Opening a dungeon door, the party spied a nest of especially large and fierce-looking rats. Having had enough rat-bites to last a lifetime they elected to spike the door shut then head back to camp to buy some flasks of oil and immolate them from afar. Returning an hour later, the room was now empty; the rats having exited through the doorway on the other side of the room. The party had counted on the rats staying put until they got back with the oil; they are just dumb animals, right?
Passing through the room and through the far doorway, the party found themselves in a narrow, labyrinthine passage. As they slowly proceeded they heard a voice crying out for help, just ahead. Ignoring the voice, they decided to explore a side passage and a few minutes later, heard the same voice crying out behind them. Returning to the place where they heard the voice, they found nothing. This same thing kept happening as they explored the labyrinth: voices in the dark behind them or around the next corner calling out for help, or persuading them to "come and play." Yet they party was never able to find the source of the voices.
It turned out that the voices were those of the rats, themselves, who were attempting to herd the party into to their main nest, a great hall in which the party was attacked on all sides by a swarm of giant rats, led by an enormous, hideously mutated nest mother.
Ironically, the monstrous rat-mother was killed without her inflicting a single wound on the adventurers, though the normal rats proved a considerably more difficult challenge, and they inflicted some serious wounds before the characters managed to kill them all.
And, thus, the session ended with the mystery of the weird talking rats and their mutant nest mother, and what, if anything, they signify.
This session was also the first in the campaign in which no player characters were killed and it was a welcome respite to end a session with players high-fiving instead of rolling up new characters.
Rats. Why did it have to be rats? |