My wife, after hearing all about the first session from my son, decided to join in this time (I introduced her to RPGs when she was in high school, so she's an old hand). Despite a twinge of regret that she might take the leader role away from my son, I welcomed her and had her roll up a PC.
...And the bitching started. She didn't want 3d6 in order, and she thought her rolls were hopeless. And she wanted a "real" character sheet, not the notebook paper we were using [I printed off a copy of a B/X character sheet for her.] She had rolled:
Str 11 Int 12 Wis 17 Con 8 Dex 12 Cha 13
I told her those weren't hopeless at all, and that she had a great Wis. She complained that she didn't want to be a cleric. I told her she didn't have to be a cleric, even with those stats. I suggested an Elf, which she accepted, to my surprise (she ALWAYS plays single-classed humans -- usually a beautiful sorceress, but sometimes a fighter or paladin). She was relieved to discover that I gave max hp at first level, and surprised that her low Con didn't give a negative modifier. She bought equipment and I started play with her Elf finding the tracks of the other survivors in the desert. She followed them to the Lost City and the ziggurat, and proceeded inside. [At this point I discovered that she had purchased a 10' pole. Amused, I ruled that she wasn't lugging a 10' pole around the desert, but rather found a suitable wooden beam or shaft amidst the ruins when she happened on the Lost City.]
The Elf left her pole at the entrance and entered the statue room with the bronze cylinders. Unlike the other PCs, the Elf spiked the door open. She also heard the gas hissing into the room, so she located and plugged the small holes with more iron spikes, tapped home. Carefully stepping around the open trap-door, she first went up the ladder and found herself inside one of the bronze statues. Noting the levers, gears, speaking tube, etc., she realized the purpose of the place, but didn't try manipulating anything. She went back down the ladder and into the storage room that used to be the fire beetle lair. She saw the signs of a recent combat (blood drops, dead beetles) and evidence the room had been carefully searched (open containers, disturbed dust, etc). Listening at all the doors, she heard voices to the east, so she opened the door and came upon the other PCs and followers, resting and cleaning up after their combat with the masked men.
After a brief reunion and recap, the united PCs set off. They took two masks that weren't ruined in the melee (a cat and a fox), and the Elf retrieved her 10' pole. One of the desert nomads ended up carrying it. [My wife did take on a lot of "leader" role, however, I played up the Fighter's superior Cha by having the NPCs always deferring to him; he ended up directing their actions and using his Cha to good effect. Noting that Holmes rules don't really reward a high Wis (unless you're a Cleric), I also played up the Elf's Wis by giving her some "common sense" ideas/advice as they explored.]
The PCs went through the southernmost door on the west wall of the beetle/ladder room (this was the door the masked men had first come through). They decided the Elf should explore the corridor using her infravision, so she crept down the passage, alone, while the Fighter kept the door cracked and an ear cocked. She noted the presence of a secret door on the north wall of the passage, but continued to look around the corner where the corridor made a turn to the south. Seeing more corridor and a door, she returned to the party and reported what she had seen. The PCs decided to check out the secret door, and moved into the passage.
[I decided that this secret door couldn't be opened by a die roll, but rather by twisting an (empty) torch sconce in the center of that section of wall.] The Elf started trying to open the secret door. I asked her "what do you do?" That took her by surprise -- she's used to handling such things with die rolls. She said she started pressing the stones, running her hands along the cracks, et cetera. I drew a sketch of the wall section (including the torch sconce) and indicated fault lines where she thought the door was. I told her she was sure the door was there, but nothing she did caused it to open. My son said "pull the torch thing." She said "I was going to do that..." and tried it. It didn't work. Finally, she tried twisting it, and I described a grating noise as the section of wall pivoted and started to swing open, giving the PCs a look at the chamber beyond.
The room beyond was about twenty by twenty or so, and almost as tall as it was broad, with a domed ceiling. A shaft of light shone down from a hole in the ceiling, giving some illumination that showed dust, sand, and rubbish of some sort on the floor. Something shiny glinted there as well, but the PCs attention went immediately to multiple large birds or bats that made high shrieking noises and launched themselves towards the opening door.
