# On The Dragon-War and its Aftermath (Updated 6/22: S4-1 "In The Forest Of The Night")



## Zurai (Jun 3, 2007)

*Session 0: Characters and Background*

Since this game is in a homebrew campaign world, I think it might be a good idea to give at least a rudimentary overview of the world and characters before I start the actual story. If you’re not interested in the history lesson, go ahead and skip to Session 1 (the next post).

The Basics
The campaign world is human-dominated; other races exist, but they’re very rare. Even most monstrous humanoids are nonexistant or simply variations on humans (goblins are small humans, ogres are big humans, etc). There are elves and dwarves, but no one has seen them since the Emergence (see below). The only other races encountered so far in the campaign so far are Warforged (called Gateborn; they are apparantly being created by the Gates for an unknown purpose) and Tieflings (Demonlings/Corrupted; they are the results of demons trying to invade the world again 25 years in the past; there’ll be more on them later).
Similarly, planar travel is extremely restricted. The only known way to travel between planes is to use the Gates – a network of portals that connect to each other across space and (sometimes) planes. There are many Gates, but very few currently alive know how to use them.

The World As We Know It
Over 1,500 years before the present day, the world was invaded and overrun by Demons. Very little is known about this period except that a majority of the population of the world moved into secure (and Gateless) underground fortresses to escape the Demons. The people spent about 1,000 years holed up in their fortresses, not knowing what was going on at the surface and not daring to unseal the entrances to find out. Finally, the fortresses began to open up, one by one, and their populations emerged once more into the sunlight. Of the Demons, there was no sign.

Our Homeland
The fortress that the campaign begins centered on Emerged about 500 years in the past. Expeditions sent to the nearest two fortresses (one to the north, one to the south) found disturbing results: The southern fortress, Ompan, was completely empty with no sign of its inhabitants anywhere, while the northern fortress had apparantly been overcome by a Dragon when it opened and its inhabitants were scattered over the steppes as barbarians in the Dragon’s thrall.
Over the 500 years since the Emergence until the present day, the people of our fortress spread out very slowly into the surrounding lands, setting up a basic feudal society in the hands of around a dozen Lords subservient to the King. Part of the population, however, split off into a seperate country; their religion was radically different from the state-sponsored religion of our land and they saw this as an opportunity.
The only people that have been found so far, besides the barbarians and the blood-worshippers, are a few scatterings of druids (who stayed in the world above during the Demonic invasion) and a few settlements across the sea, which have not banded together into any kind of kingdom or country.

Our Heroes
*Aden Caulfield:* Scion of House Caulfield, one of the ruling houses. Rakish and arrogant, his motivations are simple – “what works best for _me_?”.
*Bronn Crestfallen:* Scion of House Crestfallen, another ruling house. Bronn has very little else in common with Aden, however; he cares more for his books and pets than he does for himself.
*Owen Angusson:* Demonling son of one of the few Uncorrupted Demonlings following the Richfort incident. A peasant by birth, he is ambitious but driven to become a force for good, to make up for the Corrupted. Note: the story will be told from Owen’s perspective.
*V:* A Gateborn warrior. Even he doesn’t know his purpose.
*Anna’rolla Forn:* The 12 year old Princess of the House Forn, the royal line. Stunningly beatiful and with a captivating voice, Anna’rolla struggles to come to terms with the events she’s been swept up in.

House Rules
The only notable house rule so far is that, for skill checks and stat checks, a natural 20 counts as +30, while a natural 1 counts as -10. This is intended to make more heroic actions possible (though very rare). This becomes relevant in session 6.


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## Zurai (Jun 3, 2007)

*Session 1: A Fate-Filled Meeting*

*Session 1: A Fate-Filled Meeting*

_Why did I ever agree to come here? I don’t belong in this room._

And yet, there I was, sitting at the retainer’s table in the Throne Room, summoned by the King to attend his Council of War.

_He only invited me because of Father. He’s hoping that I’ll step forward into his shoes. Not likely. The military isn’t for me._.

I glanced around the room for what must be the tenth time since I arrived with Aden a half hour ago. Representatives from each noble house gossiping with each other, wineglasses in hand. The Prince and Princess, seated at one end of the long table and talking quietly to each other. My eyes lingered on the Princess; her long, fiery red hair was arranged in an intricate braid and her dark green eyes gleamed with intelligence. 

_It’s too bad she’s so young and so far out of my league._

Resuming my sweep of the room... The biggest Gateborn I have ever seen, and ever hope to see, crouched on the raised dais on which rests the palace’s three Gates. And a constant stream of serving girls in Lord Thorncrest’s colors bearing glasses and plates in and out of the room. No King yet, and the Queen probably wouldn’t even make an appearance.
With a sigh, I looked for Aden, the one person in this room I had any connection to, no matter how faint. Aden was Lord Caulfield’s only son, and Lord Caulfield was my lord. Aden and I were almost the same age – he was born two weeks before I was. Of course, he was born pure, and of noble house, while deep inside me an unclean presence twisted itself around my soul.

_*...resennnnttt...annnngerrr...desstrooooyyyy...*_

And right on cue, Korinthos added his commentary. My inner Demon – quite literally – had been with me since before I was even born. Twenty-five years ago, the Gate at Richfort had suddenly burst open and everyone within fifty miles of the gate had been permanently changed. The Demons had attempted to invade the world again, sending their masses through the Richfort Gate. Only this time, something interfered. No one knows who or what, exactly, went wrong; my personal theory is that the Tardif, God of the Gates, had put his foot down on the interlopers. Instead of passing bodily through the Gate, the Demons had instead been ejected into the bodies of the nearest humans, their souls fusing together.
Only the Demonlings, as we have come to be called, know the truth of the matter. Everyone else just thinks it was some magical discharge or some other side effect of the Gate’s opening that did it to us. Regardless, the effects were obvious: every Demonling showed visible traits of the corruption of our souls. My eyes were solid, featureless, blood red, and a pair of small horns adorned my forehead. Others bear different traits, although horns are very common. No one who ever gazed upon us had any doubt that we are children of Richfort.

