Grisgol, The Mummy King...

As the last of the air elementals dissipated, and an eerie silence descended, though Dandelion was quick to dispel it.
“Alright! What’s next?” he shouted with exuberance. Ayas shot him a look as if he’d gone made.
“You notice the door is barred on our side?” Terik asked emphasizing the “our”.
“I’ll open it,” Nine volunteered, taking a step forward.
 

A resounding “No!” erupted from the group , except for Dandelion. Nine stared back blankly, clearly mystified by the reaction. “It’s okay Nine,” Kai soothed him. “We’ll open it soon enough. Just want to think this through is all.”
 

“Oh come on,” Dandelion started again. “Tis better to kiss the lass than be troubled by ‘er.”
“What does that mean?” asked Terik, irritated. Nonplused, Dandelion slapped him on the back. “Look my savage friend. The only thing certain here is we can’t quit now. I mean, what kind of story would that make, huh?” “Nope. Just won’t do.”
Kai interjected at this point, “It’s a trap.” 

 

“Thanks for clearing that up, brother,” Wotan responded sarcastically. “The letter told us as much. Ayas, would you be so kind as to read it again?”

 

“Certainly.” Ayas reached within his stained cloak producing a leather scroll case. Opening it, he removed a page of thick vellum and read, “Search ye far or search ye near…” 

 

Wotan interrupted, “I’m sorry Ayas. I should’ve been more clear. Would you skip to the last couple of sentences, please?”

 

Ayas scanned the letter, “Hmm. Let’s see. Oh yes. Here we are. Beneath inverted ziggurat. Once garnered, think not that you’ve won, for now you’ll find you’re caught.”
“Yep,” Kai confirmed. “It’s a trap.”
“Yes, yes, it’s a trap,” Dandelion prattled, “But a cast is not a catch.”

 

With the group’s approval, Nine opened the door to reveal a wide, dry, corridor nearly twenty feet in height. The light from Kai’s sunblade intensified, clearly illuminating another set of doors ahead. They too were barred. “Well, whatever’s in there, someone didn’t want it getting out,” Ayas commented.

 

“Look at the bright side,” offered Dandelion. “It can’t be too terribly powerful if it can be held by some oak and a heavy bar.”
“Who says it’s just oak,” Wotan answered dreadfully. “This entire corridor reeks of arcane energy. Something quite powerful resides here. Or once did anyway.”

 

His words had a sobering affect and the companions approached the second set of doors with caution.

 

Once again, it fell to Nine to lift the heavy iron bar from its bracket. It fell to the floor with a reverberating clang. “Sorry,” he apologized.

 

As the clattering echo faded, Kai took charge, “Okay. Everybody ready?” It was a question that didn’t need asked. Clearly, somewhere between the two sets of doors, the rest of the group had morphed into character. No one spoke, they simply stared ahead determinedly. Satisfied, Kai smiled, “Yeah. We’re ready.”

 

The doors opened revealing a small room with a bare stone floor, a vaulted ceiling, and a slight odor of decay.

 

Immediately, three things stood out. Attached to the far wall, directly opposite the door, hung a massive picture frame of gold and silver. Within the frame shown a vibrant scene of tranquil serenity. It looked vaguely familiar. Lush green hills rolled toward a large stone keep in the distance, and strangely, they weren’t surprised to see the clouds and grass moving as if stirred by a gentle, silent breeze.

 

Directly before the picture, upon an ornately carved wooden bench, Elatus rested proudly. Its platinum hilt shone magnificently, filling them with a fierce desire to cross the threshold and draw it forth from its protective scabbard. It was an awe inspiring moment and though no one spoke of it, they could clearly feel the sword’s presence among them. 

 

However, and most importantly, standing between them and Ayas’s birthright was a horrific monstrosity the likes of which they’d never seen. 

 

Humanoid in shape, it stood over seven feet tall, an ancient bronze helmet adorning its head and obscuring its face, except for two glowing yellow orbs where its eyes should have been. The interior of the creature’s body had been constructed from the remains of broken wands, rods and staves. Lashed together, they formed a skeletal structure that had been wrapped with pages torn from an ancient ritual book. Completing the scroll mummy, hundreds of glass shards from shattered potion vials formed its hands, ending in long claw-like fingers.

 

Nine spoke. “Grisgol,” he murmured, and for the first time since joining them, emotion was evident in his voice. Wotan and Dandelion, turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.
“Hades, he’s right!” Ayas added astonished.
“Yeah,” Kai agreed. “I’ve heard that story, but surely it’s not true…”
“Wait a minute!” Terik demanded. “Who’s Grisgol?”
Kai explained, “A long time ago a king, Grisgol, had a realm somewhere within the Thornwaste, I can’t recall where. He discovered a way to live forever. And I know there’s more to it than this, but in the end, he became a lich.”
“That’s a lich?” Dandelion asked curiously. “Always expected a lich to be a little more… charming, I guess.”
“It’s not a lich,” Ayas asserted through clenched teeth. “As the story goes, a powerful wizard destroyed him and took his phylactery.”
“His what?” Terik interrupted.
“A Phylactery,” Wotan answered. “Think of it as a container, but instead of holding a potion or perfume, it houses the essence of the lich’s soul. You see, one does not simply destroy a lich. You must also find and destroy its phylactery. If not, it will simply reform in a matter of days.”
“That’s right,” Ayas continued. “And this wizard used his phylactery to power this, this, mummy, who he named Grisgol, after the king it once was.”
“Let me guess,” Dandelion said. “The wizard. His name was Keraptis.” 

