With the giant werewolf out hunting, the group prepared an ambush. Gark, Joe, and Morthwyl climbed into trees, while Bessok remained on the ground, potentially as a lure. Bessok, with his enhanced darkvision, peered into the cave, discerning more werewolves pacing within, along with several dire wolves and regular wolves. They seemed to be waiting, perhaps for their leader's return, before springing their own trap.
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| The Giant Werewolf |
It didn't take long. The smoke from the burning trees acted as a beacon to the giant werewolf, who came roaring up the valley, charging straight for the nearest target: Gark in his awakened tree. With a massive club, the Weregiant almost knocked Gark out of the tree, its huge bite following swiftly, dealing even more damage. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Gark transformed into a Giant Eagle and took to the air, leaving the awakened tree to grapple the surprised Weregiant with its branches. While the Weregiant was caught, the rest of the group unleashed their attacks.
Noticing the commotion outside, the dire wolves were the first from the cave, rushing past Bessok to aid their leader, biting and clawing furiously at the tree. Arrows continued to rain down from Joe flying above, while Morthwyl leapt onto the Weregiant, stabbing and bashing the back of its neck. Realizing the unfair fight, the Weregiant brushed aside its attackers and made a dash for the cave entrance, still guarded by Bessok. The wolves from inside rushed out to assist but were instantly decimated by Bessok's ghostly dwarven spirits, taking down more than half of them. The last of the cave werewolves also charged out to help.
Meanwhile, Gark had returned to the ground, shifting back to his half-orc form, and summoned a fire elemental directly beneath the giant werewolf, setting its fur ablaze. Morthwyl, with both weapons spinning, smashed through the dire wolves, which fell one after another.
Though it put up a valiant fight, the giant werewolf, unable to reach safety, eventually succumbed to the onslaught. Joe's precisely aimed arrows finally brought the creature down. The remaining werewolves didn't last much longer, and within seconds, peace returned to the valley as the threat to the nearby villages was ended.
Once the battle was over, they explored the cave, finding a few magic items. More importantly, it offered a safe place to rest for the night, as the sun had set and stars filled the sky. The group brought their Hippogriffs into the cave, settling down for food, ale, and a long sleep, punctuated only by Gark noisily cutting off werewolf heads and threading them onto a long rope.
Morning arrived, with Gark grinning like the cat who got the cream, covered in blood, and festooned with a thick rope threaded with all the werewolf heads. Taking to the air on their Hippogriffs, they made the short trip to Yartar, landing in the courtyard of the Shield Tower, where the Shields were engaged in their morning training. The Captain, surprised to see them alive and carrying the giant werewolf head, quickly retrieved a strange magical gem to identify the werewolf curse on each head.
Not having the payment readily available, the Captain informed the group that the Waterbaron herself wished to meet them and would pay them at the same time. She also had an offer to make. The meeting was scheduled for dinner before sunset, and a suggestion for them to dress up was politely offered.
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| Nestra Ruthiol, Waterbaron of Yartar |
As the sun began to set, the group made their way to the Waterbaron's Hall, a Town Hall doubling as her residence. They were led into a spacious banquet hall with a huge table capable of seating over two dozen. Currently, only the first four seats, alongside the head of the table, were set. A wizard waited by the opposite doors but offered no small talk.
Eventually, Nestra Ruthiol arrived. She was a woman in her fifties, visibly aged by life's demands but with a sharp mind. Joe, an expert in reading people, noted her assessing everyone, weighing their words and silences, determining their character. He recognized a kindred spirit.
Nestra placed an expensive satin pouch on the table, filled with gems—their payment for ending the werewolf threat. After offering her thanks, she presented a new problem: Important figures in Yartar—nobles, artists, scholars—had been going missing, four just the night before. Her wizard had divined their location to the Hallix Mausoleum in the cemetery, but beyond that, something powerful was blocking his abilities. Nestra admitted she'd rather send the proven group than her Shields to a likely slaughter. For this task, she offered the same substantial payment again.
The group agreed, taking the names of the missing. They spent the first few hours after the meeting retracing the steps of the Shields, visiting the homes of the missing, questioning friends about their habits and characters, and searching for overlooked clues. They learned that something bestial and ape-like with claws and a demonic sound was involved in the abductions. Others, possibly cultists, accompanied these creatures. With a basic understanding of what they might face, it was time to head to the Hallix Mausoleum.
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| Map of the areas discovered in The Hallix Mausoleum |
A squat, unassuming granite block of a mausoleum, it withered in the shadows of much grander monuments. A rusty, broken chain and an open padlock offered no true barrier. When pushed open, the door swung silently and smoothly, contrary to expectation. Inside, six stone coffins lined the walls, all empty except for scraps of cloth and bits of bone (C1).
Stone stairs descended into darkness. Gark, in sabretooth tiger form, led the way into a large subterranean chamber with stone coffins on sturdy shelves (C2). Part of the west wall had collapsed, creating an opening into another chamber. Five pale, desiccated warriors in wicked-looking armour marched aimlessly around the area.
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| A Wight |
Through the collapsed wall, the next chamber (C3) was much larger. Roots protruded from cracks in the ceiling. A stone stairway in the southeast corner had collapsed, and nearby walls crumbled. Three doors lined the north wall, the middle one bearing a new padlock—the same type seen on a door to the south. To the west, stairs led to a small balcony five feet above, with a single door painted with an eye.
