks before, tempering his volume. “How did you end up here, Murk, all caught up in plasters?” “Well, I was caught off guard by a large group of Kobolds. They captured me and brought me underground, then it all went dark. Woke up, tied up, bandaged and blind folded, lying here for several days, until you, small ones, showed up.”
“You're safe now, we’re here.”; Finn joined the conversation. “Thank you, dear fellow, that’s very reassuring.” His stone face didn’t blink or show a smile. Finn continued by spelling out a series of terms and conditions on which one was bound when joining our group of versed and accomplished adventurers. Prerequisites even my father would have frowned upon as too exaggerated. “I thought you did not want him to become angry?” The rogue had his answer ready for my question: “What do you mean? The pot’s becoming so small, a gnome could carry it! In this case even a gnome lady!" Adding in a hushed tone: “And he does not look too bright.” Flabbergasted, all I did was roll my eyes at him.
Head shaking I stepped forward towards the goliath. With the lessons of the High Keeper in mind, I introduced our company to Murk, producing the proper curtsies suitable for a tall folks court. Hopefully giving a better impression than my rogue companion, but it was hard to tell with this stone face character!
All the same Jonathan outperformed us both by sharing the left overs of our meal. Murk ate like a giant at a halfling’s tea party! Unwittingly Jonathan’s spell had brought about an amazing amount of food, so even after Murk had finished, there still was some left to take with us. And above all, we took Murk with us as well, which felt very reassuring. Even so, he came with some new risks, us small folks had to be aware not to be stepped on! Not to mention poor Gregot, who was even small to us. Jonathan placed the treant on his shoulder, to protect it from the big stone feet.
That way we passed through several natural grottos, high enough so that even Murk could walk straight up and with wide enough paths to let us walk together instead of in a thin line. Despite this comfort, we all had the feeling of being watched, of danger around every corner. Even the tall figure of Murk leading the way, followed by Finn chewing on his medaillon, could not take away my cold sweat. As we bypassed a column of stalagmites, a lone goblin stepped in front of us, pointing his mage staff at us: “Leave Gorko alone! Thou shall not pass! Turn back and be on your way!” Tapping his shoulder I was just in time to stop Finn from attacking the old looking goblin, as I sensed that his magical powers were nil. “Gorko, you don’t have to worry no more. The spider is gone!”; Jonathan took his role as pacifier very seriously, even extending it beyond the bickering of Finn and me. “It’s gone?”; lowering the staff, the goblin almost started to weep. “Yes, we’ve killed it.” “You killed the big black spider?”
Despite our previous meeting with goblins had not been very friendly, this one appeared rather harmless. “So how did you end up here, Gorko?”; I inquired, knowing a goblin is rarely alone. “Well, I came here with Kherham, our clan leader. We were looking for an artefact. Then the spider came and we had to run. I went left, he went right and that’s the last time I saw him. Spider caught him, I think.” “And what kind of artefact were you looking for?” “Kherham knew, Gorko just followed.” Hearing some stupid giggling behind me, I ended my questioning of Gorko to find Finn and Jonathan sneering: “Do you like him, Inez. Perhaps you can show him your gobbo outfit?” Fighting a blush and the inclination to send a fire bolt towards them, my response was limited to a meager ‘Shut up!’. Pesky halflings.
Before I had time to think of a proper way to punish the two halfling men, Gorko’s ramblings caught our attention again: “And there’s another big monster, the size of three Gorko’s, a centipede.” “What?” “Yes, it’s all bones and scales, and fast. Can’t climb very high, that’s how I got away.” “Where does this animal hunt?” “It’s very fast, it could be gone for days, then it’s here before you know it. But Gorko hears it when it’s near. Then I hide, high up.” “We must be careful then. All be quiet, let’s form a line again, Murk and I take the front. "I have an idea.” Finn wanted to hunt the thing, instead of waiting for it. Which was probably not a bad plan.
We tried to be quiet, as in: not speaking, but the steps of a stone-made goliath were loud, very loud. Bonus was that we only had to walk for a short while, before Gorko started to panic. Not daring to speak (Finn’s instructions had been made very clear to him), the goblin was gesturing like a gnomish invention on its test run. “Speak, slowly and muffled.”; Finn encouraged him. “Do you hear that patter? It’s here, very near, coming for you.” “Good, all prepare, I’m gonna lure it here!” With that the rogue got a small sausage from somewhere, showed it to the cubs, and flung it off into the dark alley in front of us. Followed by the three Owl Bear cubs and my shrill snivel.
