Gloomhaven

Session 1

Black Barrow

Returning to Gloomhaven with our latest haul of treasure, we approached the market in search of a good trade.  Unfortunately, there were only a few visible stands around that were not yet packed up for the day.  

A robed Savvas caught our eyes.  It had a few strange artifacts on display, but we approached with no great expectations, hoping our goods would fetch a decent price.  The Savvas silently nodded as we approached.  It picked through our haul and lifted up a single item, holding out a small bag for us in exchange.  Pouring out the bag's contents a single rectangular black-and-white coin drew our attention, we accepted the strange coin as payment.  Calmly we assesed that the coin may posses much more value than it first appeared to have and decide to research it further.  Heading to the university hours were spent looking through old records to no avail.  We ended the day at The Sleeping Lion, easing the frustration with a drink and loud laments about the coin.

"Those markings are very interesting."  Looking up we saw an Aesther standing over us.  "They describe a special meeting place."  The being drew us a map to the Temple of the Eclipse.  As we thanked him Jekserah, a Valrath woman wearing a red cloak and enough gold jewelry to keep us fed for a decade, approached and offered to pay us 10 gold each to track down a thief and retrieve some stolen goods, it seemed like as good an excuse as any to sober up and start paying off your tab.

"This thief has taken some important documents," said the red-skinned merchant, her tail whipping about in agitation.  "I don't care what you do to him.  Just bring back what is mine."  Based on Jekserah's description, it was easy enough to knock around a few alley thugs and get a location on the thieves' hideout.  You don't find yourself as a mercenary way out in Gloomhaven without knowing how to crack a few skulls.

The bandits hideout was easy enough to find, a short journey past the New Market Gate and we found the Black Barrow jutting out on the edge of the Corpsewood, looking like a rat under a rug.  Moving closer we found the mound was formed from black earth.  Its small, overgrown entrance presented a worn set of stone stairs that lead down into the darkness.

As we descended, we gratefully noticed light emanating from below.  Unfortunately, the light was accompanied by the unmistakable stench of death.  We were left contemplating what kind of thieves would make their camp in such a horrid place as we reached the bottom of the steps.  Here laid the answer, a rough group of cutthroats who didn't seem to have taken very kindly to our sudden appearance.  One in the back matched the description of our quarry.  

"Take care of these unfortunates," he said, backing out of the room.  We were able to vaguely make out his silhouette as he retreated down a hallway and through a door to his left.  "Well, it's not every day we get people stupid enough to hand-deliver their valuables to us," grinned one of the larger bandits, unsheathing a rusty blade.  "We'll be killing you now."  Joke's on them, if we had any valuables, we wouldn't be down here in the first place.

Clearing out the first two rooms we breached the door on the left that the bandit's boss had ducked through.  As the door opened we found ourselves face to face with the reason these bandits chose this particular hole to nest in: animated bones-unholy abominations of necrotic power.  In total we subdued 9 bandits, 7 archers and 4 living bones while avoiding 2 separate traps.  With the last Bandit dead we took a moment to catch our breath and steel ourselves against the visions of living remains ripping at our flesh.  Among the some treasure piles in the last room Krunk found old writings of the mad mystic Morsbane.  The rambling pages spoke of some great treasure he had locked away that would only grow more powerful and valuable with time.  

Staying on task the the target, the bandit boss and the merchants' papers, were not among the dead.  We braced as we descended deeper into the catacombs below… 

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DamianZimmerman

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