_*....resENNNNTTTTTTTTT...*_
_Enough of that!_

With a mental effort, I silenced Korinthos and banished him from my thoughts. The present circumstances must be unsettling me more than I’d realized for him to slip past my guard twice in so short a time.

Would that most of the rest of the people of Richfort were able to silence their Demons so effectively. In truth, they succumbed almost to the man. Only my family and a half dozen others of the hundreds of people within the Area of Change remained Uncorrupted after the first two or three days. By the time I was born, two weeks after the Gate had opened, Richfort was a ghost town and the army of Corrupted had marched on the nearby territories, razing, looting, raping, and pillaging as they went. As soon as I was born, my father Angus Gormsson rejoined the Army and lead the effort to wipe out the Corrupted. He was more successful than he feared, but less so than he hoped; the main force of Corrupted was shattered, but they were not wiped out. They retreated to the West Woods and set up an enclave there, resisting periodic attempts by the Kingdom to dislodge them.

_Bah, I’m growing morbid now. Where *is* Aden, anyway? Ah, there he is. Talking to a woman, of course. Though judging by her expression, he’s turning her down. That’s a surprise._

A soft susurrus of sound caught my attention and I followed the eyes of the gathered nobles. The Gateborn that had been introduced to me as “V” – a member of Bronn Crestfallen’s entourage – had approached the dais and appeared to be speaking to the massive Gateborn crouched there. What little I could catch of their words meant nothing to me; I doubted it would even be possible for me to speak their language. After a few moments of conversation, V turned to Brom and said a few short sentences in Common before returning to the retainers’ table; I only caught snippets.

“...name is Spike...purpose...guard the Gates”

Just then, a short fanfare of trumpets began, and the King entered the throne room at last. With a great clattering of chairs on stone, everyone rose and bowed to the King, only seating themselves after he had taken his place at the head of the table, his back to Spike and the Gates.

“Friends, Lords, and countrymen, you are gathered here to meet with me in a Council of War. The Dragon Adamardith has apparantly grown tired of making demands of us and now has marched his barbarian horde into our territory. Lord Thorncrest’s lands are almost entirely lost to us now, and Lord Caulfield has been sorely pressed. We must decide on a plan of action, and decide quickly.”

A dozen plans were presented from a dozen mouths – surrender, retreat, floating the navy up the Water Braid, and on and on – and the politics had begun in earnest, when suddenly with the wailing screech of metal on metal, Spike reared up onto his feet and whirled to face the Gates. The room was shocked into silence as one of the Gates began to whirl, sigils around the rim glowing, and the room was filled with an eerie green light.

The first barbarian to leap from the Gate was met in mid-air by a blow from Spike’s massive arm that sent a loud CRUNCH reverberating throughout the room and sent the barbarian flying into one of the walls, twenty feet away. Someone screamed; either the Princess or one of the serving girls. Then, there was no time for thought.

Dozens of barbarians flooded through the Gate, more than even Spike’s sweeping strikes could handle as they ignored him and ran into the midst of the gathered nobles. Lord Thorncrest’s serving girls had all drawn knives and were setting on the nobles alongside the barbarians – a snarl of “Traitor!” from the Prince notwithstanding.

“To the King!” yelled Aden, but he was brought up short by the Prince.
“Aden, Owen, Bronn, V, to me!”

I had already uncoiled the chain from around my shoulders at the first sign of trouble; now it was set in whirling motion as I backed towards the Prince and joined the others.

“We must get out of here. Follow me. NOW!”

His voice allowed no dissention and the six of us – nobles, peasant, Gateborn, Prince, and Princess – fled the room. As we passed windows in the halls, we could hear war horns and see smoke rising from the city. We ran through the twisting passages, sending any guards we found back to the throne room, until at last we came to a small dead end room.
The Prince knelt on the floor, running his hands over the stone blocks, then pressed solidly on one stone. With a barely audible ‘click’ it raised up out of the floor and the Prince pushed it aside, revealing a ladder descending into darkness. He practically pushed us down the ladder in his haste.

At the bottom was another small room containing nothing but a chest and a door. The Prince turned to us, handing us a torch.

“Within this chest are the magical items the Dragon has demanded from the kingdom. He must not get them. I charge you four to take these items and escort my sister to the fortress of Ompan. There we have been training a secret army to resist the Dragon. We had hoped to have more time, but it is the only safe place to take the artifacts.”

“What about you? Come with us! You can’t do anything to help here!” cried Aden.

“No. My duty is to the Kingdom. Save my sister. Take the items. Through this door is the royal catacombs; there is a secret exit from there to outside the city. Now GO!” and he wrenched the door open, pushed us all through, and closed it. The click of the door locking behind us was eerie in the flickering torchlight.

We looked at each other, then the sobbing Princess. There was little choice. Onward and forward it was.

Quickly sorting ourselves into a marching order with the Princess and young Brom in the middle, with Aden and I at the head and tail of the line, we started cautiously down the long corridor we were in. Just as we reached the (locked, of course) door at the end of the corridor, we heard pounding on the door behind us, as if someone were smashing it with some sort of weapon. The Princess’s sobbing grew even louder and with a curse, Aden leaned down and began to pick at the lock on the door.

Another loud crash sounded and the door into the catacombs shattered, revealing two bloody barbarians in furs, carrying torches and axes. The Princess shrieked, bu even through the noises she was making I could hear an unusual sound – someone was chanting the words to a spell!

I whipped my head around just in time to watch a shimmering streak of energy burst from Bronn’s hand toward one of the barbarians. A loud grunt and the sound of a body hitting the floor told of his magic’s effectiveness as I turned again to face the remaining warrior, my chain spinning in a tight arc in front of me. The barbarian charged straight at me. Unwise of him. My chain darted out almost without concious thought on my part, entangling his feet and sending him sprawling to the ground a good six feet from me. With a snap of my wrist I pulled the chain back then sent the other end slamming down onto his head. He jerked, then lay still.