As fast as the cubs sprinted off, disappearing in the dark, they returned, more hovering than running, gliding by, seemingly unharmed. Followed by something huge and fast, an oversized centipede but with the head of a squid and the eyes of a snail. Not as big as Murk, but larger than me, much too large for comfort! And did I mention ‘fast’? Someway I managed to find my spellbook and set off a fire bolt towards it in the nick of time! Surprising myself that I could do that at such short notice. But then the creature was upon us, sneaking past Murk and Finn to attack yours truly. Missing me by inches! Then trying to take a bite out of Murk, only to see one of its fangs break off on the stone skin, leaving the creature stunned for a little while.
The short pause gave Jonathan the time to invoke his magic powers, but all he did manage was a sizzling bright light, flying harmlessly by the centipede. After putting some distance between him and the creature, Finn picked it off, hitting and hurting it with his magical knife. The caterpillar raised itself completely, looking down upon the little creatures that dared to attack it. A costly mistake, the creature paid with its life, Murk’s maul smashing into the head, leaving nothing but a splash of gore! On top of that, the vibrations of the blow made a set of stalactites fall down! Missing us as we could step away, piercing the body of the centipede, pinning it in place.
“You killed this one too, I saw it with my own eyes.”;Gorko was perplexed, repeating over and over again that we had slain his two nightmares. As if he had been the one defeating the creature on his own, Finn was showing off, strutting like a clockwork peacock with a loose gear, parading with his knife beside the corpse, attempting to cut off one of the tentacles of the centipede. Or to state it correctly, the dead carrion crawler, both Finn and Jonathan turned out to be familiar with the species. Finn, not that familiar I suppose, touching one of the wrong tentacles, suffering an electric shock in the process. Leaving one arm numb and himself drooling and mumbling. The cubs meanwhile were noshing on the cadaver, not hindered by poison or electricity. And poor Finn not able to chase them away, his arm dangling useless, his mouth only producing more drool and spit.
Murk’s blast had not only killed the creature, but also the cavern was disturbed! The ground shook heavily for a second, then stalactites started to rain down upon us! One way or the other, I managed to evade them, and so did the cubs. Scouting out I saw that Gregot and Gorko were fine as well, but not all of us were that lucky. Being hit by a stone did not impress Murk much, yet both Finn and Jonathan were wounded, Jonathan quite badly. After making sure no more rocks were falling, I ran over to them. To find out that Finn was okay-ish, yet Jonathan was seriously hit. “Where’s Gregot, he needs his aide!”; I urged, swallowing my panic. Unfortunately, Gregot was out of arcane energy, not able to heal the priest's wounds.
Seeing his halfling friend hurt, Finn frantically started searching through Jonathan’s pockets. “What are you doing?”;I challenged the rogue. “It’s not what you think. Looking for the bottles of Chana and Vana.” “Good thinking! And I apologize, even though I had not jumped to that conclusion yet.” A cheeky grin slid across his face, caused by either my response or by him finding the red bottle. “Here, drink this!”; Finn said to Jonathan, placing the mouth of the bottle near his lips. The priest took a few cautious sips, then took over the vial and drank the rest of it. “Adventure!”; he toasted, raising the bottle to us.
Waiting for the priest to regain some strength, I wandered off towards Murk, who still stood at the same place as where he had slain the creature. “You’re all right?” Not the best opening sentence, I do admit, dear diary. The goliath looked at me, nodded a bit, then started probing into the debris and loose rocks lying in the vicinity. With his great strength he laid bare a small den, in it two large bags covered by dust. Murk picked up the first one, placing it between his legs, then opening it, revealing a pile of coins. As if the smell of gold lured him, Finn was suddenly with us. Reopening the debate on the conditions of joining our group. Looking up at Murk, then back towards Finn, I did admire the rogue’s steadfastness and devotion. Like a puppy demanding its bone back from the dragon.
