# The Thorns of Winter -(updated  12/25/2022)



## Nthal

​The Thorns of Winter​(Based on a homebrew campaign in Eberron)
(This is updated weeklyish. Last post December 25th , 2022) (just before midnight)
Story by Nthal
Additional Material by:
Ryan aka 'The Blade'
Graysire aka 'Sage Redoubt'
Jess aka 'Adrissa'​​​Introduction – Even Harsher Landings - October 14th, 2020​_ 

Krona Peak, Ironroot Mountains._​

Moravan carried up the mugs on a tray from the kitchen, with steam still pouring forth from their rims and bodies. He sweated not from the exertion, but the heat from the mugs themselves. But it was a small thing, and the mugs always were…cleaner this way. Sure, a Gold Dragon Inn of House Ghallanda (or at least the bigger ones) could clean off the crockery, flatware and tableware just by waving it over a runed block in the corner. But how did that teach anyone the value of hard work, and doing it right?

Moravan wasn’t against the new tools being produced by the Dragonmarked Houses, but how was one to instill the value of hard work, if you never did it? Not everyone could pursue a craft, and not all were cut out for duties requiring martial skill. It would be the spoiling of the young Moravan thought.

He set the tray down near the bar, and as he did so, the tolling of the bell above told him, it would be an hour till the 3rd quarter of the day started. Smiling he hoped that the dwarven expeditions below brought their hard-earned coin to the ‘_Pattern Welded Blade.’ _ On one side, it was good fortune to have the tavern so close to passages to the Realm Below, on the other an ill-omen, a somber reminder that not all that venture below, return. It was feast or famine as a business, but lately fortunes had been high.

He smiled looking around at the vaulted ceiling. While most of Krona Peak was outside on the face of the mountain, the legacy of mines below weaved through the roots of the rock itself. Many galleries and foundries had been converted to other uses; warehouses, temples, and bars and inns like this one. The ‘_Patternweld’ _itself stood in the bones of an ancient foundry, long since repurposed, with a great common room below, and four stories of rooms above, circling the common festhall in tiers above. It was the last stop down, and the first up. Many business deals were held in private rooms, and plenty of beds to sleep off success or forget failures.

Nevertheless, Clan Mroranon took no chances; only Mror Dwarves could tread below the city on the way to the colonies below, and recently the Mror had been bolstering the guard. Some said that the denizens below were waiting for the right moment to attack. Others thought that Clan Mroranon was ready to push the front deeper. All Moravan knew, is that it made all the clans thirsty.

“Stack those mugs, so I can get my tray back,” said Igneve behind him. “There is more to bring up from the wash, I heard that success is coming our way.” The tapkeeper said with a grin.

“That is good to hear. Perhaps we can keep the profits and not spend it all on new mugs this time,” he replied to her, as he stacked the mugs on the shelf behind the bar.

“That’d be a welcome change,” said an older Mror, who trundled into the bar. “At least you haven’t had to buy new furnishings.”

“Gavin! Let me pour you a stout,” Igneve said with a smile, searching for a cool mug. “Well, it’s been a while since we had a chair swung in here, but I do take pride that the bones of these tables are strong enough to weather another war, and not just a brawl.”

“Hah. After the last month’s meeting of the Iron Council, you would wonder about that,” Gavin said, taking the stout from Igneve.

Moravan set down the last of the steaming vessels, “I still can’t wrap my head around that. House Mroranon, letting Soldorak run internal security for Krona Peak?”

“You didn’t hear the howls when the council heard Kundarak’s price for doing the same.” Gavin replied. “The house has enough riches. But Mroranon is in a bind; needing to play nice with other clan, keeping coin in the bank, and being a little thin with the Realm Below being expanded.”

“But Soldorak? Why put your Clan’s worst foe in charge of security of your home?” Moravan said still confused.

“Some of the merchants I spoke to think it’s a ploy,” Igneve said. “It keeps Soldorak from expanding deeper into Solangap. One of them was expecting Soldorak to make some blunder and be replaced.”

“That’s a bit farfetched,” Moravan said dubiously.

“Not if you want Kundarak to assume the contract at the lowball prices that Soldorak offered,” Gavin said then taking a large swallow from his mug. “It’s a game at its finest, and all on Soldorak not to lose. And one that Kundarak may not want to win.”

“All I know is that it puts the Mroranons on edge now as they pass Soldorak security sites.” Moravan said bitterly. “A mistake is bound to happen, and someone is going to get hu—” he said when he was cut off by a shriek.

The three dwarves looked around in panic looking for the source of the noise, when it suddenly stopped with the thunderous crash on one of the ancient tables, cracking it in half. The table collapsed onto the floor of the _‘Patternweld’ _into a pile of splintered wood and shattered crockery.

"By Onatar’s Beard what in the---

“No, _who_ is a better question,” Igneve said rushing to the crushed table, where a figure lay.

The first thing that stood out to the trio was, it wasn’t a dwarf. In fact, the body that lay on the remains of the table appeared to be a young human female, her body was splayed at an uncomfortable angle. She wore patchwork leggings, which seemed to be assembled from random colored scraps of leather. Around her waist were a number of belts, one of which held a thin blade to her side, and the other a shorter dagger, and assorted pouches. In her hand she clutched an iron rod, topped with a purple gem. Her breastplate was of a strange design, but that was barely noticeable as it was covered in blood. She was wearing a pair of necklaces, but one stood out for having a large unfamiliar symbol, of a balance held aloft by a bony arm and hand. Her hair long and despite being spattered with blood was the color of not silk yellow or blonde, but radiant metallic gold. She lay there unaware of her surroundings, as a small river of blood poured out of her mouth.

Igneve knelt by the woman and tried to revive her to no avail, turning to her partner, “Moravan, she’s bleeding badly, we need to get her to House Jorasco quickly!”



Vernan Galandrak walked calmly in the busy streets of Krona Peak; the bell had just tolled the start of the 3rd quarter, and the cool spring breeze blew between the buildings, alleys, and streets on the surface. Yet the skies were still the greys of winter, with the sun hidden behind dark skies. Vernan was a recent immigrant, being the scion of a small clan that called Sharn home. But in his youth, he became curious what the Mror’s were really like, and with his father’s support left the City of Towers and set up shop in Krona Peak.