A deadly struggle took place as the stirges dove on the PCs. Several were cut down as they attacked, but two of the monsters struck home, thrusting their long proboscises into necks and latching on with tiny talons. Both the Fighter and the Elf suffered this misfortune. The Fighter responded by drawing and using his dagger. The Elf grabbed the nasty creature with her hands, trying to rip it free. The rest of the PCs swung weapons (and a torch) at the other stirges. Both the Fighter and Elf succeeded in their attacks. The stirge previously attached to the Fighter was wounded and flew off. The Elf grabbed "her" stirge with a natural 20, so I ruled that she not only pulled it off, but also could throw it to the floor, doing damage, if she wished. She did, but the creature still lived, and took to the air again, like some horrid mosquito coming back for another pass. A desert nomad had a stirge attach to him and begin to feed; the cleric pulled the beast off and thrust it into the torch flame, but the nomad passed out from pain, fatigue, and loss of blood [he went to exactly zero hp]. The party triumphed, however, killing all but one of the monsters; the last of them flew off, escaping through the hole in room's ceiling.
The PCs all entered the chamber and shut the secret door. They made a search of the room, finding dried husks of desert mice, serpents, and scorpions amidst sand and dust that had blown or drifted in through the hole. Half buried in the foul nest-like lair of the stirges, they found several valuable gemstones, including a beautiful star sapphire with a "floating" star. The elf also found a second secret door in the north wall of the chamber, but no other entrances or exits. The PCs decided to "hole up" here to rest, despite their thirst [they were hurt]. I told them that they could probably go one more day without water, but that they would soon start suffering badly. They used iron spikes to wedge both secret doors, and kept watch for the stirge. [The stirge did return, but it was shot and killed by the elf, who had a bow at hand for just that purpose.]
After resting, the unconscious NPC woke, begging for water. Feeling better, but the first signs of extreme thirst causing a sense of desperation, the PCs decided to split the party. The three PCs would go through the north secret door and look for water. The three NPCs would remain here, and spike the doors shut, again. A special knock to signal their return was decided upon, and the PCs set off on the do-or-die attempt to find water.
They explored the corridor beyond to its end, noting, but not opening, any doors. At the end of the corridor, they discovered three large pottery urns. The first had a lid marked with three circles. The other two had lids marked with three water drops. Excited, the Fighter opened the water pots, only to discover empty containers with metal dippers resting on their bottoms. The pot marked with circles was filled to the brim with sand. Disgusted, the Elf said she was going to each door in the passage and listening. In the meantime, the Fighter wanted to search the sand-filled pot, transferring sand to an empty water urn.
The Elf heard nothing from all the doors except one, behind which she heard high pitched, laughing voices. She returned to report just as the Fighter discovered a small leather pouch buried about a foot into the sand. [This was a treasure not in the module, but I wanted to reward my son's idea about searching the sand to encourage him. I decided that a Cynidicean thief had stolen a small piece of jewelry and been forced to hide it here, long ago, to avoid being caught with it. He never got a chance to retrieve it.]
The PCs went to the door where the Elf heard voices and burst in, expecting more masked men, and hoping they had water. Instead, to their great shock, they interrupted a group of a dozen sprites having what appeared to be a party atop some wooden crates in the middle of the room. This surreal sight took the PCs by surprise, which seemed to greatly amuse the faeries. The Fighter then asked them who they were using his poorly accented "ancient Common," which caused even greater mirth from the fey people, who seemed to be drinking wine from tiny cups. The sprites poked fun at the PCs, which they took with good grace, and a conversation (in normal common) sprang up. It seems the sprites were on "an excursion" or "on holiday!" from the "enchanted gardens" far below the ziggurat. [The sprites were referring to the Orpheus garden and mushroom fields -- I decided to have them living there, amongst the dream and drug addled Cynidiceans that are perfect targets for fey pranks.] The sprites gave the PCs each a tiny cup of potent faerie wine, but that did little to slake their thirst. The sprites also advised them that water could be found in the chambers of "the Brotherhood," and told them generally where those chambers were. They advised them to watch out for bees and for anything that looked like snot (the PCs thought this rather odd advice, but the entire conversation was odd). They also told them the mask-wearers all tended to be a little "crazy and touched."