Handing over one coin to Finn and to Jonathan and me, then closing of the bag, Murk ended the discussion with Finn decisively and once and for all. And the rogue looked happy, turning into a poet: “A coin of gold is a coin of gold, is a..” The second bag felt magically loaded, and I did not dare claim it, pointing it out to Finn. Rushing over he opened it, no magic traps, to find a set of gem stones. Imitating Murk, he gave us all one of the stones, keeping the rest for himself. Pleased with this all, and with the gold looking cord of the bag, Finn gave the bag minus cord to Jonathan. The priest immediately promoted it to his new hat. A strong indication that he was his old self again.
Our group traveled further, looking for the missing guards or just a way out. Murk and Finn took the lead, Jonathan and Gregot just behind, the cubs and me in the back, together with the strange goblin. Passing several caverns, we entered a passage that was man-made, leading into a large, dome shaped room. In the middle of the dome a stone foot, even larger than Murk’s ones, was hanging from the ceiling, at least ten metres high. Underneath a huge pile of cut off feet in all shapes and sizes, in all ages: bleeding fresh, rotting old, clean bone aged. Producing a terrible sight and smell. Not even the tanneries and the fish market of Nook could muster such a stench!
We remained standing in the entrance of the room, the sight of the stack of feet and bones and the huge stone foot above it was sure not a welcoming one. Looking around, none of us was volunteering to be the first one in. Finn was biting his medallion with such force that I was worried about both teeth and metal. “Let me search first for magic constructs!”; I hissed to the group, perhaps that would break this stalemate. Engaging my own ritual, kneeling down, opening the spell book, letting it bring up the correct page, concentrating and connecting, invoking the power, steering the survey with my right hand fingers. The room extended for several meters, however there were limited arcane energies to be found. The only thing I found was a group of metal feet, hidden within the pile of fleshy ones. But those feet would find their way to us!
As if the sniffing of my spell had awakened them, the metal feet started a stampede like Murk had invited a group of invisible friends! As they sped towards us, I sensed the necromantic magic powering them, gnawing at the magical field I was still projecting, up to I could not maintain it any more. Then the constructs pounced on us! As if guided by the magic field as a beacon, they found me, bowling me over, trampling and squashing me! Then everything turned dark and quiet. The mocking laugh of the Idol inside my skull was the last thing I heard.
Opening my eyes, I found myself floating in the room, looking out at the fight taking place below. I saw Finn’s magic knife whizzing through the air, slicing a metal foot. Murks maul connecting with two feet, instantly inflicting flat feet. The cubs escaping attacks by taking long hops, likewise Gorko pole vaulting to safety. My body lying flat pressed into the ground, not a pretty sight, dear diary! All of a sudden, the swarm of crawling feet constructs broke, running away, scared by a spell cast by Jonathan! Clearing the arena, almost to the disappointment of Murk.
All of this I observed in splendid silence, no sound or noise of the skirmish entered my bubble, I only could hear the occasional undecipherable whispers of Idol and spellbook. Even the shock of the enormous stones that Murk threw, descending on the fleeing feet, reducing them to pulp, did not reach me. With the feet gone, my companions had finally the opportunity to look into their and mine wounds. What Finn took too far, attempting to kiss me back to life. Neither he nor I turned into a toad, but the rogue should consider himself lucky that I was unconscious at that time!
Unfailingly Jonathan came to my rescue, using his arcane powers to stabilize and heal me. As he cast his spells, my mind crashed back into my body, and I came back to my senses, coughing and sputtering. Four men and a tree-man standing around me, studying and judging my convulsions and puking, my body making clear that this kind of abuse was not what the Gods had in mind. “Am I alive?” “Sort of, princess, you should be a little more careful when joining a melee. It’s not your typical ball or banquet where the biggest danger is your gnome friends trying to seduce you.” “At least gnome-men have the decency to kiss their ladies when they’re conscious.” “Remind me, next time when you’re helpless again, I will leave and ignore you, you and your chickens from the seventh hell!” The rogue then walked away and I accepted Jonathan’s hand, raising me up. “Thank you, I will skip the curtsy, unless you want one, but thank you very much and once again!” The priest just hugged me: “We were afraid that you were truly gone this time, Inez. Please, be careful out there!”