He considered himself a decent inquisitive, but he found that his unique situation and experience in Krona were in high demand. A clansman with no formal ties to the main clans of the Mror enabled him to cultivate a certain mystique of being unbiased. Having grown up around Sharn, he was more familiar with the rest of the Khorvaire’s peoples and had better insight into their motivations. In short, as an outsider to the Mror, he was trusted to have no strong clan allegiances and he was Mror enough to be considered one of their own.

Smiling to himself it didn’t hurt that the Peak never closed; the hours the Mror kept were basically ‘any,’ so getting a drink, taking a nap, getting your gear worked on can be done any time you needed; shops rarely were closed, even the most prized artisans had apprentices present at all hours who could greet and make arrangements for a client to meet the master.

He continued his trek through the streets, until he found the building he was looking for. The large rectangular structure was probably a great storehouse, or perhaps a barracks in the distant past, when the Peak was smaller. But since the Lightning Rail’s arrival, storehouses were now closer to the rail in the valley, and the barracks moved closer to them. But the low building was an ideal place for its current clientele; one who needed few stairs and wide-open passages. The wounded.

House Jorasco leased the building from Clan Mroranon and spent coin on herbs and medicinal shipped from Frosthaven. And while the Last War did have its share of Mror wounded who needed care, it saw far more business from healing Mror fighting the in the Realm Below. But the conflict there had been quiet for almost a year, and the enclave was not usually a busy place.

Today was different, a crowd of dwarves and a scattering of non-dwarven onlookers hovered around the entrance, trying to peek inside. All the while talking among themselves:

“A strange human came up from the Realm’s Below!”

“I heard she smashed apart the _‘Patternweld’_ in a bloody rage.”

“That’s ridiculous! Igneve went inside the Enclave with her.”

“Is it true, she has hair made of gold?”

“How did a human get past the security patrols?”

_Finally, a relevant question._ Vernan thought to himself, as he pushed his way through the crowd. Finally, he made his way to the main entrance, where a pair of Iron Blademarks from House Deneith blocked the way inside.

“You don’t look wounded. What’s your business?”

“My business is Kundarak’s,” Vernan said gruffly, presenting his identification papers, with the endorsement of the House of Banking’s seal. “I must speak with Mylle.”

The Blademark nodded and stood aside, and Vernan stepped into the House of Healing.

He never liked the large Jorasco Enclaves. Not because of the healers or their business, just the larger ones had larger population of the old and sick; the ones near the end of their days. All Jorasco could offer the folk was comfort for a fee. You can’t cure old age, but many of the aliments could be eased. That and the sharp pungent smell of herbs and unguents used gave a strange ‘artificially clean’ smell.

He continued walking towards the section used for new patients, and the most likely place where he could get his bearings on the mystery at hand. There was a desk of dwarven height, and perched on a chair sat a halfling, busy pouring through papers behind a wall of glass. He didn’t even look up as the dwarf’s shadow crossed his face.

“Take a seat and we will be with you as soon as we are able,”

“I’m not hur—” started Vernan.

“I can tell; you aren’t bleeding everywhere. Take a seat,” the halfling stated dispassionately.

Vernan frowned, “I am here to see---”

“_We_ will tell _you_ who you will see, _when_ you see them, and you _will_ pay the fees up front.”

Vernan frowned and banged a large meaty hand on the desk and held up his papers to the glass to the surprised halfling’s face.

“Stuff it. I am here on Clan business. You _will_ comply with House Kundarak’s investigation as per arrangement with Clan Mroranon. Failure to do so would be…problematic for you and a waste of time for me. Where is Mylle?”

“Observing that your manners are still gruff, but not unwarranted,” said a voice to his left. Turning Vernan gave the slight blonde-haired halfling woman a satisfied grunt. She was wearing a simple dress, with the embroidery of House Jorasco on the left breast, and she returned the smile with a curt nod.

“Mylle nice to see you again; the bed side manners of the staff need some work,” he remarked.

“That’s why he is at the desk, and not your bedside. And if it were anyone else making a stink, I would have the Blademarks pummel you into needing long-term care here.”

“That bad of business recently? I thought you kept the books current.”

“It isn’t about the books, but about…onlookers and curiosity seekers today. And you aren’t one to chase the injured that arrive here like an out of work barrister.”

“No…I am not. I will explain. Please escort me to your new patient.”

“Of course,” Mylle d’Jorasco said and led the inquisitive beyond a set of double doors separating the lobby area from the healing one. “I’ll get the basics out of the way for you. Woman, perhaps the age of a twenty-year-old human. She was covered in blood and was suffering from numerous internal injuries.”

“She alive?”

“Yes, but she is under sedation right now.” Mylle looked at Vernan confused. “Now usually when you come here, you’re looking for a corpse, not a live one. I take it this isn’t some insurance matter.”

“I was hired to investigate a security question,” Vernan said. “Being alive might make this easier. What did you mean by ‘perhaps the age of a twenty-year-old human?’ Why do you think they aren’t?”

Mylle, gestured towards a door, and ushered Vernan inside. There in the room lit with driftglobes, lay a woman, attended by another Jorasco staffer. As described by the throng outside her hair was like spun gold, and not just a simple blonde. She lay there sleeping, her chest rising and falling gently.

“Most of the injuries were internal; some broken bones that were set and healed, but the organs suffered a bit of trauma. Our original concern was she was bleeding heavily inside but…”

“But what?”

“While, she was covered by a large amount of blood, but as far as I can tell it wasn’t hers. She had no external wounds at all, which tells me—”

“—Its someone else’s.”

“Precisely. As we examined her, I found something…odd.” The healer moved to the woman’s head and slowly peeled open one of the unconscious woman’s eyes.

Vernan squinted at the woman, and then he furrowed his brow in confusion. The woman’s eye was like a mirror, reflecting back his own visage and had no pupil or sclera.

“’Odd.’ That is an understatement.”

“That’s why I am not sure she _is_ human. I have read that the elves that live in the Feyspires have eyes similar to this; Eladrin I believe they are called. But they are supposedly solid colors. Another race known as Tieflings are said to have similar eyes, but with metallic colors. But, after I looked it up in our journals here, that isn’t right either. They tend to have colored skin, that isn’t human like, and usually dark hair, horns and tails. She,” pointing at the sleeping woman, “Has none of those traits.”

