Chapter 3 / Episode 72 – The Evil Cleric of Gruumsh
Date: Planting 4, 576 CY - The Temple of Highport
Weather: Steady winds from the west; salt spray on the air. Night falls clear beneath a full, watchful moon.
Players
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Dog, Ranger of the Gnarley Forest
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Irving, the Reluctant, Paladin of St. Cuthbert
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Slash the Bard
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Oleg, Half-Elven Cleric/Magic-User/Thief of St. Cuthbert
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TerryOr, Cleric of St. Cuthbert
Narrative Recap
The companions pressed deeper into the temple’s darkened halls, their boots echoing across stone corridors thick with incense and the stench of blood. They debated their path carefully, wary of patrols. Two slain bodies were locked away in an office, and Dog finally forced open the great double doors, the party slipping through just as a band of sentries marched past in the gloom.
Time was slipping rapidly away from the companions, its flow carrying with it the chance that their presence within the temple would remain unnoticed. Wary of the regular patrols that kept a vigilant eye on the temple courtyards and grounds, Dog the Ranger, and Oleg, the reformed thief knew that even a casual inspection of the courtyard that had played host to their most recent battle would raise an alarm. Working as a team, the companions quickly tied the body of the half-orc that had greeted them upon their arrival to a chair, establishing as natural a pose as was possible with his mangled corpse, and then stashed the other corpses in a small office adjacent to the courtyard, locking its door to prevent casual inspection. This hasty effort at continued stealth complete, they pressed deeper into the temple’s darkened halls.
Dog managed to force the door open the great double doors at the southern end of the courtyard just as a band of sentries, and his companions quickly slipped inside the hallway beyond. As the double doors swung silently shut, a band of sentries, regular as the workings of a clock, passed on the battlements above. The party held their breath as the echoing booted steps above slowly passed beyond hearing. Their ruse held… for now.
The hallway they had entered was nearly pitch black, and Dog called forth some light from his enchanted bow to aid the vision of those unable to see outside of the normal spectrum. The corridor proceeded for a much greater distance than the light was able to illuminate, its soot-covered stone floor leading onwards into continued gloom. Alcoves penetrated the walls every ten feet, each holding the hideous but well-sculpted effigy of a fearsome Orc warrior. Frustrated by the delay a careful inspection might cause, and knowing that knowledge of their presence was an eventuality if given time, Terry Or cast a Find Traps spell, While Oleg sent a mystical set of lights dancing down the corridor to illuminate its entire length. The corridor extended for another one hundred feet before ending in a large bronze door.
Hurrying forward as rapidly as stealth would allow, the party scrutinized the door. While Terry assured them that no traps were present, Slash, unsure that Cuthbert was truly watching over the rash cleric, checked for himself. While the bard agreed that no traps were present, his inspection revealed a glyph that translated into common read, ‘Evil Servant’.
As the party approached to open the portal, the glyph flared with malignant power. Irving the Paladin, his finely tuned senses honed still further by the stress of their current situation, divined that the level of chaos behind the door was, at best, profound. Terry tried to dispel whatever malignant magic was present within the glyph upon the door, but failed, its power too malevolent to be simply dismissed. Their time slipping away, Slash the Bard, frustrated by the delays caused by these cautionary procedures, strode boldly to the door and effortlessly swung it open.
Beyond the bronze door lay a temple-like room. Thirty feet from the entrance, a towering statue of Gruumsh, the one-eyed god of orcs, sat atop a three-tiered dais that formed a thirty-foot diameter half-circle at the rear of the chamber. The dais was flanked by flaming braziers, the light from these sending shadows dancing about the room like the evil servants of a powerful demon. A coffle of slaves huddled in terror against one wall, their chains and manacles clinking sullenly in the flickering light as the cackling laughter of a woman in black vestments the idol’s base, her presence commanding, her eyes alight with fanatical devotion, accompanied the crackling of the brazier fires. This laughter was quickly drowned by the metallic clanking of plate mail as three armored half-orcs wielding halberds rushed forward to greet the newcomers.
The evil cleric raised her voice in curses, calling down silence and dark blessings upon her followers. But faith held stronger. TerryOr’s mace cracked her defenses, and with the companions pressing in from all sides, she fell—her lifeblood staining the stone at Gruumsh’s feet.
When the fighting ended, silence fell heavy in the chamber. Ten captives were discovered chained in the shadows, their hollow eyes widening with disbelief at freedom. At the idol’s base, Oleg retrieved his dagger from where it had fallen. The statue itself loomed untouched—but a hidden trap door beneath it revealed three bags of treasure: coins, a gem of remarkable value, and further spoils of the slain. Among the spoils was a strange vial, which TerryOr tested himself—discovering it to be a potion of speed, potent and dangerous if used unwisely.
Closing Scene
The torchlight flickered across Gruumsh’s one-eyed visage, casting a baleful gaze upon the weary adventurers. Irving wiped blood from his mace and looked up at the idol, his voice low, heavy with unease.
“Gruumsh… here?” he muttered, shaking his head. “This is no shrine of orcs. This is the Temple of Elemental Evil. What dark hand twists these cults together? Chaos upon chaos, and still it spreads.”
No one answered. The full moon outside lent no comfort, its pale glow slanting through a crack in the stonework. The sense of victory was hollow, and the deeper dread remained: if Gruumsh was worshipped here, what other gods of ruin might already have found foothold in these walls?
The prisoners trembled, the treasure bags sat heavy at their feet, and the shadows of the north wing waited in silence.
Outcomes
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XP Earned: 800 each for the session.
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Treasure Found:
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Magical mace +1 (reserved for Oleg)
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Oleg’s dagger recovered after being thrown in combat
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3 bags of treasure from the trap door beneath Gruumsh’s statue (300 gp each, plus a gem worth 2000 gp)
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550 gp from slain foes, plus assorted jewelry and coins
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Potion of Speed (tested by TerryOr)
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Bundle of unreadable papers for later study
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Rescued: 10 enslaved prisoners, freed from the cleric’s hold.
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Condition of Party:
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Irving gravely wounded, restored through Dog’s ministrations and TerryOr’s spells.
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Slash survived the assassin’s strike but carries the scar of poison.
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Narrative Arc: A powerful female cleric of Gruumsh has fallen, her prisoners freed and her hidden hoard uncovered. Yet the idol of the orc-god still looms, and the temple’s northern passages remain heavy with threat.
Monsters:
- 6th level evil cleric (AC 1 due to dexterity, MV 6 \ Level 6, hp 30, *AT 1 D by weapon type)
- 3rd level fighters (AC 3, MV6". Level 3. hp 20, # AT 1. D by weapon type)
- 4th level assassin (AC 7, MV 12", hp 12, # AT 1. Dby weapon type, backstab for double damage)
A priestess, clothed in close fitting dark robes, beckoned from atop the dais. Her stance was aggressive and hate-filled, and her very countenance communicated evil… but she was gorgeous. “I wonder why the best-looking ones always wind up being evil?” Slash wondered as a sharp pain in his back redirected his attention to the fight at hand. An assassin, originally hidden behind the opening door, had stabbed him with his deadly blade. Slash returned the thrust, skewering the would-be killer and knocking him to his knees. Unfortunately, the assassin retained his grip on what could only be a poisoned blade. Flash mentally registered the presence of Terry, the party’s cleric, to his rear as he avoided another thrust from the dagger of his wily foe. Slash chopped downwards, his longer blade finishing his hapless opponent. He then turned to meet the charge of the orcs he had seen upon entering… and was shocked that the cleric was no longer to his rear; was not preparing to neutralize any toxin the assassin may have administered during his attack!
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