By now Aden had the door open, revealing an intersection leading to our left and right. We veered left, into another locked door. With a mutter to himself, Aden set about unlocking this one, just as another pair of barbarians charged into the corridor behind us. These were dealt with almost exactly as the last pair were. The first one to come around the bend was greeted with another bolt of force from Bronn, while my chain tangled around the other’s neck, snapping it.

Again Aden opened the door, this time into a room filled with urns lining the walls. After a brief search of the room, we advanced to yet another locked door and were beset by another wave of barbarians from behind. This time V stepped forward, one of his hands twisting to the side, revealing a humming violet blade of energy. His other hand held a plain longsword. He neatly eviscerated the first barbarian to come within range, but the second dealt him a nasty blow across his abdomen before falling to that strange humming blade.
By now I could tell that the enemy wasn’t going to stop coming. I told the rest of the group to go on forward. I had a trick up my sleeve and would stay behind to guard their backs. They ran forward into another intersection; I steeled myself mentally for the touch of corruption.

_*...KILLLLLLL....SLAAAYYYY!*_

Gritting my teeth at Korinthos’s goading, I wrested some of his power from him and a magical darkness filled the room, darkness which no torch could penetrate. I backed out of the room until I was just beyond the range of the darkness, waiting for the enemy to come. And come they did.

Two barbarians charged at me through the darkness, even though they could barely make out my softly glowing eyes in the torchless gloom. My chain answered them, sending the first sprawling to the ground, though he managed to roll aside from my follow-up strike.
With two targets in range of my attack, I dove once more into Korinthos’s powers.

_*....YESSSS...KILLL....BLOOOODDD...DRINK THEIR BLOOD!*_

Mentally I gathered myself, then lashed out simultaneously with both ends of my chain, whirling my body to add momentum as both ends slammed into their targets. Korinthos howled with glee. Still more came. I dropped the first as he stumbled into my range, but another charged right past and swung his axe wildly into the utter darkness in front of him; fortunately, I was in complete darkness and his vision was not sufficient to locate me. His blows went wide. Mine did not.

My companions had gone to the right at the intersection, but now they were running back.
“That way’s a dead end! Quickly, we don’t have much time!” Aden called as he passed.
I remained at my corner, slaying another trio of barbarians, buying time until the rest of my companions had passed, then slipped into the darkness and fled to the left.

I didn’t even notice until after he was laying in a pool of his own blood that the next barbarian I killed hadn’t even been armed, aside from a torch; his right arm had already been severed at the elbow. Was I losing myself to the Corruption?

Fortunately, that was the last barbarian I had to slay for the moment. Through two more rooms we fled, then into a small chamber built around a solid stone throne. As the Princess passed into the room, a skeletal figure in ancient armor, wielding a greatsword in one hand, rose from the throne and turned to face us.

“My Lady.” its voice whispered from beyond the grave, sending chills down my spine. “I am at your service.”
“Protect us!” shouted Aden. “Protect the Princess!”
“No defiler will pass.” returned the guardian spirit as it strode forward, blocking the entrance to the room.

We took it at its word and fled from the room through the door opposite the way we came in. We heard the sounds of fighting from behind us, but the sounds never seemed to pass into the room or corridor. We ran and ran until none of us could run any more, lungs burning with exhaustion, then walked and stumbled our way further. We traveled that one corridor for hours – I don’t know exactly how long, but we must have walked at least twenty miles – until at last we could see natural light from ahead. We had finally escaped the capital into the countryside.


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## Zurai (Jun 3, 2007)

This campaign runs every Wednsday; I'll try to update Thursday or Friday, but it may slip into the weekends. The first four sessions have already been run, so I have a bit of a buffer before I get to the current situation.

If anyone has any questions or comments, I'm happy to answer.


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## Arkhandus (Jun 3, 2007)

Interesting start.

And I like the handling of the first-person perspective so far.


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## Zurai (Jun 3, 2007)

I was worried about the first-person perspective myself, to be honest. I would have written it in omniscient, but the group is roleplaying really well and I simply don't know enough about everyone's secrets and motivations to pull it off. Hell, I even managed to keep any of the other player characters from seeing Owen use any manuevers (he's a Warblade//Ranger) until the third session, and they've only _seen_ him use Sapphire Nightmare Blade and Mountain Hammer so far.


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## Arkhandus (Jun 4, 2007)

Cool.    The Book of Nine Swords is awesome in written form.  And the sneakiness of the tiefling is neatly executed.


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## Zurai (Jun 9, 2007)

Session 2 teaser (Session 2 should be up later today):

*We enter an abandoned town near the tunnel's exit, and are greeted by some enemy scouts.
*We stumble across a wounded Kingdom soldier near another town, which leads the party to split up temporarily.
*Bronn acquires a donkey.
*We are betrayed by one of our own number.


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## Zurai (Jun 10, 2007)

*Session 2: A Journey Begins*

We walked along that dusty tunnel for hours on end. No one talked, and even the Princess had stopped her constant sobbing. I was in the lead, since I was the only one that could see in the dark; the others followed far enough behind me that I was at the edge of the light shed by the torch in Brom’s hand. The situation suited me fine. It gave me the time and lack of distractions I needed to wrestle Korinthos back into the depths of my mind, and allowed me to digest what had happened to us.

Eventually I came to the conclusion that opportunity was knocking on my door, and that I would be a fool to not answer. The kingdom was now essentially leaderless; the King was almost certainly dead, and the Prince and Queen would likely be captured and forced to act as puppets at the best. That left the 12 year old Princess in our company as the only remaining free person of royal blood; the heir to the throne, once we had freed it from the Dragon’s grip.

In the past, I had been a wild thing, uncaring about laws and rules and regulations, though not unaware of them. I was a peasant; I had very little rights under the current set of laws. I was essentially the property of the noble whose lands I lived in and was expected to do everything for said noble, even though they rarely gave back to the people they ruled.