“Clear the room!” a booming voice said. “We will need to move this criminal to…Vernan! What are you doing *here?*” Vernan turned, to see a middle-aged dwarf with four bodyguards. The Mror’s flaming red hair matched his temperament as he glared at Vernan with contempt. “This is a matter for Krona Peak’s security forces to address, not body wagon chasing inquisitives.”

“Rior Soldorak, how nice to see you again. It’s been…too soon,” Vernan replied coldly. “Unfortunately, House Kundarak by right and by contract has a stake in this…mystery.”

“Kundarak is not a party to this—”

“By the terms of the agreement, in an instance where security is breached, Kundarak has a right to all investigation and proceedings involving the breach. In addition, I am also to turn over to you any independent findings I uncover.”

“What crap is this? This is Clan’s Soldorak’s concern, not Kundarak’s,” Rior spat. “Why would Kundarak even care?”

“They care, because if someone can breach security, they could breach the vaults or other places where Kundarak keeps things safe. That is why I am here, and I can certainly take it to Clan Mroranon if you don’t believe me; I have better ways to waste my time than argue with you about it.”

Rior glared at the Inquisitive, “Fine, but this is our investigation.”

Vernan nodded, “Of course. You have the lead here.”

Rior smiled smugly, “Wonderful; Is she in danger of injury if we move her?”

Mylle stood up stiffly and replied, “No. I do not recommend it, but she can be moved. She is still sedated of cou—”

“Keep her that way for now. Where are her things?” Rior demanded.

“We have secured her belongings in the next room. If you follow me,” Mylle led Rior and Vernan to a room across the hallway. The four bodyguards took position by the sleeping woman, with two inside and two standing outside the room. Mylle produced a set of keys and unlocked the heavy metal lock and pushed open the iron bound door. Escorting the dwarves inside, they came to a table, where various items lay; a rod, a sword and dagger, a shield, pouches, belts, jewelry, pack and some items covered in blood; namely a breastplate, breeches and a cloak.

“Did you already rifle through her things?” Rior demanded.

Mylle glared at the dwarf. “Jorasco policy is to inventory all items carried by patients suspected of crimes, or inability to pay. A copy,” and Mylle reached over to a nearby workbook and pulled out a loose sheet and handed it to Rior, “Is provided to security, especially if you are planning on incarcerating her.”

Vernan ignored the exchange and started to examine the gear. Looking at one of the pouches, he found a strange assortment of objects. Items like a copper wire, chipped stone, a mirror, and vials of liquid. In another leather case, he found a metal cylinder with no obvious use. He then moved on and examined another pouch, which jingled with the sound of coin. He opened it and started to look at the tender. But as he looked, he became more and more confused.

“What in the?” Vernan wondered aloud.

Rior turned to look at what Vernan was handling, when Mylle spoke again. “You noticed that too. I have never seen coinage like that in the Five Nations. I wondered if it is older somehow.”

“Not likely, I’ve seen coins used by the Inspired of Sarlona, Dhakanni coins, and others. These don’t resemble them.”

“A foreign power? A spy?” Rior said in a huff. “I wouldn’t doubt a sea prince; they mint their own coinage too. Whose blood is this?”

“We don’t know…but it isn’t hers,” Mylle said.

“So, there’s a body around too is my guess,” Rior said grimly. “She’s a spy and a murderer most likely. Keep her under sedation and prepare her to be moved.”

“Ahem, there is a matter of— “Mylle started.

“Soldorak will guarantee the bill; If she cannot pay, it will be added to her crimes,” Rior said.

Vernan raised an eyebrow at that and said nothing. Continuing to examine the other objects, the next thing he looked at was the blood covered breastplate. It had a fine golden sheen and had a motif and style he wasn’t familiar with. He opened up a notebook and pulled out a stick of charcoal and started to sketch the design down. He also sketched out the necklace designs that lay there, none of which were familiar to the dwarf.

In the meantime, one of Rior’s guards stepped in the room, and the Mror barked orders.

“Take her to the interrogation block, and hold her there,” Rior said. “We’ll work her over tomorrow.”

Vernan continued to sketch barely paying attention. “She’s proficient with magic…might want to prepare for that,” he muttered.

“What’s that?” Rior said glaring at the inquisitive.

“She has components for spells in one of the pouches,”

“I don’t need you to tell me how to secure a prisoner of unknown capability,” Rior growled. “We assume they are, until proven otherwise.” He turned to look at the guard and Vernan saw out of the corner of his eye, that Rior jerked his head towards the inquisitive and nodded, which put a small grin on Vernan’s face. “You can come by an hour after first quarter bell and we’ll see what kind of spy she is, who’s paying her, and how she got there. In the meantime, I don’t want to see you by the garrison at all; you are not to talk to her, without me being present.”

“As you like Rior,” Vernan said mildly, and watched as the guard gathered up the pile of gear and things into a box and followed Rior out of the room.

“I do not like handing over a patient to the jailor without—” Mylle started.

“—Getting paid?” Vernan finished the sentence.

Mylle d’Jorasco elbowed the dwarf. “It is not about the money. The House cares: but I do wish for patients to be taken care of. That was a long fall, and she’ll awake to a lot of pain.”

Vernan frowned, “Fall?”

“You didn’t hear? She landed and smashed into a table at _‘Patternweld’_ probably from the upper rooms.

Vernan thought a moment, “It’s been a while since I stopped in for a drink. Time to pay Igneve a social call.”


*Notes:*
Well...you didn't think I would drop Myrai down a well and leave her there did you?

That almost happened, but a rare event occurred where I moved her to a different campaign altogether, because the other one ended abruptly.  I have been itching to get to this part of the story, for a while so I hope you enjoy it.  Feedback (private / public ) is greatly appreciated!


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## Richards

Well, this is very interesting.  I don't think I've ever seen a "campaign transplant" like this happen before.  And while I'm glad I'll get to continue reading about Myrai's exploits, it's a shame we won't be seeing any more of the others from the Journal of the Souls of Legend campaign.

