Mourning the loss of their companion but not wanting to give up on their mission, our party of brave (or just stupid) travelers followed their druid’s spell once again to a source of mushrooms. This time it led them right to the very tomb of Jarak, the cruel warlord for which they are named. Inside they found some mushrooms growing almost immediately, but another signature hinted at the presence of more relatively nearby. Upon following this, the party found themselves in a puzzling room with only a cryptic hint as to how to pass safely. After crossing the spear-trapped floor in knights moves from chess, the adventurers found themselves in another room. This one was occupied by the aspiring jack-of-all-trades adventurer who wrote the hints. He was found lying dead on the floor, but came back as a barrow wight due to the eldritch magics that pervaded the place. After dispatching this threat, they continued on a few baubles the richer. On the other side of the room they found their way into a malfunctioning magic portal which put them through two cursed hallways. One hall was long and narrow and covered with the moss and slime of neglect. The other corridor was short and wide and festooned with treasures befitting a king. After no major mishaps and only a few subtle curses, they found their way cautiously through to the other side, where they were met with a fearsome panorama. The room was large and cavernous, with a fairly narrow pathway across a deep chasm. This path proved to be guarded by the animate skeletons of warriors and mindless slaves from Jarak’s army. These were ultimately no match for the intrepid band of lunatics and their undead-turning, skeleton-shattering cleric. After raiding the place for several useful items, the party continued on through the rusty iron door and into a maze of confusing tunnels. After successfully identifying the dead end and managing not to fall into the pit, they found their way to the huge stone door that guarded the burial chamber. The adventurers faced a challenging puzzle at the door, but were provided with the answer from an unlikely source, the old bard’s tale of Jarak the Warlord as told by Anna, the girl from New Clerkenwell. Upon opening the door, the group found themselves in the rough-hewn and humid chamber in which Jarak was rumored to be buried. As they looked around, they were startled to find that the pool of water in the center was roiling and seething with a foul energy as the sarcophagus bearing Jarak’s mummified undead form rose forth from the water. This battle proved to be very tough, but eventually, the leathery pile of putrefaction was put violently and permanently to rest. Despite the many injuries and curses that the party had suffered, they emerged from this adventure all the richer and more experienced for having conquered the tomb.