Deployed in formation, the flanks formed by Jonathan and Finn, the forward centre by Murk and the soft belly by Gregot, Gorko, the cubs and me, we carefully intruded the room further. Rather transparently the men had placed me even further in the back than normal. Lingering backstage was just fine with me, I still had to come to terms with what just had happened. Could use a bit of solitude, and having the cubs around did help. The strange goblin did not, and his questioning looks at me even less. At times I felt like he was checking my size, to make sure I would fit a goblin cauldron!
Looking out for remaining aggressive constructs or other traps, it was the obvious one that went off: The large stone foot hanging from the ceiling dropped, triggered by Murk moving under it. The goliath did not flinch, just caught the granite structure with both hands, like a halfling cook would have picked a hot bread out of the oven! Holding it for a few seconds, realizing that the weight was too much, even for him, Murk dropped the stone sculpture to the ground in a controlled way, away from us, next to the stinky pile of feet. In such a way that the giant feet gave the rotting stack a violent kick, sending bones and gore through the air!
The mishandling of the pile by the foot had increased the stench even more. Part of it had fallen over and a dent had formed where the big toe had made its impact. Disturbed flies and worse were zooming around. “Hey, wait, out of the way. That’s mine!”; Finn pushed his way past me, sticking his hands into the dent. With horror I watched him dig into the bones, ... and worse, to find a collection of golden jewelry and trinkets. “Look at these, they’re beautiful! Several rings, a bracelet, and these are pink and thumb rings! Anything to your liking, Red?” The rogue was truly happy with his catch. The smell and memory of the metal feet attacking me had made me step away earlier. But maybe I was a spoiled princess, and a true adventurer should dare to go the distance?
Searching the room further, we found an exit into a hallway on the far side. Here the natural grottos connected to the city sewers, with hopefully less monsters and a chance to find our way back to civilization. On top of that, several meters into the path, footsteps of two humans. We were back on the trail! On the other hand, the path led further down, and we could hear the sound of water, dripping and splashing. Before proceeding, Finn asked Gorko if he had visited that part of the dungeons. And whether there were even more and bigger creatures. And where his goblin friends could be. Our goblin accomplice produced even more cryptic and enigmatic jabbering than before. The shaman was in need of an artefact, Kherham was waiting for us, Gorko would lead us. Provoking Finn in accusations, even wanting to send him off. Jonathan, who else, ended the row, and silently we started moving into the passage, forming a long column.
We descended slowly for a while, making a turn, entering a dome shaped room again, this time clearly man-made. The place was flooded, a basin of dark stinking water, quite deep by the looks of it, was in the middle. A sort of footbridge went round the basin on both sides, joining at the other side in front of the exit gate. No foot was hanging from the roof, but the irregular splashing in the water did not bode well. “Was that a tentacle I saw there?”; Jonathan was pointing towards a point in the water, where some bubbles still could be seen. “Don’t trust it either. But there’s a way to find out.” A too smart looking Finn once more showed a piece of meat to the cubs. Then threw it far into the water, three cubs went into pursuit, but only the small albino one actually jumped in. Paddling and crawling, it by some means moved quite swiftly, advancing towards its floating target.
The cub almost reached the bait before a large tentacle seized it, pulling it under! “Inez!”; I hissed, since this one, the most beautiful cub, I had named after me. Just before I could curse at Finn, the cup resurfaced again with a loud splash. Somehow the little critter had escaped, landing in the water a few meters from where we were standing. Spurred by Jonathan, Murk stepped into the water, fishing out the drifting cub. Getting bitten by it as a reward, I hope my ‘thank you’ combined with the look of my blue eyes made up for it. The goliath man did not blink or blush. No need for comments, dear diary.
We decided in a moderately heated group discussion (A certain gnomish lady had some words for a certain halfling rogue.), that Murk would try to walk round the basin. Finn would be at the ready with his magical knife, Murk himself found a big piece of rock to supplement his maul. We watched in silence as the large goliath made his way, sort of tacitly. To everyone’s surprise, he made it to the other side undisturbed. Taking turns, we all made the same trip, with the same result, gathering on the other side safely. A surprising, almost disappointing outcome.
Moving through the gate we found ourselves in a spacious room, rectangular in shape, empty but with strange writing on the wall. Like the graffiti kids would write on the streets of Nook, except with strange symbols. Looking at them gave me the creeps. The room ended with a doorway, with even more symbols written on the door and doorposts. Murk and Finn walked and scouted the chamber, the rest of us followed along. With no traps or monsters found, we paused, time for a breathing space.