Oh well, I'll just pull up a front row seat and enjoy this new show; I'm sure I'll come to enjoy the new main characters as much as I did the previous bunch....

Johnathan


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## Nthal

Richards said:


> Well, this is very interesting.  I don't think I've ever seen a "campaign transplant" like this happen before.  And while I'm glad I'll get to continue reading about Myrai's exploits, it's a shame we won't be seeing any more of the others from the Journal of the Souls of Legend campaign.
> 
> Oh well, I'll just pull up a front row seat and enjoy this new show; I'm sure I'll come to enjoy the new main characters as much as I did the previous bunch....
> 
> Johnathan




For me, they were a constant thing as we rotated DM hats.  And For Myrai 'Big Plot line' it makes sense.  And now with planewalking between Faerun and Eberron a canon thing...why not?

Personally, I wanted to continue the original plot line; but can't help what happened.  I mean I could make it up like any other form of fiction.  But honestly, the amount of clean up of inconsistencies (which are normal for a campaign really)  left me at a point that I had a very little idea what happened next, other than Paradros was involved.

But as for 'Thorns'  it was a homebrew originally targeted for Faerun as well.  But the players wanted to do an Eberron, and it actually WORKS better there IMHO.   

But we need to get some preludes out of the way first; as I like telling a story, and this is a bit more than backdrop.  And unlike the other campaign, I will be including the writing of other persons involved, who is incredible in developing character concepts with good writability.  In fact, THIS campaign will have writings from my son, daughter, and this other person.  It's been something I have been eager to get to for a while now.


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## Nthal

Falling awake - 10/19/2020​
Igneve glared at the smashed table in the center of the room. Not because of the mess it left, but because of the small fence of chain and two guards that stood around it, like some attraction at a Ghallanda festival. But the Soldorak’s also demanded room around the fence the setup. That was nearly a dozen tables and seats that had to be shoved up against the walls, and almost a third of the floor space, all while someone from Solangap could arrive and review the wreckage.

“It’s a broken table,” she said as she slammed metal plates into a tub. “Smashed by a woman from a fall. That I would think is obvious. But why do they need to hold my bar hostage?”

“It's not the whole bar,” Moravan pointed out.

“It's going to be a loss, even if we are full. And to top it off all the patrons, are too busy looking up to drink!” Igneve snapped back, pilling more plates into the tub, “Can’t make enough in food, and not enough want to stay an evening. Everyone is going topside!”

“It could be worse!” Moravan exclaimed, as he filled a pitcher with a strong earthy Mror stout.

“Well, Igneve it’s been a while hasn’t it,” Vernan said as he stepped up to the bar with a smile on his face.

“You’re right,” Igneve sighed and looked upwards. “Now it’s worse.” She turned and glared at the inquisitive. “And you have some gall showing up in here now.”

“I pay my bills!” Vernan said sounding wounded.

“Only for the drinks. I seem to remember you owing me for two chairs, a chest and a bed!”

“The fire was _not_ my fault!”

“I don’t seem to remember the fire having coin either!”

“I’m sorry about that,” Vernan said trying to mollify the woman. “And I am sorry to say I am here on business. Tell you what, an ale and double the price because I need some answers on your recent…table crasher?”

“The table is,” and she with a flourish pointed out the wreckage on the floor, “Right there. Don’t think you need me for that.”

“I passed it on the way in. Something about the Soldorak pair standing over it like flies on horse crap. No, that isn’t what I need you for.”

Igneve looked at the inquisitive puzzled.

“I need you to show me, what’s right above it.”

Igneve led Vernan up the spiral rampway that led up the inside of the circular room, every ten steps there was a door set into the rock, with an everbright lantern giving off a soft warm light from a sconce in the wall. Opposite each door was an opening overlooking the festhall below.

“So, this was a foundry of some type?” Vernan remarked as they walked up the sloping ramp together.

Igneve nodded, “Down at the bottom, the kitchen area was once the bellows for the smelter, but there were workshops all along this rampway. Used to be a pair of rails for carts with ore, metals and whatever before we ripped them out. The coalbin is now where we distill and brew.”

“Sharn isn’t much different. Mror though has less concerns about history,” Vernan remarked. “But in Sharn, half the time in the lower towers you had no idea what the original builder intended, and so much of it built up over stuff long forgotten. Almost no memory of what the stone once did.”

“Well, this was all my work; this place was cobwebs and dust before,” Igneve said with pride. “Now the workshops are rooms, and the rails were reused below. Rented out the bottom for construction space as they built up the garrison below, and it paid for the reworking of the place. A lot of that crew still come here for drinks. Ok, we’re here; the top.”

In front of Vernan was a large arched opening with a small railing at knee height that prevented folks from getting too close to the edge. Vernan put his hands on the side wall and peered over the ledge, and sure enough, about four floors down he could see the remains of the table, the improvised fence and the guards.

Nodding to himself, he started to look around at the ground and at the railing, looking for signs of someone passing by. Running a finger across the stone, he looked at it, and saw the fine layer of dust that lay upon it. Frowning he kept looking over the archway and the wall.

“They were up here too. Had me search the rooms; though they wouldn’t say why.”

“Woman was covered in blood, right? Left a mess of it on the table I saw.”

Igneve nodded, “Yep, got her to House Jorasco in short order too.”

Vernan nodded, “Well, the blood wasn’t hers, so it came from somewhere.”

“Well that would explain the search…wait, you knew they wouldn’t find any, didn’t you?”

Vernan nodded, “When she landed, you didn’t get hit with any did you?”

Igneve frowned a moment, “A couple of drops…not much compared to what was on her.”

“Right. That means it was mostly dry when she hit the table, but not completely. But here on the railing, the edge of the sill, and the floor on the hall, there’s no sign of any, and the Soldorak’s didn’t find any either.

“How did you know that?”

“Because if they had, there would be another chain fence and a guard here.”

“So, she breaks my table in mostly dried blood?” Igneve said, her brow furrowed thinking this over.

"All of her injuries were internal, so that blood is someone else’s. Rior thinks he has a murderer and spy. But I don’t think he’s going to find a body anywhere near here.”

“Why is that?”

