[We ended session eight without a return to Gorm territory, but when we started session nine the players decided it would be better if they had returned after all (i.e. they wanted to have their spells, et cetera). Being a softie, I said sure...]
The party returned to the catacombs and decided to investigate the northern tunnel they had passed on their former exploration. The tunnel went about twenty or thirty feet north before opening into a 'T' intersection, with tunnels continuing both east and west, and a stout door on the north wall. The dust on the floor showed evidence of much movement through this area, but it didn't look like the door had been opened in some time. Judging this to be a promising place to explore, the group forced open the portal and shone their lights into the vaulted chamber, beyond.
A thick carpet of dust covered everything, and the air smelled stale. The party's light's barely reached into the shadowy corners of the place, but it was enough to immediately reveal that this was a long undisturbed crypt. The accouterments of a burial chamber sat in orderly arrangement around the walls, but all attention immediately riveted upon the figures near the west wall. Centered there, before a ancient banner, stood the mummified figure of a tall man, still wearing ancient panoply and bearing a baroque pole arm. Arrayed before this ominous figure stood a skeletal honor guard, holding swords in an eternal salute. Nothing stirred.
After a whispered consultation in the hall, the Cleric moved forward and entered the room at the head of the party, the holy symbol of Gorm displayed before him. As soon as the PCs entered, the skeletal guards began to move, eyeless sockets swiveling to stare at the intruders and swords moving into threatening positions. However, most of the undead were unable to stand before the Cleric, and their assault dissolved into confusion as they retreated before him; only two of the nine continued to advance.
Wielding the Cleric's mace instead of his slender blade, the Elf leapt forward to intercept the skeletons, Jason at his left side. The two made short work of the undead warriors, which collapsed into piles of broken bone. Their confidence bolstered from this success, the pair advanced against the other undead cowering in the corner. This proved to be more dangerous than they anticipated: the skeletons there were staying as far from the cleric as they could, but immediately attacked the heroes when they came within reach. Swords flashed and blood began to flow, even as skeletal warriors dropped. Seeing their comrades outnumbered and in danger, the rest of the party surged forward as well, and the chaos of a general melee swirled about the chamber. Draco suffered a heavy wound, but no one fell, and bones knit together with sorcery proved no match for cold steel powered by flesh and blood.
Other than Draco, the other wounds amounted to little more than cuts and bruises, so the Cleric prayed over the grimacing warrior as the rest of the group made a thorough examination of the chamber. The mummy holding the pole-arm (a halberd of ancient and ornate workmanship) remained unmoving, even when relieved of his weapon, so the PCs felt confident he was not dangerous. The many grave goods proved to be mundane, but informative, as they revealed this to be the burial chamber of Prokoros, Captain of King Alexander's royal guard. The group recovered [shamelessly stole] the panoply of Prokoros for use in their fight against Zargon. The armor proved a fair fit for Draco. Jason considered the halberd, but decided against it. That weapon, too, went to Draco, who now cut an imposing figure. [The players are laying it on thick with this concept of securing artifacts to aid in the fight against Zargon. I suggested the idea to begin with, so I have only myself to blame. It's pretty amusing, in any case. Draco is pleased with his armor and halberd, and the status that it confers upon him. He's already growing into Jason's "right hand man" in the eyes of the Brothes.] After praying and offering blessings over the body of Prokoros and the the fallen guards (hopefully now at quiet rest), the group resumed their exploration of the catacombs.
Examining the east and west branches of the passage, the PCs decided to go east. Not far down the east tunnel, a northern passage pierced the wall. The passage also continued east from the point. The north passage showed evidence of light or infrequent foot traffic, while the dust to the east showed traffic close to the walls, which the PCs took to be evidence of animals or scavengers. The group chose to go north. After six or seven paces (using the Roman-style two step pace of around five feet) this tunnel also turned to the east, and continued as far as light would reach. The group crept down the tunnel, which stretched on for a good distance before turning south. Eventually, this south-running tunnel ended in another stout-looking door, very similar to the one that opened on the crypt of Prokoros. However, this door also bore an inscription in ancient Cynidicean. Draco read it aloud: "Lady Iole, My Love For Her Burns Forever." The door proved impossible to open, despite repeated attempts by multiple strong men, leading the Elf to suspect some magical ward or seal upon it. The group decided to explore elsewhere until the Elf could prepare some sorcery that might gain them passage.
Retracing their steps, the party returned to the intersection and cautiously went east, examining and following the "animal trail" in the dust. The trail led them directly to a door which pierced the south wall of the passage. Beyond the door, the tunnel continued for a few paces before turning south, but the PCs' attention was immediately drawn to the hole that appeared to have been chewed in the door, near the floor. It was half a cubit in diameter and worn smooth around the edges. No sound came from within, but a foul smell wafted out. Readying themselves, the group forced the door.
The chamber this revealed was smaller than most of the rooms in the catacombs: perhaps half the size. Its original purpose was unclear, but it was clearly now serving as an animal lair of some sort. The place was a mess, and smelled revolting. From a great mound of refuse in the corner came some skittering and rustling noises, and torchlight reflected off the beady eyes of the creatures hiding within it. "Fah! Nasty vermin!" exclaimed the Elf in disgust. Taking a spear from Fuad, Jason advanced with Draco at his side and began probing and pulling apart the mound. This provoked an attack by the giant rats which nested within, but the group was ready for that, and the rats offered little danger to the heavily armored fighters in the front. After several of their number had been hacked, impaled, or crushed, the remaining rats fled in a squeaking stream through some concealed hole in the west wall. Beady eyes continued to watch from the relative safety of this small hole while the players dismantled the mound and killed the infant rats within. Amidst the clutter and refuse, the players discovered several gems and numerous ancient coins collected by the rats. Pleased with this discovery, but befouled and tired after their efforts, the group decided to return to Gorm headquarters.