The Curse of Grimdale's Tomb
The Last Templar
For many years my business took me all along the Southern Mountain Trade Route. From the farm of the MacMillan's to that of Pottsworth, from Celdis to Edel, I knew the road like the bank of my hand.
As a frequent traveler of the trail I also spent a fair bit of time clearing brush and fallen trees, digging out the random stuck wagon and filling in the inevitable ruts that developed in the high traffic areas. Once, while digging out a particularly stuck wagon, I discovered a particularly interested orb. What appeared to be an ancient relic from some order of Knights Templar! Alas, as soon as I picked it up it began to glow rather excitedly and then suddenly exploded, leaving me rather startled and even more intrigued.
I very often stayed the night out when I would venture far to the south, often lodging at the Inn of the Seven stars or the Suds 'n Stones tavern. In passing I asked around of the Templars to a few of the regulars at the taverns and towns. While nobody seems to have a clue, eventually word must have gotten around, for eventually a friend of mine mentioned the Templar in passing to the barmaid at the Suds, and although she had insisted to me on several previous occasions that she had never even heard of the brotherhood, as it turns out she must be as good of a liar as she is a barmaid! She hustled away from her shift to meet my cohort in the back room, where she informed him of another customer who actually claimed to be the last surviving member of the Templar! Not only this, but she sent him word that we were interested in speaking, and arranged a rendezvous just outside the inn the following morning at dawn.
I sat just outside the inn all night, having constructed a minor campsite for myself just a ways down the path where it ends beneath the sheer rock face of the mountains above. When the sun rose, sure enough a tall man clad in armor strode into the canyon. He told me of his missing brethren, and a lost castle filled with relics. Needless to say, he had my interest.
Now might be the time to reveal one important detail to you, the worthy reader of this tale. For you see, thus far I've stated my business took me far into the south hills, but, perhaps I should mention that this was mostly by necessity and not by choice. The Thain in the Shire and Marshall Diana of Ofcal would not take kindly to some of my, shall we say, creative business practices. So, nestled in the southern hills, along the shade of that overgrown trade route I found myself many lovely little "business opportunities" as the innocent and unsuspecting came strolling along.
I set about harassing the Knight incessantly. I arranged for a team of savages to ambush him time and time again, and eventually from his armor dropped an orb exactly like the one I had found along the trail previously, only this one did not explode. His gauntlets were more shiny than anything else, but excellent fodder to sell to tourists in Darkhaven. The old fool charged straight at me as he neared his end, and in his fervor bashed into the rock wall of the canyon surrounding us and lo a secret cavern lie within! In his defeat he had found the hidden mountain castle of his ancestors after all, and cried some apologies to his father as he breathed his final sigh. I laughed over his corpse and set about entering the dark tunnel myself.
The Cave
The darkness of the cave was exceptionally thick, and I had to guide myself by touch along its walls to follow the tunnel within. After stumbling through the blackness however I found myself to have traversed a circle and ended up back at the cave entrance! I ventured back in determined to scour the place as closely as possible, surely there must be an exit to the deeper caverns somewhere. At last my fingers finally touched upon some iron and upon examination I believed I had found the remnants of a shackle that once held a torch. A torch! Of course! I set out to gather supplies as quick as I could.
In my time as a highwayman upon the trade route I had come to learn that nearly all things could be gotten along that path. Travelers carelessly dropped more than they realized, and I knew that when supplies were needed they were likely to be found with a mere bit of scrounging around in the dirt. I quickly came up with some implements I could use to craft a rudimentary torch. Back into the cavern I flew, and alighting a torch in each of the receptacles I had discovered I could finally explore the tunnel with its secrets fully illuminated.
As the light filled the tunnel, something else seemed to happen . . . and whether by magic or coincidence I cannot say. While I could find no exit in the dark, with the torches lit I easily entered into an alcove I could swear was not present previously. Within sat an altar that told me this was in fact the lost castle of the Templar that Danvier had sought.
Before venturing further, I recruited a small band of what other ruffians and scoundrels I could talk into risking their lives for some potential gold and gear, and perhaps a priceless relic or two. We found that five of us could fit within the small altar within the cavern and there we sat, wondering how to proceed. Perhaps because it had been years and years since any of the party had been to a religious service it took us quite awhile to remember what exactly is done at an altar. Eventually, the party of blasphemers paid homage to the gods of the Templar, and once again our little orb of occasional explosions shone its light and when it dimmed we found itself within a new space, but was it a castle or a tomb?
The Guardians
We found ourselves at the center of a chamber with four pathways leading off in cardinal directions. Two of the paths were occupied by beings of great stature, and our death brigade dove straight into them. We learned that they were each a weapons specialist. As it happened, we had walked straight into a minotaur who fancied himself "The Axeman of the Templar". He died quickly and was of little consequence, we took his axe and his cape for our own. Next, we faced a rather nasty lizard warrior, who called himself "The Claws of the Templar" and spat at us a disgusting acid. Nevertheless, we showed him no remorse and took his claws.
At that point it had become apparent that two others had now occupied the remaining pathways within the chamber. We found these hallways to become more and more narrow, and within we found "The Hammer" and "The Deathdealer" of the Templar. We slaughtered them all. From one we received a small piece of metal with his weapons symbol upon it. We suspect there may be more of these to be found from the others, perhaps.
As if by magic, a trapdoor opened as soon as all four guardians ceased to be, and we stepped down into an even deeper level of this strange mountain stronghold. In this narrow hallway we were immediately confronted by possessed skeletons of long dead rangers