_Ashes take that!_ I thought, and lived in the wild. No noble could command me if I didn’t live on their land. It was only when I heard that my father had died that I returned to “civilized” lands, and I was greeted at his grave by Aden Caulfield and told that I had been invited to a council of war by the King himself. I almost turned him down, but I was glad that I had not; I had a chance to change things now.

It was clear to me: I would become Anna’rolla’s guardian, mentor, confidant, and friend. I would teach her and guide her and make her into an enlightened ruler, one who would act against the injustices of the current system. It was as if a golden essence suffused my inner being; I knew without a doubt that this would be my life’s work. That my charge was beautiful, charming, and by all accounts quite intelligent was a bonus, not that I even considered her a potential lover – she was too young and quite above my station, and I would make a very bad King anyway.

Eventually we saw red-gold light ahead and emerged from the tunnel into a brilliant sunset. We sat and rested for a few minutes, relieved to be back aboveground. From where we sat, we could see smoke from the capital on the horizon, and a small town nestled in the hills to our south. Aden and I briefly discussed our situation and decided to head towards the town and try to procure food, water, some less conspicuous clothes, and if possible, mounts. As we roused everyone and got started towards the town, Bronn suddenly perked up, looked over his shoulder, and ran off with a cry of “Jack!”

Looking in the direction he was running, I spotted the statuesque form of a large timber wolf silhouetted against the almost-vanished sun. Brom ran up to it and wrapped his arms around the wolf’s neck, and the wolf appeared to lick him in response. The pair trotted back to the rest of us, and Bronn informed us that Jack (the wolf, apparantly) was his friend and would be accompanying us, but not to worry, he wouldn’t hurt any of us and was quite capable of catching his own food. Aden and I looked at each other, but there didn’t seem to be much to say, so we just shrugged and set off towards the village.

By the time we got there, it was well after dark, and the Princess was starting to complain that she couldn’t see where she was going. The town itself appeared to be deserted; there was no smoke coming from any of the chimneys and no lights in any window. The streets showed signs of hasty departure, and the buildings we checked were mostly bare of anything useful. After a quick discussion among the party, it was decided that V and Brom would stay in a house guarding the Princess while Aden and I scoured the town for supplies.

It took us about an hour of searching, but Aden and I managed to come up with a week and a half worth of food (mostly beans and corn, but there was some salted ham), a stash of pepper, three waterskins, a pound of tea leaves, some flour, enough blankets for the whole party, some padded armor, a copper pot, a quiver full of arrows, and a shortbow with no string. When we came back, Bronn informed us that V had opened the chest containing the artifacts we were tasked to bring to Ompan: it contained a scimitar and a bowl cradling what appeared to be a pine cone. Bronn quickly shut the chest again and asked V not to touch anything inside; V appeared nonplussed, but agreed to leave the chest alone for now. We told the others what we had found and decided to settle down for the night. The following morning we would gather what supplies we could and set off for Ompan.

Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. Before anyone was able to get to sleep, I heard a noise outside on the street. I got everyone’s attention and gestured for silence, then slowly opened the door and stepped outside, looking around for the source of the noise. The source was obvious – as was my mistake in stepping outside. Two men wrapped in furs and holding loaded bows were walking boldly down the street; we saw each other at the same time, and before I had the chance to duck back inside, I sprouted an arrow from my chest and neck.

Badly wounded, I stumbled back inside and closed the door. “Dragon’s scouts, two of them! Someone heal me please?” V quickly stepped up and laid his hands upon me, sending a violet pulse of energy into my body that sealed up the wound in my neck, forcing the arrow out. The rest of the group spread out around the Princess, staying inside the house we were in. Anna’rolla, though, had other ideas. She darted to a window and stuck her head outside, yelling “Stand down in the name of the Princess!”.

“Ashes to the _wind_!” I cursed and dove for the window the Princess was at, pulling her back inside and closing the shutter just an instant before another pair of arrows _thud_ded into place where her head had been*. That was enough to spur the others into action; Aden jumped out the window opposite the one I just closed, and Bronn and Jack climbed out the window in the back of the house. V cautiously opened the front door and stuck his head out, using the door as cover. 

The enemy scouts split up, one going around behind the house and firing at Bronn, while the other loosed an arrow that just managed to miss V.

The Gateborn warrior responded by flinging the door all the way open and charging forward, the strange purple light-blade appearing from his hand as he went. With a wordless cry, he crashed into the surprised archer and slid his blade deep into the man’s guts, then pulled it out as his foe crumpled to the ground at his feet.

Bronn, meanwhile, tumbled back into the house from the window he had just left, panting with exertion and bleeding from a deep arrow wound; the Princess rushed over and tried to bandage the wound as best she could. I followed V out the door and around the side of the house towards where the other Sword Grass barbarian must have gone. We both sighted our target and rushed him simultaneously; V hit him low, while my chain wrapped around the unfortunate man’s neck and, with a snap of my wrist, his head was pulled one way while his body went the other from V’s impact. The effect was immediate death as his neck (and spine) snapped**.

We searched around for more attackers, but determined that these two were alone. Still, it was obvious we weren’t safe here, and to the Princess’s extreme dissatisfaction we packed up what supplies we could and left town, eventually settling into a moderately defensible condition and setting up camp for the night a couple hours later. The remainder of the night, and the next day and night, passed uneventfully.

The day after that, however, brought us to a series of corn fields near another village. We took stock of our supplies and decided that it would be best for us to avoid this village altogether, as we still had at least a week’s worth of food, and even if that ran out I was confident that I could supply us with enough to eat, though it would slow us down while I hunted. However, Fate ended up conspiring against us, for as we were leaving the corn fields we stumbled upon the unconcious form of a soldier wearing the Kingdom’s colors.

We felt duty-bound to heal and awaken the man – especially with the Princess looking on – and after getting some water into him, he filled us in on some of the events that had happened since we escaped the capital. Apparantly, the King was dead and the Prince had surrendered the city to Adamardith (Anna’rolla looked stricken and turned away, crying softly), but not before he ordered the remainder of the Army to go out into the surrounding lands, get the villagers to flee, and burn all the crops in the field. This soldier was in a squad burning crops at this village when they stumbled upon a unit of barbarians and were savagely attacked. The soldier, whose name we never did ask, said that he had dropped his torch and run away when he saw his commander cut down, but was struck by an arrow as he fled.

