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Slumbering Tsar #11: Ghosts

The party encounters shades from the past in the wall-fortress of Tsar. -GM

10th day of Sarenith, 4717 AR

“Well look here, another group of dead adventurers. Or, if you aren’t yet, then soon to be dead.”

The screams of the dead filled of the air as they drifted into the room. The party was struggling; even Nonek had broken a sweat. We were tired, wounded, and outnumbered. Hope seemed fleeting, and for a moment I thought all was lost. But then, Neptune raised his rail gun, shaking in his weary hands. The weapon slowly panned towards the wraith, before exploding in a tidal-wave of light and sound. The monstrosity was blown into oblivion by the barrage of debris. And, like a spark catching, visions of victory sprung up before us. Nirot raised his voice into a cry of battle and plunged into the fray. Jackie Sparrow was like a darting viper, exploiting weaknesses and taking out foes at the perfect moment. The foes tried to surround Nonek, but he simply laughed as blow after blow glanced off his armor.  All the while I stood behind them, manipulating the world to better suit our needs. We were glorious in our sheer power, and the undead could not hope to compete.

From there we retreated, needing to regather ourselves and regain what energy we had spent. Soon, we were back within the keep. Down into the tower we went, looking for clues in order to solve the mystery that is Tsar. We eventually came upon some barracks, which may have been built for the more expendable soldiers of the city. The party opened the lockers in search of anything that could be of value or use, but sadly we didn’t find much. However, the next floor down was another story. Chained to the wall was a spectral man, bound by manacles as dead as he. It seemed that he had lost all belief in escape long ago. He slowly pulled up his head to gaze at us. “Well look here, another group of dead adventurers. Or, if you aren’t yet, then soon to be dead.” He soon dissolved into incoherent ramblings, but not before telling us that the only way to set him free would be to burn his body deep below.

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Slumbering Tsar #10: The Armory

The party gains some valuable information and continues exploring Tsar’s wall-fortress. The party’s techslinger, Neptune, narrates. -GM

9th day of Sarenith, 4717 AR

As soon as I heard the squeak of The Peddler’s cart, I sighed, wondering what ominously cryptic information he would give us.

We left the swamp, muck still clinging to our armor. Personally, I hope we never return. I hate mud and smelly swamps. We returned home, and while Nonek and Nirot were having their mummy rot and swamp sickness cured by Father Death at The Camp, Dio and yours truly made a quick trip to the capital to sell the spoils of our adventuring. It took two castings of teleport, and the second one landed us about a mile off-target. I pointed out that a technological teleportation device would never do that, but Dio ignored me. We also stopped in at the local library, to ask about the artifact we had recovered after the fight with the iron devil and the weird blade robot.

The historians told us that long ago, Orcus had a competition to decide his “Grand Cornu,” which is a weird way of saying second in command. There were 11 priests, and after competing, Orcus gave the title to the weakest and turned the rest into these statues. Orcus seems to have a pretty twisted sense of humor.

We returned to The Camp, and the night before we returned to Tsar, the weird old peddler who told us to not sleep in Tsar or “to darkness we would awake” decided to stop by. My keen ears heard him first of course, and as soon as I heard the squeak of his cart, I sighed, wondering what ominously cryptic information he would give us.

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