Return from the Mushroom Forest

Twas mid-afternoon by the time they passed their last mushroom.Though the land and air was no longer moist, or filled with potentially hallucinogenic spores, it was no less desolate. They traded the earthy mushroom forest for a drying wasted forest, their path weaving through the hills. Flint Fireforth was finally starting to believe his companions were something more than hallucinations.

As the party reach the crest of a hill the mangy head of a giant rose into view. Ducking behind rocks, and dropping to the dry leafy ground, the group decided wisely to not risk becoming someones dinner. Oblivious, the giant continued his amble to the east, never turning toward the hidden adventurers.

Now fully alert, the party made haste to Helmville.

The town cheered triumphantly at their return, as though they also had risked their lives for a few pounds of precious mushroom. The heros were led in to the town center, where they were greeted by the haggard Dr. Trusswilvene. His face shone with relief, and he quickly left with the bags of mushroom, leaving the young adventurers to their adulations.

And adulated they were! Vinn, the innkeeper, treated them to the finest dinner they had seen in months. With meats, vegetables, and only the barest hint of mushroom. Soon tipsy on Mushmead, each adventurer tried to retell the story of their adventure for the eager townsfolk, each tripping over one another with bits of the story, with goblin clans becoming armies, and their close call skirmishes becoming a legendary battle featuring favored gods.

"We fought a billion goblins! And we saved the babies! And it was Gooood!" The cleric told a pair of Auching dwarvish younglings.

"Auch!" They replied.

A bonfire was raised, and music and dancing filled the night. Melori praised her patroness Melora for her aid in battle, and danced in her honor. It was appraised as a good, but fruity dance, as the rest of the party, and the town folk, began Kossak dancing in triumph. Unable to game-face it, a drunken Yorma repeatedly kicked the local blacksmith, until she was pushed over, to everyones laughter. She was helped back up, and handed another stein.

~~

The next morn, their bodies singing from warm beds, extra blankets, and a mighty brunch, our adventurers met with the good doctor to gauge their success. He roused himself from his office chair, clearly the first shut-eye he had in days, and informed them the children were recovering. With the supply of mushroom they had procured the village would be safe from outbreak for years. He was overwhelmed, and grateful. With the permission of the village council, a portion of the town treasury was rewarded to them for the heroic deed.

"No, no, we can't take this." Krellian tried to refuse the money. The doctor placed 800 gold in his hands.

"It is yours. Divide it as you like. But do not return it" Reluctantly Krellian took the money, to the joy of his companions. Noting their eagerness for gold, the doctor was reminded of a crypt he had once visited nearby- on an unsuccessful scouting mission for some missing hunters. Town lore had it that the crypt held something of great value, though when he had found the entrance, he also found a swarm of fire beetles protecting a puzzle therein, and his party was forced to retreat. Not content with village life, the party signed on to explore the crypt.
"Have you heard of fire beetles before?" The doctor asked.
"Yes, I know ALL ABOUT fire beetles." Galah'ala assured his friends, his horns bobbing as he nodded convincingly.
"Oh good, then I won't bore you with the details. As you know, these are dangerous times. Please do be careful."
"Yeah, you don't want to get their itch. Their terrible beetle itch." Galah'ala added.
The doctor paused in confusion as the party left his office.

In town, the adventurers bought fresh supplies, argued over the fire-resistance of lard, and sharpened their weapons for the fight. Twas only mid-morn by the time they were cheered out of town, on their way to the old crypt. There was no path to guide the way, but the doctor had given them suitable directions. Even so, as they came over the rise of a hill they found themselves staring down a group of kobolds and a pair of clicking fire beetles, nearly the size of Yorma.

The beetles scuttled forward, their mandibles chortling and horking in an ominous fashion. Raising his weapon to the sky, Flint called forth a bolt of holy light, piercing a hell beetle, and calling Melori forward to join in it's demise. Krellian ran forward, swinging his longsword down on an angry beetle. Yorma, eager for the fight, threw an eldritch blast, which flew over the kobolds heads and struck a nearby tree. Pulling out her sword, Melori charged in beside Krellian and struck at the giant insect.

The kobolds hurried into position, two jabbing at Flint and Krellian. Another took aim and flung an earthen pot, which broke on the ground some ways behind Flint.

"Look out for oil!" Melori cried.

Murmuring under his breath, Galah'ala eyed a skirmishing kobold. Feeling his spine tingle, the little lizard glanced up at the warlock. His eyes grew wide, and he fell forward, just before a column of dark flame shot down from the heavens- obliterating his husk.

Encouraged by the smell of flame and charring, the fire beetles ceased their clicking and opened their mandibles, releasing waves of yellow flame. Krellian and Melori turned away, but when the breath was finished, they both smoked, their exposed skin brown and red.