Intrigued by the markings, I joined Jonathan and Gorko, who were pointing at and discussing them. “So these are made by goblins, you say?” “Yes, our shaman made them. Just to practice.” “So do you know what they mean?” “Hard to tell, he taught me how to pronounce, not how to use.” “Could you teach me?” “Oh yes, let me show!” The goblin pointed with his stick at a symbol, then said: “à§(▲á´—▲)ノ” Followed by Jonathan repeating: “à§(▲á´—▲)ノ”. “Stop that!”; I shouted at them. “This is dark magic you're invoking. I can feel its power touching me!” “No, no, just practice!”;Gorko insisted; “Here, this one: “༼ ༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ༽” And “༼ ༎ຶ ෴ ༎ຶ༽” went Jonathan, black fumes started rising from the head of the goblin. This effect was spotted by Finn too, who suddenly stood aside me, whispering in my ear: “Don’t trust that goblin at all!”
To Jonathan, this seemed all a nice game, adventure, and he requested more, a wish Gorko was more than happy to fulfill: “Here, now try this piece.” Pointing at a string of symbols above the gate: “t(ಠ益ಠt)” The moment Jonathan followed, not only did black fumes appear, twisting behind him, the symbols lighted up as well. The grin of the Idol ringing in my head. The chill of dark magic entered my fingertips, biting my nails. I was not able to grasp what the effects of the spells were, cursing us or summoning mummies, their force was unmistakable!
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| Episode 18.Dark magic? Image generated by AI. |
“Now you’ve got to stop!”; I bellowed at the priest, poking him in the chest. “Yes this is the last warning, listen to Inez!”; added Finn. “You can’t invoke black magic without consequences!” “It’s just practice, like this one.”; the goblin cold-bloodedly pronounced another: “[¬Âº-°]¬” This time I hit the caster hard with my flat hand in his face. Stopping him mid-incantation, the fumes above his head fading and I felt the dark power shifting away. At the same moment Finn struck the goblin too, with a knife, killing him instantly!
The goblin dropped to our feet, the three of us staring. Me startled at the resolute and uncompromising action, Finn with determination and at ease, Jonathan bewildered and dumbstruck. Nearby Murk had watched the scene unfold, stone-faced calm as if death was just another rock on one’s path. “Told you I did not trust him. Better a dead goblin than a dead priest, or worse.” “That was a radical way of making that clear. It's reassuring that you trust me. Most of the time.” “Likewise, lady.” That ended Finn and mine conversation, the rogue cleaned his knife on the tags the fallen goblin was wearing, then shambled away.
Finn and I were presumably on the same page this time, but Jonathan wanted nothing more to do with the act, or with us for that matter. Sending me away, he started working on a grave for the goblin quietly, assisted by Gregot, who in some way made weeds grow over the shallow resting place. The little treant looked affected, leaves crumpled and hanging like they were in need of water. As for myself , I felt like a broken music box, copper wires sticking out, the tunes stuck and all that's left is a creaking sound. Pondering on what just happened, and about the out-of-body-experience I went through, I felt vulnerable and scared. Freedom and adventure do come at a price, dear diary.
Jonathan stayed cranky, mostly ignoring us. Murk did not seem interested in the incident, or in our discussions about it, or further plans. Likewise the cubs, not surprisingly. “My proposal would be to spend the night here, at the side farthest away from the door. Still have some energy to cast a spell to protect us through the night.” Taking the grunts as a yes, I sat down and got my spellbook out again. The men and cubs formed up around me. Without much reserve in arcane, I was thankful that the book helped me out, guiding me in performing the spell. Creating a sphere encompassing us, stabilizing it, locking it in place, done. I whispered words of thanks to Azuth and Mystra, and to the spellbook, that sent back an appreciating whisper.
And so dear diary, hopefully we will have a good night's rest in front of us. The mood inside is not one of high spirits, not helped with the cubs returning from a prowl with an arm of Gorko, chewing on it in turn, to Jonathan’s and basically everyone’s dismay.
Tomorrow we’ll need to have some serious thoughts and talks, but a rest is needed first. So till then, dear diary.
