Echoes of Drakkenheim – Session 4
Beneath the Nest
The stench of rat urine and feces clung to the air as the party pushed deeper into the tunnels beneath the Rat’s Nest Tavern. They had survived the ambush—but the battle was far from over.
Further Down the Tunnel
Room by room, the party cleared out more of the ratling infestation. The makeshift warrens were littered with nests, bits of trash, and fragments of delirium the ratlings had scavenged. Some nests held trinkets; others simply held bones.
One chamber stood out: a foul-smelling food storage area where something moved just out of sight. To their surprise, it wasn’t a ratling—it was a woman. Bound, gagged, and badly beaten, she was barely conscious. After cutting her free and offering aid, she introduced herself as Petra Lang, a member of the Hooded Lanterns.
With her injuries severe, Elias summoned his enchanted armor, “Ol’ Rattlecan” whom he had befriended in Emberwood Village, and sent it marching back through the tunnels with Petra in tow. “Ol’ Rattlecan” would escort her safely to Emberwood Village.
The Rat Prince
Continuing through the winding tunnels, the group came upon a crude war room—if one could call it that. There, they met a grotesque sight: a massive ratling, far larger than any they’d faced before, and with a mouth embedded with shards of delirium.
He called himself the Rat Prince.
His voice was raspy and strained. The delirium in his mouth had replaced his teeth, glinting with octarine light as he snarled and charged into battle.
The fight was brutal. The Rat Prince struck with savage speed, flanked by his loyal followers. Solis was brought down after getting too close to the melee. But the party’s teamwork carried the day. Darius held strong, Elias’s divine power mended wounds as fast as they were dealt, and Solis and Chisic delivered decisive blows. When the dust settled, the Rat Prince lay still.
The Warlock’s Whisper
At last, they found what they’d come for: a chamber lit by the faint glow of a large delirium crystal, embedded in a rock set atop a crude pedestal. But they were not alone.
A pale, albino ratling stood in the center of the room, muttering softly to herself and to a strange, rat familiar. She spoke of the Rat God and its plans—half-raving, half-praying.
The party struck quickly, not giving her a chance to unleash whatever madness she held back. She fell in moments, her spells barely loosed.
Chisic took note of a journal clutched in her hands. Pages of strange script, arcane symbols, and ramblings about visions and the Rat God’s voice. He tucked it away, unsure of what it might mean… yet.
They gathered the crystal. Their task was complete. But all of them felt the weight of this trip into Drakkenheim.
Loremaster’s Notes
This session shifted the tone of the campaign. The ratlings weren’t just beasts—they were building something. Worshipping something. And whatever that something is… it’s listening? The delirium isn’t just corrupting the city—it’s empowering some of the unlikely denizens.
Next time: Arcane flames, contaminated hail, and visions from beyond the stars.