Bidding the sprites farewell, the PCs checked several other doors. They discovered a room with a floor completely covered in greenish, snot-like slime. They quickly shut the door as the foul stuff rippled and started to ooze towards them. They also found a storage room full of rotting cloth, spoiled grain, and other ruined (and ancient-looking) foodstuffs. After wasting a great deal of time searching this last chamber, they decided to return to the secret room to tell the NPCs they knew where water was, and to maximize their strength before encountering the "brotherhood." The Fighter gave his shield to the wounded nomad, further cementing his good standing with them.
The reunited group proceeded south, out through the secret door and down the corridor. The discovered some stairs that descended to the next tier, but bypassed these, coming upon a dusty room that appeared to be an ancient bedroom/study. The body of a bestial-looking humanoid [hobgoblin] sprawled on the floor, here, one arm bloated and discolored. A search of the room turned up little: an empty (looted) chest, a carved wooden lightning bolt pendant [holy symbol of Gorm], and the body. The Elf heard a low humming or buzzing from the east door. When the PC's searched the body, they found a puncture wound in the arm, and guessed that the hobgoblin had perished from a giant bee sting. They also found a purse with some gold and silver coin, and a flask of water! The water was shared amongst all, with the greatest portion going to the wounded nomad. The PCs also carefully searched the furniture for hidden compartments, etc. They discovered a hidden drawer in the desk which held three clerical scrolls. [This is another treasure not in the module. Again, I wanted to reward and encourage the kind of descriptive searching and play they were engaging in. I also wanted to give them cleric a boost. I won't always be throwing treasure at them just because they search, but for now it suits a dual purpose of reinforcing this manner of play and helping them with some extra XP or resources. I like to move to 2nd level pretty quickly, and then slow things down once they aren't quite so fragile.]
[At this point I had to take a few minutes to review the Holmes rules on scrolls. I was a bit surprised to find that the magic item section only talked about magic-user scrolls, as if there were no cleric scrolls. I looked at the cleric spell section, where I found a statement saying that 2nd level cleric spells had been included for NPCs and scrolls, so that indicated that such scrolls were intended. I decided to fall back on OD&D for this, and looked it up, there. However, I found that a similar situation exists in the OD&D rules -- cleric scrolls are mentioned as existing (i.e. "25% chance..."), but not really described. I went with the B/X description, where cleric scrolls are written in common speech, needing no special skill or spell to read, but can only be cast by clerics. I also ruled that such scrolls took the form of special prayers, and are usually tied to a specific deity. This wouldn't technically prevent the use of such a scroll by the cleric of a different deity, but it might cause reluctance or a problem in certain circumstances. Since these were ancient scrolls, they were written in ancient common, and were addressed to the deity, Gorm.]
The cleric took a look at the scrolls and gleaned a few tidbits from them. They were prayers/miracles/spells of curing, light, and protection from evil. The content of the prayers indicated that Gorm was a generally good deity of war, justice, and storms or strength. The cleric decided not to attempt casting any spells from the scrolls until he had a chance to carefully review them.
Before opening the door and facing what they were pretty certain were giant bees, the PCs came up with an excellent plan. They knew the oil from the beetle/storage room was old and burned with a great deal of smoke. The Elf suggested hurling burning oil into the space, beyond, hopefully filling it with smoke and driving off or slowing down/stupifying the bees. The plan was quickly put into action.
The PCs opened the door, seeing a chamber containing a large cage with a hive inside and treasure all over the cage floor. Potted and flowering plants lined the walls [I added these], and a hole in the ceiling let in some light and air. Several large bees flew around, but didn't immediately attack. The PCs threw in their oil and set it aflame, causing great clouds of nasty smoke. The smoke quickly filled the room, although it was also being drawn off through the ceiling hole. The PCs waited for the smoke to clear some, then entered the chamber. A couple of bees crawled on the floor, and were dispatched. The remainder seemed to have flown out through the hole [there were still some in the hive].