 

It was exactly at that moment, the charming and debonair voice they heard earlier rang out, though this time minus the aid of a magic mouth. 

 

“Well done brave adventurers!” it boomed amid faint clapping. “Congratulations on making it this far. As you can see, your reward, the sword Elatus, lies before you. I do so wish I could have been here to congratulate you in person. Alas, my duties require my presence elsewhere. I shall let my associate, Grisgol, handle the negotiations.” 

 

“We have gold and gems!” Dandelion yelled toward the ceiling.
“I don’t think he’s interested,” said Wotan, nudging him in the arm and redirecting his attention. Meanwhile, Terik and Kai wasted no time in rushing forward to halt Grisgol’s advance. In their eagerness, they failed to notice the lurking danger.

 

A shimmering veil of distortion flowed from Grisgol to envelope them. The rest of the party watched horrified as the two stopped and turned to face each other, their eyes radiating with malice. Kai swung his longsword Fang, in a wicked, decapitating arc, but Terik’s agility saved him. Ducking under it, the half-orc stepped in, swinging upward with his fullblade and slicing into Kai’s unprotected armpit.

 

“Grisgol!” Nine shouted. “You die!” he added, rushing to join the fray.
“Dammit,” Wotan swore as Nine passed him. “Dout loerchik ui sia petran,” he cursed, pointing at the mummy. Instantly, sulfurous wisps of dark smoke begin to coalesce and curl around Grisgol’s body. “Scivarn ihk ve,” he continued, launching a glob of crackling, purple energy. It flew across the room, crashing into him, but separated into thousands of tiny droplets that fell harmlessly to the floor. 

 

Meanwhile, as the psychic onslaught subsided, Terik found himself the target of the former king’s ire. Jagged claws ripped across his chest, cleaving armor, tearing skin and rending muscle. A howl of pain escaped the half-orc’s lips as he tried unsuccessfully to escape. “Can’t move,” he announced with a slight hint of panic.

 

Ayas cast Wotan a look of concern before heaving his spear. It sped across the room on a collision course with the mummy’s chest only to be knocked away at the last second by a wild swing from Nine. Unfazed, Ayas advanced, repeatedly chanting, “Da nobis virtutem. Occideris hostis.” Immediately, the companions felt a rush of warmth infuse them, filling them with strength. 

 

Grisgol, intent on finishing the immobilized Terik, raised his manufactured glass claws for a killing blow. 

 

“Get back!” Dandelion shouted. The raw power of his voice, focused at Grisgol’s feet, caused the air to explode in a concussive blast, launching him through the air. Taking advantage, both Kai and Terik managed to slice into the mummy as he rocketed past, leaving a trail of shredded vellum and wooden splinters in his wake. 

 

“Finish him!” Ayas commanded as Grisgol slammed into a wall and slid to the floor. 

 

Skidding to a halt, Nine hammered downward with his longsword, biting deeply into the wooden framework of the mummy’s leg and causing sparks to fly from the flagstone floor beneath. Quick to join him were Dandelion and Terik, surrounding Grisgol and cutting into his fleshless body. At the same time, Wotan added to the carnage, blasting away with a bolt of hellish fire. Ravaged from the impact, scraps of burning paper exploded outward, leaving a gaping hole over the mummy’s sternum. 

 

“We’re going to have company!” Ayas suddenly warned. 

 

Standing before his father’s sword he gestured to the portal where two red-skinned monstrosities could be seen nonchalantly making their way closer. Large, muscular and unarmored, even at distance it was obvious they didn’t mean well. Furthermore, adding to the tension, nobody could identify who, or what, they were.

 

“Best be done with him and go,” Ayas suggested. Picking up Elatus, he reverently removed it from its scabbard. A smile, at least, the closest thing to one his friends had ever seen, played across his face. Blinking rapidly to ward off the threatening tears, he hefted Elatus and charged. 

 

A resounding clang rang out as Elatus chopped into Grisgol’s ancient bronze helm, forcing it back at an odd angle to give the appearance of a badly broken neck. Showing no mercy, he followed that up with a blast of dragon breath, lightning arcing out to shatter the upraised left hand of the prostrate mummy king.

 

At this point, it was overtly clear Grisgol was badly damaged, but it was equally apparent he had plenty of fight left in him. Shadowy tendrils rose from the floor around him. Snaking their way beneath armor, they wrapped themselves around the legs of Nine, Dandelion and Kai, subjecting them to a considerable amount of excruciating pain as the necrotic tentacles attached themselves. 

 

“Move!” Terik demanded as he found himself able to maneuver once again. Despite his agonizing wound he rushed to the aid of the only friends he’s ever known, laying into the mummy with a fierce onslaught of blows, each more powerful than the last. 