After a short discussion, we decided to have Bronn escort the soldier into town (the town was in the process of evacuating) while the rest of us went around the long way. Brom also negotiated for the soldier’s scale mail shirt; apparantly my companions decided I needed armor. Regardless, they went off down the trail towards town while the rest of us swung wide, staying out of sight of the town as best as possible. When Bronn met back up with us a couple hours later, he was leading a donkey by the reins.

“I met this guy in the tavern with the biggest sword I’ve ever seen. He said he just sharpened swords, but man that was a big sword***. Anyway, he said he wasn’t gonna leave the tavern, and this donkey was outside, so I asked him if the donkey was his and whether he’d sell it. He wouldn’t sell, but he asked me if I wanted to play stones**** with the donkey going to the winner. I won, obviously, so now we have a donkey!”

He also related some of the rumors going around among the people evacuating the town. They repeated what the soldier had told us, as well as mentioning that the Princess was thought to be dead but no one knew where the Queen was. We stopped briefly to shift most of our loads onto the donkey, then set off again towards Ompan.

That night, we again camped in a secluded glen and set up a watch. I took first watch, while Aden was set to take second. V, not needing sleep, would assist both of us. My watch passed uneventfully, but about an hour after I went to sleep, I was awakened by the very faint sound of metal on metal and the annoyed snorting of the donkey. Opening my eyes, I saw Aden attaching the chest containing the magical artifacts to the donkey and securing its harness for travel; V was nowhere to be seen.

“What are you doing, Aden?” I said, standing up slowly, not wanting to wake the others.

His head whipped around and he grimaced. “I’m taking these and going to my father. He can make more use of them than we can.”

“The Prince told us to take them to Ompan, Aden.”

“Damn the Prince for a traitor! He surrendered to the Dragon, that means he’s a traitor and has no authority over me. My father at least is willing to fight!”

I sighed and loosened my chain, wishing that I could sleep in my armor. “Please don’t make me fight you, Aden. Just stop this and come with us to Ompan and I won’t tell anyone that you tried to betray us.”

Aden just growled, jerked out his shortsword, and rushed at me. I met him with my chain, wrapping it around his feet and spilling him onto his knees. On the return stroke, I smashed the side of his head with a non-spiked section of the chain. Aden spit out a curse and jumped to his feet, neatly sidestepping my answering strike with my chain, and stepped forward again.

Behind us, Bronn and the Princess were stirring from the sounds of combat, and V had heard Aden’s curse from the perimeter of the camp, where Aden had convinced him to patrol, and come charging back in. The Princess sat up, saw her guardians engaged in combat with each other, and fled screaming.

“The Demonling was trying to run off with the artifacts!” Aden called out, but no one seemed to believe him. I pulled his feet out from under him again then set out after the Princess, calling over my shoulder “Don’t kill him, damnit!”

V, Bronn, and Jack surrounded Aden, keeping him off balance and eventually subdued him (though V lost his patience with nonlethal strikes and cut him badly across the chest with his longsword), and I managed to catch up with and calm down the Princess.

When the two of us returned to the camp, Aden was unconcious and tied to a tree, stripped of his armor and weapons. I told my companions what had happened, and we decided to leave him a small amount of food and water, but to otherwise abandon him here. I wasn’t particularly happy with the situation – Aden was the one person in this group I had known before coming to the capital – but it would be impossible to trust him with either the artifacts or the Princess’s safety after this. Bronn wanted to kill him, but I would have none of it. For all his faults, Aden was doing what he thought was best for the country.

In the morning, we clubbed Aden into unconciousness again, then untied him and left, our hearts heavy.*****


* - The Princess was an NPC under the control of the DM at this point, and I was extremely thankful that I had held my action the round before; 2 Skirmish Attack arrows could have easily killed the Princess outright (4d6+2 damage vs 8 hp).
** - Actually, V hit the guy first, dropping him to 1 hp, and I hit for max damage (16, counting Favored Enemy bonus) on the next action, for the first true -10 hp death of the campaign.
*** - According to the DM, this was, indeed, just a Commoner 3 with a Large greatsword.
**** - Chinese Checkers, actually played at the table.
***** - Aden’s player suddenly moved to Seattle, where his family lived. He left his character sheet with the DM, who decided to have him betray us, and who played him as an NPC all night. Until his betrayal, all I knew was that Aden’s player wasn’t able to make it to the session that night. Our decision to not kill Aden will likely result in him being a recurring NPC.


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## Zurai (Jun 10, 2007)

Session 3 teaser (Hopefully up tomorrow):

* Rain forces us to take shelter in an abandoned cottage ...
* ... that turns out not to be abandoned at all.
* We fight more of the Dragon's men, as well as a dragonkin, picking up some allies in the process.
* One of the original party members is literally sliced in two.


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## harrydunn (Jun 13, 2007)

i like it.  it makes me want to write one from bronn's perspective, but that would probably just be a lot of "wow that's interesting i can't believe i never thought to use the verbal components from........ ow what is going on around here.  where did that barbarian come from?  magic missle.  i lost my page i hate it when that happens."


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## Zurai (Jun 16, 2007)

Sorry for the week long delay getting this out to everyone. Part 2 will follow shortly.

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*Session 3 Part 1: On and On the Rain Will Fall...*

Few words were spoken that day as we continued our journey to Ompan; for myself, I only spoke to take over the archery training that Aden had been giving the Princess. Bows aren’t my preferred weapons – it is hard for me to focus on distant moving objects well enough to hit them with an arrow – but I am proficient in their use. She was a fast learner and was able to hit targets at reasonable paces with reasonable speed by the end of the day.