“Something magical is involved. A woman falls from here, yet no one notices her enter the bar at all? She isn’t dressed for stealth either, with a shiny breastplate and a shield? If she is in disguise, it’s a terrible choice of one. And if she did kill someone, where is the body? I checked before coming here; no one is reported missing. The whole thing doesn’t make sense yet. The only thing I am certain of, is that Mylle is right.”

“About what?”

“With a fall like that, she’s is going to be in a lot pain when she wakes up.”




Flashes and images passed in front of my eyes; a dwarf laughing at me, a gnome screaming at me, a pair of men diving away from me. The bloody sacrifice I left behind on the floor. I felt stone crack and give way and I tumbled, falling towards the sound of water. Water whose surface I never breeched. I prayed during the fall, and was ready to give my life as I promised

And was rejected.

I felt the cool air rushing past me, and I tasted the moisture with my lips, when suddenly everything changed. Bright light flooded my eyes, and warm, dry air caressed my skin as I fell. Then I felt snapping, and cracking and heard the sounds of splintering wood. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe, and I glimpsed the face of a dwarf before my head hit a solid surface, causing a flash of white to pass in front of my eyes.

Now I am awake again…my head buzzed and pounded in pain. I was laying on my side and every breath hurt. I slowly opened my eyes, to walls of gray stone with flecks of red and blue shot throughout the rock, while I was laying on platform of the same stone. Ahead of me is an iron door, with a closed slot in the bottom, and a small window with bars at the top. Looking off the platform I saw a hole in the stone.

A prison? Maybe I didn’t escape the Duergar after all. But, Eridan was fettered, and the cell we found him in stank of sweat, rot and human offal. It didn’t smell that clean here, but it was nothing like his prison.

I pushed myself up with my right arm slowly, trying not to aggravate my headache, and I realized that my sides hurt equally. I blinked as I looked around, trying to get my bearings. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the stone, and my bare feet touched the cold floor. I looked down and saw that I was dressed in a rough spun tunic, that covers me down to mid-thigh, and was wide in the shoulders, hanging on me awkwardly. I looked down inside my tunic and saw that I had bandages wrapped all around me, constricting my breathing. Reaching up I touched my temple, and realized I had a wrapping around my head as well.

And that was it, nothing and no one else was in the room. My things were gone; my holy symbol, my rod, everything. I sat there and decided that the first thing I should do is perhaps heal myself. It would be harder without my symbol, but I could manage.

“Kelemvor, heal your wounded servant,” and I started to pull on a white strand. As I did, the buzzing in the background grew in strength, and in sudden pain. My hands flew to my temples and I fell forward onto my knees, gasping for air.

I gritted my teeth and tried again, slowly. As I touched the strand, I could feel the buzzing in my head increase sharply. I wondered if I could steel through it, and I tried continuing pulling on it. The buzzing and the pain kept increasing as I pulled. Finally, I released my hold on the strand and the buzzing returned to the back of my mind. I then decided on something even simpler; the incantation I used to clean myself. I reached within and started to braid a light and dark strand together. I started pulling it out, drawing the power even slower than before. But the pain ramped just as quickly, and it was still more than could endure. I let go again and panted for air as if I had to physically tried to manipulate the strands. I leaned forward and pounded the ground with my fist in anger.

I couldn’t even get a quarter of the strand in a state where I could use it; not enough for even the simplest of the magic I could work. The pain was beyond my ability to withstand. I wasn’t even sure that if I did manage to cast it, if I would even survive. I felt like it might actually kill me.

I leaned back against the stone platform, pulling up my knees to my chin, and I confronted the reality. I was alone in a cell somewhere. I didn’t know where in the multiverse I was. I hoped, prayed that my friends were safe.…but I wasn’t sure they could help me now.

Could anyone?

Would anyone?

No. It didn’t matter. I can’t assume there will be any help. I thought a moment and tried to remember anything I knew of the Prison in Sigil. I had as a young girl done a couple of rounds, cleaning the ducts and other places that only a scrawny kid could get to. But that wasn’t the same thing as a stay. Thinking back, I remembered that there were a couple of folks in the Sensates who managed to serve a short sentence there and they talked about it as a class, about what the experience was like.

I remembered they said something around the lines of ‘keep busy, keep thinking, keep going,’ because it wasn’t the Mercykillers that was the real enemy. It was boredom. So, what could I do?

I could move; I wasn’t fettered, and while I hurt, keeping moving and ready to do…something might be best. Nodding to myself, and I stood up and made a discovery.

I was taller than the cell, as I bumped my head against the roof. Puzzled for a moment, I realized that it made sense; if I were a dwarf, I would have a head’s clearance. But the cells the Duergar had were taller, probably to support the slaves they had. So that meant I was somewhere very different, but likely run by dwarves.

Stooping slightly, I walked around the cell. I didn’t realize it when I came to, but it was now clear that it must be pitch black. There wasn’t any light source, and if there was one from the outside, the bars didn’t cast any shadows inside the room. I considered that I might want to conceal that fact; most people assumed I was a strange human and didn’t realize I could see in the dark. And even if they did know that they didn’t know I could actually read in it, unlike others who could see in the dark.

I started with the hole in the stone, its purpose was quickly evident, as the distant odor of a sewer lingered there. It was a basin with an open drain to elsewhere, curving out of sight. I supposed that it was better than the pots they had in Sigil’s prison though.

The next thing to look at was the door. I noticed that the buzzing in my head increased as I approached it. It didn’t hurt more, but its presence was stronger. I looked at the slot at the bottom. It was barely a hand width in height. And was closed with a metal shield, leaving only the gap at the bottom the width of my smallest finger. It had to be for food, which just the thought of it made my stomach growl. I then bent down and looked through the bars. I could see a corridor, and another door directly across from mine. On it, I saw there was a lever that would raise the door to the slot below, and there was a keyhole that led to the mechanism that held it fast. There was also a hook protruding from the wall, on the side with the lock, whose purpose eluded me. I see a little of the hallway in both directions and could spot more doors, and the hint of light from the left side. But I quickly something else that drew my curiosity.

In a cage in the ceiling, positioned between my door and the door across from me I saw a crystal shard, the size of both my fists put together. It didn’t give off light or anything like that. But it was different from any crystal I had seen before with a smoky appearance with rivulets of black running through it. If that wasn’t interesting enough, the cage itself wasn’t just a bracket, but it was a full cage with a padlock, keeping the shard securely inside.