This was the first cult symbol they'd encountered, but its meaning was unknown. The group decided to proceed room by room, starting with the bottom path leading to a closed, padlocked door. Joe attempted to pick the lock but failed. Bessok, pulling a battering ram from his Bag of Holding, proceeded to bash the door down.
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| Umberto Noblin |
Initially wary, the gnome, Umberto Noblin, eventually revealed his abductors were members of the Cult of Vecna. Bessok, from his religious studies, knew of Vecna: a man who became a lich, then a God—an Evil God of secrets and powerful magic. Umberto, he assured them, was absolutely not connected to them. Unconcerned by his supposed affiliation, the group sent him on his way, back to the Waterbaron, who was awaiting his return. Umberto scurried out, overjoyed to be free.
Moving to the next room, Bessok opened the door to a simple supply room (C6). It contained a few bags, boxes, and crates. Beyond manacles, chains, and lantern oil, they found obviously fake healing potions which, upon inspection, turned out to be potions of poison.
Across the room, they opened another door, revealing a metal grate (C4) set into the floor, blocking access to a shallow stone pit holding a small gold harp, a handful of loose papers, and a piece of bloody cloth. Trying to pull open the grate, Bessok was struck by a trap that sliced his fingers and attempted to inject poison, though his Dwarven constitution resisted most of it. While the trap reset, he quickly reached in and retrieved a very expensive golden harp and the papers.
The papers detailed plans to kidnap a Neverwinter aristocrat named Indrina Lamsensettle, one of the missing persons! The notes included a map of her estate, schedules of her movements, and suggestions that she possessed an important secret about Lord Neverember. A scrawl in the margin claimed, "…her secrets will make a worthy sacrifice," whatever that meant. They recalled that her friends had mentioned she fled Neverwinter with her acting troupe, perhaps connecting the two.
Moving to the final door, another lock stood in their way. This time, Joe's fingers worked their magic, a click from his lockpicks opening the padlock. The door opened to a short corridor leading to a crypt (C5), holding a single open coffin containing a few tattered blankets. A pouf of wild black hair sprouted from one blanket, belonging to Sarcelle Malinosh, one of the missing nobles.
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| Sarcelle Malinosh |
The group continued deeper into the mausoleum. Gark, still in tiger form, took point, climbing the stairs and passing through the door into the next room (C13). This small room appeared to be a crossroads between different underground sections of the graveyard. Steep stairs descended from the east and west sides, and four bells of different sizes hung from leather cords attached to the ceiling. Even as a tiger, curiosity got the better of Gark, and he playfully swatted at one of the bells, unknowingly alerting the cultists in the next room.
The next chamber (C14) was larger, with tables and chairs arranged like a meeting room or mess hall. Water dripped from a pipe into a basin in the southeast corner, beneath a detailed image of a staring eye gripped in a withered hand—the symbol of Vecna. Alerted by the bell, five cultists spread out, ready to meet the group. Gark, confident in his abilities, leaped into the room between them, taking the initial charge. Unfortunately, these were not Elemental Cultists, but Cultists of Vecna, most possessing powerful magical abilities.
The lesser cultists swiftly moved in, reaching out to touch the tiger and drain its lifeforce. Struck hard by the initial charge, the more senior cultist decided to flee into an adjoining room, up a small set of stairs (C16), where two more senior cultists had been dozing. The sounds of fighting quickly roused them.
Bessok, Morthwyl, and Joe followed Gark. Joe remained at the top of the stairs, firing arrows down, while the others charged into the lesser cultists. Using one of his "special arrows," Joe unleashed a cloud of choking dust over the area, which unfortunately also caught Gark. A coughing, sneezing tiger makes for a less-than-formidable attacker! The unaffected lesser cultists continued to drain the tiger's life with their evil magic.
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| Cultists of Vecna |
And then things became much worse. The three powerful senior cultists moved in. One unleashed a potent cone of cold over everyone, even the lesser cultists, freezing them instantly as life left their bodies. The frozen "popsicles" exploded seconds later as two fireballs rained down, the damage overwhelming Gark, kicking him out of his tiger form and back into his half-orc self.
Firebolts flew, fireballs exploded, more cold blasts—the three powerful mages inflicted untold damage. As Gark tried to retreat, one of the mages gave chase, teleporting past Joe to continue the pursuit. As Gark reached the collapsed wall, another cold blast washed over him, dropping him to the floor in an unconscious heap.
While Bessok and Morthwyl battled the other two mages, Joe turned and sent a powerful fireball into the back of the cultist who had downed Gark. The cultist remained standing, returning fire with his own fireball. Not enough to drop his target, Joe fired again, this time reducing the cultist to a fine mist of blood, ash, and bone. Immediately, Joe rushed to Gark, who was sucking his last breath, grabbed a healing potion, and poured it into the half-orc's mouth. It couldn't have been closer! Gark sputtered back into consciousness.
The cultists' own fireball had almost killed one of his fellow mages, so Bessok and Morthwyl swiftly finished off the remaining two, allowing the group to finally stop and catch their breath. That was one tough battle they won't soon forget.
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