As afternoon turned to evening, the clouds turned to black and heavy rain began to fall. Not wanting to camp for the night out in the pouring rain, I scouted ahead of the party and, after an hour or so of searching, managed to find a small cottage that appeared to be abandoned. There were some chickens in a pen nearby that had gone feral, which Bronn quickly added to his growing menagerie.

The interior of the cottage was sparse – it appeared to be a simple peasant’s cottage. One bed rested at one end of the room, there was a simple fireplace near the bed, a cupboard and a table on the opposite wall, and a threadbare rug stretched out in the center of the single room. The Princess immediately claimed the bed, to no one’s surprise. V, as usual for him, offered to stand watch all night; sleep was irrelevant for him. Since I didn’t particularly want to stay up all night sharing his watch, and no one – himself included – trusted Bronn to spare enough attention from his books to actually keep a watch, V ended up as our only sentinel.

I drifted off to sleep fairly quickly, but was startled awake a short time later as a faint humming sound spread throughout the room. The Princess was awake as well, and V was already moving to shake Bronn awake – the boy was probably reading a book in his dreams, judging by his expression when he woke up. Together we did a quick search of the room, turning up nothing. None of us could pinpoint the source of the noise, and within half a minute we had decided the best course of action would be to exit the cottage as a group and try to see if the sound was coming from outside.

No sooner did we step out of the door, however, than the interior of the cottage began to fill with an eerie green light, seemingly seeping through the cracks in the floorboards. V immediately turned and ran back into the structure, looking around for a few seconds then, with an exclamation of triumph, yanked back the rug to reveal a trap door. He called out “There’s a trap door here!” then opened it up and clambered down the stairs it revealed before anyone else had a chance to react.

“Keep an eye on the Princess!” I called to Bronn – not my sanest moment, in retrospect – and followed V into the underground passage. The humming sound was growing louder by the second now, and the light flashed to nearly white for a brief moment as I neared a corner in the tunnel. As I rounded the corner, a completely unexpected sight greeted me: here, in this chamber underneath a house in the middle of absolutely nowhere, was Gate. Not just a Gate, but an *active* Gate, with a battle already in progress at its foot. Two large men in heavy armor bearing the crest of the Dragon, wielding a greataxe and a falchion, were locked in combat with a group of six men; four wielding glaives, one with a shortsword and a small dagger-like weapon unfamiliar to me, and one with a longsword.

Even as I ran forward to engage the Dragon’s men, the longswordsman was injured badly, his left leg nearly severed above the knee by a brutal strike from the greataxe. When he fell, the four glaive-wielders cried out “Master!” and moved to guard him. I got in range just in time to deflect an attack that would have slain the ‘Master’, then struck out offensively, lashing my chain across the large man’s more lightly armored thighs.

 “Mathis! Fall back for now!” the man with the greataxe called to the other – but his words were not heeded. Mathis snarled and struck out with his falchion, neatly eviscerating one of ‘Master’s’ defenders. The leader of the attackers then turned and tried to dive back through the still-active Gate, but left himself open to attack by doing so; it was a fatal mistake, as I dropped him to his knees with a mighty swing to the back of his legs and the skinny swordsman plunged his shortsword into the visor of the leader’s helmet. He dropped with a clatter of steel on stone, inches from the Gate. Mathis gave a strangled cry of rage, breaking off combat to pull his commander through the Gate – which remained open but opaque behind them.

The immediate threats gone, I turned around only to find the Princess already kneeling over the ‘Master’s’ body, tending to his leg wound and stopping the bleeding that had already stained the marble floor scarlet. I gave Bronn a glare for bringing her downstairs, but spared him no words for risking her life needlessly. I was curious about what exactly we had stumbled upon – the room we were in was a stark contrast to the cottage above. The floor and walls were fine marble, several comfortable beds lined the wall opposite the Gate, and in one corner of the room was what appeared to be a small forge with an unfinished, ornate sword blade glowing a dim red on the anvil.

There was no time for talk, however – the Gate was still open, which meant there was still an active threat here. I helped the Master’s apprentices bring him upstairs and out of the cottage, making sure the Princess followed me closely. We tied him to the donkey, then closed the trap door and pulled the bed and cupboard over onto it to try to keep it closed. Bronn contributed with some sort of magic that seemed to warp the wood of the door, jamming it into its frame. Preparations complete, we set out immediately from the cottage and the Gate, our party now doubled in number.


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## Zurai (Jun 17, 2007)

*Session 3 Part 2: ... Like Tears From A Star*

We had barely gone a hundred feet when another green flash lit up the rainy night. Without a word said, everyone began to run at full speed – even more so when we heard, even across the distance and barriers between us, the sound of something massively heavy striking wood. There were two impacts, then another, and then the sound of a terrible roar and the splintering of wood.

Risking a glance over my shoulder towards the remains of the house, I saw a squat, reptilian creature shoulder its way out of the wreckage. Following it closely was a large man wearing what appeared to be plate armor – presumably Mathis.

We continued to run as fast and far as we could, but when I again glanced behind me, the reptilian was running after us with astounding speed. It was already halfway to us, and moving at least three times as fast as the quickest of us. The knight, on the other hand, was barely visible even to my light-sensitive eyes.

Within seconds, the thing was upon us. It raced in a broad circle around the party, taunting us with its speed. The air around its head seemed to shimmer, as if in some unbearable heat, then a much larger, more draconic head faded into view superimposed over the creature’s. This, apparantly, was Adamardith’s herald.

“Hand over Master Ferallon and the Book and I will be merciful!” the Dragon roared at us. Even as I started to yell a denial back at him, Bronn darted towards the donkey and cut the rope binding the Master, sending him sliding off over the surprised equine’s rear. “Deal!” he cried, but the Master’s apprentices, as well as myself and V, quickly moved between the Master and the Dragon.

“What are you _doing_?” I hissed at Bronn.

“Not fighting a Dragon!” was his only reply, as he backed off away from the impending combat. “Princess, stay back!” he added, and I groaned.