The PCs scooped up the treasure and put in the previously empty chest from the bedchamber. While the others did this, the elf used her 10' pole to wedge some old cushions and cloth into the hole, lest the bees try to return. Once the treasure was secured, the group also discovered a water urn amongst the potted plants. This one was not empty, and they gave glad cries and began to drink.
All this commotion (and smoke smell) finally brought attention down on them, unfortunately. The door to the east flung open, and five men in chainmail, blue tunics, and identical golden masks stepped into the chamber. Giving angry shouts, they drew swords and charged the PCs. In the brutal melee that followed, the Fighter distinguished himself [rolling exceptionally well], dispatching his foes with a longsword in one hand and a shortsword in the other. Several in the party were wounded, but no one fell, and after a few rounds of combat only one masked attacker still stood. However, to their horror, the masked men were reinforced by another five, one of which was clearly a leader: he shouted orders and wore a fancier mask. Swords continued to flicker and thrust, and more blood flowed. A nomad went down to multiple thrusts. The cleric was felled by a sword pommel against the temple. But masked warriors fell as well, and the Fighter continued to shine. He killed two more enemies in as many rounds, hacking his way to the leader, who he engaged with a furious battle cry and a storm of flashing steel. Even the leader couldn't hold him off [he rolled a natural 20]; the Fighter knocked the man's guard aside with his longsword and sent a wicked thrust from his short blade straight at the leader's breast. Only the masked man's speed and skill saved him from death; he managed to twist so the blade gave him a heavy wound, but didn't pierce his heart. Seeing so few of his brothers remaining, and fearing his own end and the end of his brotherhood, the leader shouted out "Yield! Yield!" For a tense moment, the combatants paused, and then the surrender was accepted. The two living masked warriors and the leader all dropped their weapons.
A long period of excellent role-playing followed. At first, the masked men were angry, bitter, and hostile, accusing the PCs of murder and thievery. However, the PCs managed to convey their side of the story, and they noted the noble bearing and demeanor of the masked men. The Cha of the Fighter, his prowess, and the sincerity of the PCs were likewise noted by the masked leader [his helm of telepathy helped, too]. When the PCs denied being thieves and returned the treasure of Gorm, the tide turned. While still saddened and bitter over the loss of so many brothers, Kanadius, the leader, acknowledged that the whole situation was an unfortunate mistake and misunderstanding. However, he said the PCs may well have slain the best hope for the "salvation of Cynidicea," and that they owed him and the brotherhood for so many brave men slain. The PCs asked more about the brotherhood and Cynidicea, and Kanadius told them of the city far below, it's deluded and drugged people (his people!) who followed the dark god, and of his Brotherhood that rejected the dark ways and sought to bring a revival of the old ways, and of the worship of Gorm.
At this, the Elf asked if one of the three statues on the top of the pyramid was Gorm. Kanadius confirmed this. The Elf then asked about the other two statues. Was one of them the dark god? Or were they old gods, too? Kanadius told of the other two old Gods, and a little of the organizations that followed them. However, he explained that not all the old ways were the best way. The strength of Gorm was needed to cast off the yoke of the dark one, Zargon. The PCs apologized (again) for killing so many brothers. Kanadius, seeing their sincerity, and knowing how badly the brotherhood needed more members, offered to accept their apology, but asked that the Fighter and the nomads become Brothers of Gorm. He didn't ask this of the cleric, understanding he was already sworn to his own deity, and he didn't ask it of the Elf, who was, of course, a woman [this annoyed my wife]. He did offer to make them "Friends of Gorm," though. He reminded them that they owed him, and asked their aid in casting off the yoke of Zargon.
To make a long story short (too late), the PCs accepted and were taken through the initiation ritual. They were given food, water, new clothes, masks or pendants, and the nomads were given chainmail and helms.
We ended, there, and I awarded XP. I gave them full XP for the treasure they gave back, and also XP for finding water and good role-playing. It was a really fun session.