It meant it was important, not just a decoration. I stared at it for a moment, and started to pull on a light strand again, in hopes of healing myself. As I did so, and the pain appeared I saw the veins in the crystal pulse. As I pulled harder, the veins pulsed faster, matching the rhythm of pain I felt. Certain that was the source of pain, I let the strand go and stared at it wondering.

I moved to the far corners of the cell and tried again. And while the buzzing was less in the corners, the pain still was present when I tried to manipulate the strands. I sat down on the stone platform both annoyed and curious. I had never seen a crystal like that, and certainly had never heard of one that suppressed magic. It was interesting though; I would have loved to learn more about it.

I started to stretch my limbs, gritting through the discomfort I felt in my sides. I remembered in the Prison, I saw that some prisoners doing exercises and stretching. It was probably the only thing I could do, until I met my captors, and perhaps get fed. I tried to be inventive on what I could do, sitting up, pushing myself up with my arms, all the while watching the door.

I didn’t know how long it was, when suddenly my vision started to fade into grey. Looking at the barred window and listening I realized that several people wearing heavy armor were approaching, and they were carrying a light. I moved and sat on the platform and waited to see.

Suddenly, someone held a bright lantern up to the bars, and I had to raise up my arm to prevent myself from being blinded. After a moment, I heard a key turn in the lock, and the sound of the bolt being retracted, and then the door was pulled open. Three figures stepped in.

Dwarves. They were armored in chain mail, two them wore axes on their belts, and had crossbows pointed at me at the ready. The third one hung the lantern on a hook outside my door, the light flooding my cell. In his hands he held a set of manacles. Before they said anything, I realized that these weren’t Duergar. They lacked the gray skin and white hair they had. In fact, these looked like ‘normal’ dwarves. Their expression was all business, not showing disdain or hatred towards me, but the crossbow men were wary.

“Haaken sin herde ans!” the one with the manacles grumbled at me.

I shook my head, and said “Dvarkaan non,” which I remembered as ‘dwarven no.’ Or at least I hoped, I was pretty sure I didn’t insult them.

The dwarf nodded and pointed at me and thrust out an arm with the wrists upwards while saying something in a different language, “Widhab hands.” I swallowed, and held out my wrists helpfully, while saying “Non,”

The dwarf wasted no time clapping the manacles on one of my wrists, while giving me a peculiar look. He jerked the manacle upwards saying “Beweri upwird.”

I stood, and he roughly turned me around, and pulled the manacle behind my back. I quickly figured out that he was going to secure both my hands that way and didn’t resist when he grabbed my other wrist and secured it. Then he turned me around and held a firm grip on the chain the connected the manacles together, and turned me around forcibly, and pushed me into the corridor.




Rior was unamused, as he turned over in his hand a couple of objects frowning. He sat in an elevated chair at the back of the wall of the square room. In front of him was a small T-post with an open lock, and beyond that the door leaving the chamber. As he examined the pair in his hand, the door opened, and a gnome with a large tome entered. The gnome was older, with a white beard and curled moustache and a balding pate. On the right side of his face, an abstract tattoo of purples and magentas pulsated. He gave Rior a perfunctory nod and headed to a desk in one corner, taking a seat. As he set down the tome, he carried he spoke:

“Rior. Another one in a week. I hope this one won’t be boring.”

Rior glanced at the scribe, “I should hope not Paron. A spy and murderer should have a lot to say.”

The gnome arched an eyebrow, “As opposed to that heist on the Lightning rail? I should hope so. Any luck finding the others?”

Rior frowned, “No. That damned Boromar has told me all he knows, which wasn’t much. His kin had already fled town, with the goods, leaving our guest to rot.”

“Pity,” Paron said opening his book, and pulled out some quills and an ink pot from a small pouch fastened to his thigh. “Strange they left him behind,”

“It doesn’t matter, but I am going to send him to the Dreadhold for it,” grimaced Rior.

The gnome looked up, “That…sounds a bit overkill. Are you—”

“It is not your concern. Let’s focus on the sp—” and then the door opened again, this time with three dwarves, and a woman in tow.
Rior watched as they moved the woman and forced her to kneel in front of the t-post and locking her manacled behind it. She moved as if still in pain, which wasn’t surprising. Her golden hair was disheveled, and still spattered with blood. When the guards moved away and stood at ease by the exit, he finally could see what Mylle meant about her eyes.

Her eyes were like mirrors he was told, and the striking feature was not lost on him. And while he was not close enough to see his own reflection, it did give Rior a feeling of unease. She stared at him, not in fear, but in wariness. She probably was striking to Humans, an Khorvare, but her looks were not of interest to Rior. But Rior would get what he wanted from her soon enough.

“What is your name, girl?” He asked in common, assuming that she wasn’t bright enough for dwarvish. Her reaction was of puzzlement.

“Non,” she said simply, using the Dwarvish word for no.

“Playing dumb is only going to make this longer. What is your name?” Rior said letting his anger simmer to the surface.

She frowned and replied, “Yfa lufen not undergataan you.”

Rior leaned back frowning, “What crap is this? Paron?” he hissed at the gnome.

“I understood only half of that myself,” the gnome replied resting his chin in his left hand. “But if I didn’t know better, she doesn’t speak the common trade language.”

“Can’t you do something about that?”

“My mark will allow me to understand her, but she still would be unable to understand us.”

The woman pivoted her head back and forth, and spoke again, “Not…understand?”

“She’s playing us,” Rior said in a huff.

“Maybe not, If you allow me a moment,” and Paron stood up and walked in front of the woman. On her knees, she was at eyelevel with the gnome, and while Rior was aware of her visual distinctiveness, Paron was looking deeply into her eyes.

“Remarkable…I have never—”

“—Paron!” Rior shouted.

“Sorry, hmm…Non Dvaarkan, ye?” to which she shook her head. “Alright…Ydit k’in syea Gomit?”

She shook her head, and spoke again, “Gomit, nid wyf en.”

“She’s been around gnomes at least. That was proper conjugation. But not a speaker.”

The woman took the initiative, “Tel’quessir parra pisan?”