 

“Wotan!” Kai yelled. “Something’s wrong with Dande.” 

 

All eyes were instantly upon the Vistanni, and indeed, something was horribly wrong. His color had turned a dreadful ashy white. His eyes and cheeks were sunken and the skin of his face was gaunt and wrinkled. Wotan watched helplessly as Dandelion slowly turned his head to make eye contact. “I don’t feel so good,” he confessed, and promptly collapsed to the floor.

 

“Shit!” Kai exploded. Discarding his shield, he scabbarded Fang and drew his sunblade, griping it with both hands before launching into Grisgol with reckless abandon. 

 

The heavy blade bit deep, sundering the wooden framework of discarded magic items within. He was aided by Wotan, who, being careful to avoid his companions, let loose with another blast of arcane energy. This time his aim was too cautious and he only managed to scorch the wall beyond the former king. 

 

Rising to its feet, Grisgol was now a shell of his former self. His neck was twisted at an impossible angle. The bronze helm crowning his head was scuffed and dented. His left hand had been obliterated. A gaping hole in his chest issued wisps of smoke, and his left shoulder slumped, the framework supporting destroyed by Kai. Nevertheless, he yet remained dangerous. 

 

As a supernatural croak hissed from his mouth, the room erupted in a thunderous burst. Kai, Terik, and Nine were thrown back landing roughly on the cold stone floor, while Dandelion’s limp body was spun around violently. Ayas, behind the sheltering strength of his shield, managed to escape the blast. Turning, he saw blood oozing from Dandelion’s left ear. Too far away to be of help, he refocused his attention on the mummy. But something strange began to happen… 

 

Isolated areas of the dragonborn’s body began to grow uncomfortably warm. He tried to ignore it, but the warmth quickly escalated into an intense searing heat. Squirming, in a vain attempt to find relief, he noticed he wasn’t the only one affected. 

 

“I’m on fire!” Kai yelled as he struggled to rise. “My eyes!” he practically screamed. The capillaries had swollen and burst, turning his once white eyes completely red. Bloodshot and oozing, they looked atrocious.

 

“Uhhh,” Terik moaned as he rolled over. His nose was smashed and bleeding profusely, a bloody smear on the floor marking the path of his slide. Sitting up, he held his left hand before him. The pinky and ring finger, clearly dislocated, distended sickeningly. Gripping them with his right hand he cursed, “Piss off,” before snapping them back into their proper position. 

 

Of Nine, there was no movement whatsoever. He just laid there on his back, eyes open and staring unfocused at the ceiling. 

 

“Keep him off me,” Wotan commanded Ayas, as he ran and slid, coming to a rest next to the injured bard. Looking to the warlock Dandelion calmly proclaimed, “I’m dying,” Then, searching around quizzically, he added, “Isn’t there supposed to be some light or music or something?”
“You’ll be fine. Just a…” Wotan’s encouragement was interrupted as Dandelion squeezed his arm fiercely, exhaled slowly and went limp.
“Dandelion?” Wotan asked hesitantly. “Dandelion!” he bellowed with anger. 

 

Meanwhile, Ayas continued his assault, alone and unaided, Elatus slicing and slashing into Grisgol, who seemed less concerned with protecting himself than with destroying the life force of those around him. The former king did manage to land another grievous blow, but Ayas was not to be deterred. Ignoring his wounds, he continued the unrelenting assault. 

 

It wasn’t long before he was joined by Kai and Terik, spelling Grisgol’s doom. Surrounded now and badly mangled, the fight was over in seconds. 

 

Exhausted, Terik and Kai watched Wotan work on Dandelion, while Ayas moved to check Nine. “Damn you Vistani. Get up!” Wotan ordered, slamming the half-elf’s chest with his fist.
“Is he gone?” Kai asked sadly.
“Hey!” Ayas barked, seeking to distract him. “Why don’t you two give me a hand with Nine?”
“Yeah,” Terik agreed sullenly. “Come on Kai.” 

 

As the three stooped to lift Nine’s lifeless body, a loud gasp erupted from Dandelion. Returning to the land of the living, the bard sat up and looked around. 

 

“You okay?” Wotan asked hesitantly.
No response. 

 

Confused, and a bit worried, Wotan reached to check his pulse. He never got to…
“Dammit Warlock!” Dandelion suddenly exploded in anger. “You wake me?”
Taken aback, Wotan looked to Kai for assurance.
Kai just shrugged, bewildered.
“I was just about to seal the deal with a pair of beautiful elven girls!” Dandelion smiled. Until he saw Nine…
“He gonna make it?”
“All his pieces are here,” Terik answered. “But he ain’t breathin’.” 

 

“Warforged don’t need to breathe,” Wotan said. “Load him up. It’s time to go.” Pointing, he added, “I believe that thing’s a portal. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be here when those two arrive.” 

 

The portal within the gilded picture frame had changed. Gone was the peaceful blue sky, replaced instead by an angry, dark, storm-filled cloud. Unfortunately, as Wotan pointed out, the mysterious red-skinned creatures were still there. But, whereas before their gait was nonchalant, they now moved with sinister purpose…