"Urrg, it doesn't hurt that bad!" Krellian groaned, willing himself back to the fight.

"Back on your feet, Lass!" Waving his stout fist in the air, Flint restored Melori's vigor. The stench of the broken stink pot began to waft, and Galah'ala wretched at the scent. The battle continued until the beetles were beaten to the ground- before they released another fiery onslaught.

The kobolds, seeing their hulking pets collapse, began to run. Curses and marks struck them in the back, and before they reach the next hill they each fell into a heap.

"Hurray!" The party cheered in eerie unison. After a round of bandaging and brow wiping, Yorma and Melori cut away portions of beetle shell, hoping for protection from the next insects they'd face. The glands of the beetle were harvested, as they glowed a warm orange. Again, the party marched on, keeping wary of any passing hill giants or more kobolds. But they way was clear to the crypt, and when they arrived, they found a surprise.

Val! The ranger who had aided them in the mushroom forest, was collecting herbs nearby the old crypt. "This'll be useful!" She said, picking a last white flower and tucking it into her pack. Krellian offered her her cut of the reward money, and hearing about their quest to the crypt, she gladly signed on.

The crypt entrance was a pale sun-bleached granite, partially hidden under crawling vines. Galah'ala cleared away some of the brush to reveal the plaque the doctor had spoken of.

When order is reached

The way is clear.

Inside the one room crypt was a stone sarcophagus, it's lid loose. Krellian approached and cautiously pushed at it with one hand. It budged. Melori joined him and together they shifted the entire lid off the other side. But inside was empty. So empty in fact, that there was a ladder leading down into a dark cavern below the crypt. A gland was tossed down, illuminating a dry stone floor, and the passageway beneath.

The party climbed down, tossing glands ahead of them as they walked, revealing a curving tunnel, carved out of stone, that led into a large open room, most of which still basked in darkness.

In the middle of the room sat an alter, with square holes cut into it. From the throbbing glow of the fire glands, they could make out a deep hole, holding a set of small cubes with writing scribed on them. Krellian stepped forward to better examine them, and was greeted by six fire beetles, scuttling forward from the darkness.

Drawing their weapons, the party charged into their midst. Metal met hard shells, dark and light magics raised a frenzy of furied clicking, and the stone cubes sat waiting. The room burst into hot daylight briefly, and in the flash chutes were visible around the ceiling of the room, just large enough for a fire beetle. Peeking from behind their scavanged shields, Melori and Yorma nodded to each other before launching themselves anew at their enemies. In wild desperation the adventurers felled one horrid beetle after another, Flint and Krellian calling encouragements and casting divine aids to their friends.

One by one the beetles fell. And yet, in the silence where each man and woman bandaged their wounds, a quiet and copious clicking could be heard softly through the cool stone walls. Exchanging knowing looks, the party agreed to approach the dais again. Krellian stepped forward, and found the following.

Nine square holes cut into the stone alter top. Nine stone cubes numbered zero to nine, placed in a large square hole.

The party began examining the room, looking for more clues. Yorma began stuffing beetle corpses into the empty chutes to plug them. Glancing up, Melori found a bit of unusual writing on the crumbled ceiling.

"It's dwarvish." Someone noted.
"Dwarf!" Krellian called. "Read us what it says."
"Auch... something about... words." Flint replied, studying the ceiling.
"That's it? Words? You can't read your own language?"
"I had a bit of mushmead before we left." Flint confessed. The group sat down and waited for Flint to sober to have a clearer look at the writing. Val retrieved a game of Scrappli she carried with her to pass the time. Melori wandered back down the hall towards the sarcophagus. Eventually Flint looked up again. "It's about the order of the words. It's what gives them their power."
"The lid of the tomb reads 'WRITING'. Who knows what that means." Melori said, returning to the room. Chins were scratched. Beards were twisted. Brows were furrowed.
"I've got it!" Val cried. Pulling the cubes out and lining them up beside holes she explained, "Spell the WORDS, put them in alphabetical ORDER, and that's how they go." To the hesitant gasps of her companions, she nudged each cube into a box. 8, 5, 4, 9, 1, 7, 6, 3, 2, 0.

From within the walls they could hear the sound of wheels turning. The soft clicking crescendoed, along with the sound of crunching and wet pumpkin innards. Thin maroon liquid began to dribble from the unstuffed chutes. The party backed away towards the corridor as the trickle became a stream. A mash of legs, guts, and shells began to push out, tumbling to the ground. Some small fires flickered as the room filled with the crypt's offering.

Eventually the flow of mush tapered off, and the alter lowered and twisted out of sight, revealing a winding staircase.

~Apples