“Well that I recognize, but I don’t speak elvish,” Paron commented on.

“At least we can find a speaker for that,” Rior said rolling his eyes, “But how does she not know common?”

“Well, I can try a couple of others I do know. ‘Irragh Dar?’ ‘Atg’chan Ork?’”

The woman shook her head, and pursed her lips together, before speaking again., “A’ilo wau e cele?”

“That’s…familiar…but I don’t know it…where have I hear—”

“Nemtk bezsaalk Baatezu?” she said, but this time it sounded like it was being scraped out of her throat.

“My word. That’s not one I would have expected,” he shook his head.

“What?” Rior demanded.

“One of the languages of the fiends, It’s an odd one to—”

The gnome was interrupted by the door opening, and Vernan stepping inside.

“How tedious,” the inquisitive said, “How much paperwork is really necessary to attend an interrogation?”

“As much as needed,” Rior said with a glare.

The inquisitive frowned as he looked gnome in front of the woman, and Rior’s frustrated face, “I feel like I’m missing something here.”
“Communication barrier; she doesn’t speak common.” Paron started. “We were trying to find something in comm—oh sorry, that is a terrible pun…anyway that we can speak. The only one we think might work is Elvish. “

“Really? Your lucky day, I can speak that,”

“Of course _you_ would.” Rior groaned.

*Notes:*
So...how common is common?  Right now it is about how much english is to old english...generously speaking.

And if you haven't noticed; most of the languages are actually touched up Google Translate of real languages.  Except old english; apparently you need to go elsewhere for that


----------



## Nthal

Questions of Fact - 10/26/2020​
My knees ached and my arms were tired from being bent in the odd position. But the worst part was the circular nature of the questions over and over and over, in Elvish. And while I was good with the language, it wasn’t my native tongue, so I struggled a bit trying to communicate effectively. And I suspected the dwarf might have been in the same position. Not that it mattered much; nothing I said helped. The only thing they took as a ‘correct’ answer was my name. Practically everything else was ‘wrong’ by comparison.

“Who do you work for?”

“What nation are you from?”

“What is your mission?”

“Who did you murder here?”

Over and over I answered to their dissatisfaction. They wouldn’t let me ask any either, as every time I tried, I was slapped on the back of my head by a dwarf behind me.

The one that questioned me wasn’t so much of a problem, and nor was the gnome who was intent on writing everything down. It was clear that the one on the tall chair was in charge and he wasn’t happy with my answers. His tone carried as he demanded his peer to ask me the same questions over and over. The dwarf asking the questions, seemed more even tempered and seemed to listen, but that didn’t stop the repeated questioning. As for the gnome, he seemed to make observations, and didn’t ask anything. Something else I picked up on was there was strong tension between the two dwarves. But it seemed that it was the seated dwarf that was much more visible about it, the dwarf interrogating me was more fuming about the other dwarf, but otherwise didn’t argue. Finally, the stalemate changed.

“Someone sent you on a mission here! Who is it? Why hide it?” The even tempered one asked.

“I am not hiding anything; I wasn’t sent here on a mission. Just let me ask—OUCH” I said as I was slapped on the back of my head once again.

The dwarf on the chair, slammed down his hand, and stood up suddenly, his hatred for me clearly written on his face. He walked by to leave the room, when he was asked a question by the other dwarf. He barked something back and then left the room, slamming the door behind him. I hung my aching head in exhaustion; I had no idea how long I had been there, and I hadn’t had anything to eat.

“So…Myrai. What are you? You aren’t a human, correct?” the remaining dwarf asked, a question that had not been brought up before.

I lifted my head to look at the dwarf. His tone was more of curiosity and less a demand.

“The term is _ha’celas._ A descendant of a _celas_,” I said trying to be helpful, but lost on how I could do so.
The dwarf frowned and looked at the gnome, who fiddled with a yellow crystal from his pouch. The gnome looked up and frowned and shook his head. Sighing, the dwarf turned back to me.

“Alright, where were you born?”

“Sigil,” I said and the blank look on his face told me everything. “You might know it as a different name; the ‘City of Doors’. Sometimes it’s referred to as ‘The Birdcage’ or the just ’The Cage’. Looking at him, I could tell that my answers didn’t mean anything, but he persisted.

“Alright, why is it called…the City of Doors?” he asked looking at me.

“Because there, it is said you can find a portal to anywhere. To Mount Celestia, to Baator, a Prime like this one. Once you find a door, you just need the right key to open it.”

“And…where is this city?”

“The Outlands…floating on top of the Spire,” I said not thinking much about it.

“A Spire…a feyspire?” he asked.

I looked up in confusion, “I…don’t know what that is. I’ve never heard it called that.  It's a giant needle in the landscape, miles high.”

“Ok…what about those other places…like Baator. What’s Baator?”

I thought to myself he was truly clueless as I lowered my head shaking it, “Most primes call it the Nine Hells,”

“And what are they?”

_What?_

My head snapped up in confusion, “You don’t know what the…can I ask some questions without being hit?” even as I started asking, he raised his hand to stop the head slap I was going to receive. The dwarf nodded looking at me intently.

“The Nine hells...or Baator, are where souls go to be punished for evil they committed. Where do your souls go?”

The dwarf looked confused, “All souls, all the dead go to Dolurr. I have never heard of any other place.”

“Do you know anything about the planes at all?”

The dwarf was about to answer, when the Gnome spoke up. The dwarf nodded and turned to me. “I am not familiar with the Orrey, but he is, “and he nodded his head at the gnome. “He can understand what you are saying.”

I nodded, “Have you heard of any of these things? Caceri? Ysgard? Automata? Limbo?” and in response I saw from both of them was the same; neither had.

“What about…” I gulped afraid to mention names, but I gave in, “Asmodeus? Demogorgon? Lloth? 
Kelemvor? Corellon Latherion? Moradin? Any of those names?” And to my surprise, none of the names had any meaning. I could understand the demons and devils, maybe not the elven gods. But a dwarf not knowing Moradin?

_How far am I?_

“What planes do you know of?”

After a moment conferring with the gnome, he started reciting some names; “Irian, Mabar, Syrania, Risia, Fernia, Shavarath, to name a few and of course the Astral which binds us around the world.”