“_*Princess*_?! Oho, and so I catch two birds with one stone! I wonder where you thought to take her – but there are only two choices if you were headed this direction, and I doubt the Brotherhood of Stars would take you in.*” Instantly, the creature was moving again, this time circling around us until it had a clear view of the Princess.

I, however, circled with it, placing myself between her and harm. V and the apprentices came with me, but Bronn stayed off by himself. I unwrapped my chain, setting the end spinning, and my companions similarly readied themselves for combat.

“Little worms, defy me and you will all be crushed!” the Dragon’s proxy roared at us – but I’d had enough. Combat was inevitable at this point; I’d rather fight the Dragon alone than the Dragon and the knight and whatever else came out of that Gate.

My companions seemingly had the same idea – they charged forward even as I was resolving to do just that. The three remaining glaive-wielding apprentices each jabbed at the Dragon, but their blows merely glanced off its scales. V and I charged forward as one right behind them – fortunately for us, as it turned out. The Dragon’s image reared back, and the air around the creature filled with sparks and little tendrils of lightning. Before the apprentices had a chance to react, a brilliant ring of electricity burst out from the image of the Dragon, evaporating the rain and sending arcs of energy coruscating over the apprentices. One of them managed to dive to the ground and avoid the worst of the attack, but the others took the full fury and crumpled over their glaives, smoke pouring from their blackened skin.

Stepping up into the newly-vacant positions ringing the beast, V and I lashed out with all our strength, rending its scales with oddly bloodless gashes. The remaining apprentice fled back to relative safety near the Princess, who by now had managed to string her short bow and launch an arrow at the Dragon. To her credit, it did hit; unfortunately, it failed to find purchase in its flesh, shattering against its larger upper body scales instead. I saw the Dragon shift its weight to one side and quickly dodged to the side, neatly avoiding a strike from its dagger-sized talons. My return stroke was immediate and effective, coiling around the creature’s neck, then biting into it and twisting the spine until it snapped as I whipped my hand back. The scaly beast shuddered, then crashed to the ground. V stepped forward and plunged his glowing sword into it to be sure of the kill.

While its herald was, by all appearances, dead, the image of Adamardith’s head still persisted. If anything, the Dragon looked amused.

“Well. I must admit that was an impressive little display. Seeing as I have no more resources in the area, I’m afraid this will delay my wrath. Don’t worry though, now that I know where the Princess is, I’ll be sure to put together a welcoming party for her.”

With those words, the image shimmered again, then faded away. I knew, however, that the Dragon Adamardith had been bluffing on at least one point, however – the knight Mathis was still around. Spinning in place, I spotted him in the distance between us and the now-ruined cottage; having seen the herald die, he was already turning to run. I pointed him out to V and the pair of us sped off in pursuit. We caught him almost as easily as the herald had caught us, as we weren’t burdened by the weight of a suit of plate mail.

Mathis still had a bit of fight left in him, though. He had been watching us over his shoulder, and as soon as V drew close to him, he suddenly spun around and ran at the Gateborn. Screaming “Adamardith!” he put all of his considerable weight behind his falchion and the heavy blade bit deep into V’s metal plating**. To his credit, V reacted quickly, dodging one way then another in an attempt to get behind the screaming knight. I tried to pull Mathis’ to his knees with a strike from my chain, but he dodged deftly and spun with V***, catching the alien warrior in the exact location of the first hit. The powerful blow shattered V’s armor plating and crunched through whatever passed for his innards, emerging on the other side in a spray of metal and wooden splinters****.

The violet light emanating from V’s eyes slowly faded even as I opened myself up to Korinthos and sent my full power into my next few attacks, ravaging Mathis’s exposed back and sides until he, too, collapsed to the ground. As the last light faded away, I thought I heard V say “Until... later....”, but it could have been one of Korinthos’s tricks; I had opened myself enough to him by using his power against the knight.

Not knowing what else to do, I scavenged the dead knight’s belongings, taking what was useful and leaving the rest, then dragged V’s lifeless husk back to the rest of the group, who stared in horror. I merely shook my head and glanced down at my feet – were those tears dripping down my cheeks alongside the rain drops? I had only known the Gateborn for three days now, and yet it felt like I had lost a brother.

When I looked up again, Bronn was inspecting V’s metal composition. He tapped on the armor plating, hefted one of the shards in his hand, and took out his dagger to try to scratch a mark in it. Looking up, he shook his head and said “You know, I think V’s armor was mithral*****. We should hang onto this and get some weapons or armor made from it. I think V would appreciate being able to continue fighting, even like that, more than he would being buried.”

That said, all of us except one of the Master’s apprentices (who stayed behind to guard the still-unconcious Master, just in case) dragged the bodies of the two fallen apprentices a few hundred feet away and said a short prayer for their souls before burying them. Only after our silent prayers for our honored dead were finished did we all rise and return to the site of the recent battle.

Strangely, the reptilian herald was missing; where it had been now lay the massively scarred, naked corpse of a man. A dragon-shaped helmet was attached to his head, apparantly by means of a pair of massive screws. Shuddering at the thought of the torture this unfortunate victim of the Dragon had been through, we quickly buried him as well. Even as we finished, though, a new unpleasant surprise greeted us: simultaneously from the north, south, and west, flashes of green light lit up the stormy sky and the sound of war-horns were heard.





* - Thankfully, Bronn’s player decided _not_ to mention the artifacts we carried and the fact that no one had the slightest clue what the “Brotherhood of Stars” was. I was ready to smack him with a rolled-up newspaper for revealing that we had the Princess with us as it was.
** - A natural 20 confirmed with a 15 for ~30 damage.
*** - Failed Tumble check to move through Mathis’ square.
**** - Another natural 20 to hit followed by a natural 20 to confirm and a high damage roll, putting V at -20 something. Even minimum critical hit damage would have killed him.
***** - It was. He had taken Mithral Body at 1st level. The DM made Bronn pass an Appraise check to identify the mithral, though.


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## Zurai (Jun 17, 2007)

Session 4 teasers (no promises on when I'll get it written up):

* - Ambush!
* - Torture!
* - Rescue!


