So there we wuz, me, Hrolfur, and Reynolds, and our coterie of Stony the dwarf, Expeliar the bard, and Arnulf the hired man at arms — standing at the top of the stairs, peering down into the bright murals of the dungeon. Folks said they were painted by some kind of Oracle all over this dungeon. Well, they sure were here at the entrance stairs.
The six of us took the stairs down to a large chamber with six statues, each of a different diety of the underworld. There were a number of doors and openings from this chamber, including some stairs down. We proceeded straight ahead, or nearly so. Passing by a couple of side passages, we finally selected a door to open, and inside we found three small black obelisks in the center of the room. The room had a couple of other doors. As we investigated the obelisks, a couple of burly fellows opened the door across from where we had entered. They were human enough, and Hrulfar and Reynolds engaged them in conversation. They wondered if we were here for ‘the meeting’. We replied yes, but they seemed dubious. They invited only two of us in to attend. Hrulfar and Reynolds followed them breifly, then set upon them.
We quickly dispatched them, then dragged their bodies into the room and began to loot them. Quickly we were set upon by their allies. They counted several dark priests and many skeletons among their number. After but a few rounds, we were all wounded, or worse. Reynolds’ leg was broken in two places, and he hobbled with the aid of his great club. Five of us managed to retreat through the door, and I held it closed for a few rounds as the wounded retreated toward the stairs. Eventually, the undead forced the door, and Reynolds read a scroll of darkness to keep the retreat from pressing us too hard. I attempted to hold the passageway against a couple of skeletons. Surely more pursuit must be on the way soon, but for now I will hold the passage.
No one would have made it out if it weren’t for Odo. R.I.P.