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## Zurai (Jun 22, 2007)

*Session 4 Part 1: In The Forest Of The Night*

Given our recent experiences, we were forced to assume that the green flashes were further Gates opening, and that the war-horns were coming from units of the Dragon’s soldiers. A few seconds of frantic speculation and a short argument about where we should go – there were no lights or horns from the east, but was it a trap? – ended in the decision to simply press forward as best we could towards the dubious safety of Ompan, to the southwest. It was our hope to slip between the western and southern forces by going through the Ward Woods, then cutting across the hills as fast as we could manage.

That night was a tense, tiring affair, as we had to travel over a dozen miles through heavy rainfall in the middle of the night without having had the chance to rest for over a day. By the time we reached the edge of the forest, everyone was clearly exhausted and on edge. We made camp inside the forest sometime after midnight and set the remaining apprentices on watch, since they hadn’t been hiking cross-country all day and thus were the least fatigued. One by one we finally managed to fall asleep, and miraculously, we slept undisturbed for the first time since the Dragon invaded.

When we arose in the late morning of the next day, we took the time to become more acquainted with the Master (who was now concious again) and his apprentices. As it turned out, the Master used to be a servant of the Dragon who stole a certain book from Adamardith’s hoard and fled through a Gate to escape the Dragon’s wrath. The book, several inches thick and circular in shape, described in incredible detail how to make a special type of magical sword used by a race of beings that lived in a world beyond the Gates. By following the directions inside the book, a master smith would be able to craft one of these swords over the course of a year – _without_ needing any magic in the process.

The Master had split his time over the last year between training apprentices as assassins to attack the Dragon and creating one of these silver swords. He had the book on a chain around his neck, but the incomplete sword had been left on the anvil back in the Master’s hideaway. Unfortunately, at this point the sword had been ruined because the Master hadn’t performed the neccesary ritual in the morning; he would have to start all over on another blade, assuming he could find another hideaway with access to a forge and all the materials he needed.

Our curiosity temporarily slated, we packed up camp and continued on our way. After a few hours of travel through the forest, we came to what appeared to be a dried out stream bed cutting through the forest. The stream bed was about ten feet deep and fifteen feet wide, and we would have to cross it in order to continue travelling in this direction. Still, a ten foot drop followed by a ten foot climb wasn’t especially strenuous, so those of us who were athletic – in other words, myself and the two remaining apprentice assassins – jumped down into the gulley and helped the others climb down safely. Bronn seemed especially eager to get to the other side, however, so he declined to wait for us to climb up and help him, instead scrambling ungracefully up the loose slope.

No sooner had he stepped off the edge of the gulley than he was struck by an arrow from somewhere in the woods – and the arrow carried a further surprise with it...

“Aughh! I’m blind!” yelled Bronn. Apparantly the arrow had been coated with a fast-acting blinding poison.

In the next few seconds, chaos erupted. Nearly a dozen hooded and cloaked figures stepped out from behind the trees they had been hiding behind and shot arrows at the party or charged forward with heavy, weighted nets. They ignored the one-legged Master, but every other person in the party was targeted by at least one arrow; the arrow with my name on it missed by a hair, and the Princess was seemingly unaffected by the poison (though she was hysterical over being hit with an arrow – she had never actually been hit in combat before this point).

One of the net-bearers charged at me and threw his net, but I was able to side-step his clumsy attack. I retaliated by planting my feet firmly on the ground, allowing me to put my full weight into a strike that sent him reeling, but didn’t drop him. Then one of the archers managed to hit me with an arrow, and the world dissolved into darkness. I could still hear the combat going on around me, and I could _smell_ the warrior I had been fighting as he moved towards the Princess, presumably with less than honorable intentions. I lashed out once more with my chain, attempting to target him by his scent, but I hit only empty air.

Within twenty seconds, our attackers had secured all of us, although Bronn had been particularly aggravating for them; he had cast a spell to make him run faster and attempted to run away, but instead had run face-first into a tree next to one of the warriors, who had entangled him in a net. “Found one!” he called out, though no one was able to help him at the time. After a few seconds of struggling against the net, and a call for help from the warrior, Bronn managed to get free – and promptly turned and ran straight into the waiting arms of the warrior that had moved to help the first one.*

“Gather them up quickly, we have to move before the Dragon’s men arrive.” one of the unknown assailants said.

“Wait! Why are you attacking us if the Dragon is your enemy?” I asked, but my only response was a chorus of raucous laughter.

The Princess started to try to talk to them further, but I heard the sharp crack of a slap and a squeel of surprised pain from her, followed by another of the attackers saying “Shut up if you want to stay alive, slaves.”

Eventually they herded us together into a wagon and started driving us through the forest. I do not know how long we traveled, but after the blinding poison – thankfully not permanent – had worn off, the attackers finally revealed themselves to us. They came first to me, asking me a dangerous question – “So, who are you? Gesult, Nerendus, or Korinthos?” – and then pulling back their hoods to reveal the faces of a group of Corrupted Demonlings.

_*FREE! FREE ME! ALLIES!*_ Korinthos battered hard at my inner defenses, and I was barely able to contain him. I growled in rage and struggled in my bonds, which earned me a clubbing, but gave them no other answer.

“So you maintain complete control? Interesting. We’ll see how long _that_ lasts.” and with a taunting grin, they turned to the rest of my companions. With sly smirks, they told everyone exactly who and what they were – and by extension, what I was – much to the horror of all. After that, no one would even look at me. I could feel the despair starting to coil its tentacles around me, and Korinthos never faltered in his assault on my mind. He absorbed my entire focus for the remainder of the wagon journey.




* - In game terms, Bronn was blinded and so had to pick direction randomly when he moved. His first d8 sent him charging into a tree, right next to one of the archers. The archer got him in a net, but he struggled enough that she had to ask one of the other warriors for help. When Bronn got free, the other warrior had just moved to a flanking position with the first one – and Bronn’s second d8 roll sent him in exactly that direction.


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