I gulped, “What’s the name of the world?”

The dwarf and the gnome looked at each other and looked back at me confused.

“I take it, this place…is not Faerûn or Toril.”

“No…the name of the world is Eberron.”

I would not have called myself an expert on all the primes, but this was one I didn’t know.

“I guess I fell a lot farther than I imagined,” I said, again receiving expressions of confusion. “I was on an island in Faerûn. There I was working with my friends to escape and they created a portal to the mainland. But I was pushed into a well, and fell into a portal…here.”

“A_ different_ world?”

I nodded, “In Sigil we know of many worlds, Ortho, Athas, Krynn, Oerth, Abier, Toril…and there are many more I don’t know the names to. All with people and cities that have barely heard of one another. But some places are hard to reach, or seldom travelled. Krynn is one such place…I wonder if Eberron is one too.”

The dwarf knelt next to me and looked me in the eyes, “Let’s pretend I needed to prove that…how could I do so?”

I thought a moment, “Well, you need to find a planeswalker who could confirm what I am telling you. But how would you find…” I said, and the door behind me opened with the sound of several people entering behind me.

The dwarf looked down sadly at me, “Look, I will see what I can do. But understand…for what’s about to happen…I’m sorry.”

I was confused, but not for long. I felt a large hand pull on my hair, forcing my head back. Staring upwards I started to panic as a dwarf started to force the end of a funnel into my mouth. I instinctively clamped my jaw shut and tried to twist and turn to get away. In response another dwarf, pinched my nose shut, and I felt the butt of a weapon slam into my exposed abdomen, forcing me to open my mouth and gasp for air. Once open, it was over. Someone shoved the funnel in, and I was forced to swallow a sharp bitter liquid. I swallowed several mouthfuls all in a desperate effort to clear my throat and breathe. Finally, they removed the funnel and their grip on me.

I slumped forward, coughing, feeling ill and woozy. I slowly looked up at the dwarf in charge, who was already reseated on his chair. When he finally spoke, I had a good guess on what he said:

“Leafa us start aganwe,”

Vernan watched as they carried out the unconscious woman…no Myrai…back to her cell. Vernan knew he was a good inquisitive for a simple reason; his gut was rarely wrong. And right now, his gut told him two things, that Rior was missing the entire picture on this woman, and the whole treatment of her seemed over the top. Something was amiss, but it wasn’t clear yet what.

“This has been a useless day,” Rior grumbled. “She is either the most proficient liar, or she is an idiot. A couple more rounds and she’ll break.”

Vernan looked at Rior and calmly stated, “I don’t think she’s lying.”

“Why?” Rior looked at Vernan with contempt. “Because she told you a fanciful story of a city floating on a needle? That she fell out of a portal? She probably doesn’t even have the skills of an apprentice mage wright.”

“Then why make something that ludicrous up?” Vernan retorted. “It clearly isn’t distracting you, and she 
clearly isn’t changing her answers.”

Rior stood up and walked to the door, “This is why I am the head of security and you are just an inquisitive. We’ll let her stew tonight and start again at second bell. Then we’ll break her.” He barely regarded Vernan, and barely nodded at Paron as he opened the door to exit the room, when Vernan asked; “And if her answers don’t change?”

“I can afford to send her to Dreadhold with that Boromar. Out of sight, out of mind,” and Rior walked out the door and slammed it behind him.

The pair looked at each other and both sighed when Paron spoke up first, “I agree with your assessment. And I am very curious on what I heard. The implications are fascinating. But I fear it will not make much of a difference in Rior’s mind. It’s just an interesting story right now.”

“Throwing around threats of the Dreadhold is a bit much. What’s this about a Boromar?”

“Oh, about a week ago, there was a heist on the Lightning rail—”

“—What running on the conductor line?”

“Hmm…no, in station. And because of that, it is Soldorak’s problem.”

“I hadn’t heard of this.”

“That’s not surprising, he’s tried very hard to keep it quiet. So, sending a prisoner there, keeps it that way.”

“Very pricey way to solve it.”

Paron shrugged, “Well, I have to file copies of the interrogation…might have a friend look at some of the notes. What about you?”

“I’m going to meet a friend for tea,” Vernan said.

“Tea? That doesn’t sound like your style.”

“It isn’t, but I go where the drinker is. Nice to see you again Paron,” and Vernan left the room leaving the puzzled Sivis scribe behind.

Paron frowned, and picked up his book, and exited the room, turning over the events in his head as he wandered through the corridors. Finally, he exited the front gate of the garrison, and into the afternoon air of Krona Peak. He quickly hurried along the thoroughfare, passing the storekeepers and carts being pushed and pulled to far off destinations in the city. As he walked, he kept thinking:

_New planes? New cities? Entire worlds? This cannot be new information._

But while Paron loved a good mystery, the resources for personal research were somewhat limited in the Peak. But he did know someone that might be able to do some legwork for him. Smiling to himself, he made his way on the busy street, until he came to a large square building, with a silver globe perched on top. He quickly ducked into an alley and circled to the back of the building, until he came to a blank section.

He then took out a yellow crystal and holding it tightly, he touched the stone with it. The crystal flared to life with a green glow, and Paron d’Sivis walked into the hidden back entrance of the House of Scribing messaging station. The room that he entered was known as the ‘Low Room’ and was a haphazard collection of files and bins. A storage area for unimportant messages, that would be disposed of when convenient. The area was dimly lit; just enough to read by without tiring the eyes.

Walking out of the Low Room, Paron entered the heart of House Sivis’ business, the ‘Message Room’, which held four Speaking Stones. Also, dimly it, it was isolate away from the counters where the exchange of coin and script occurred. It all allowed the marked heirs quiet as they performed their duties for the House of Scribing. During the height of the Last War, all four would be occupied by a Sivis heir to communicate across Khorvaire. But today only a single heir was present, dutifully transmitting a stack of messages.

Paron sat down at a stone, and pulled out a yellow shard from a pouch, and slotted it into to a receptacle in the station. It began hum as it drew power from the shard.

“You *ARE* going to help with the queue, Paron?” the hard working Sivis heir asked as he pulled another message from the stack next to him.

“Of course, Benfiq. I just need to send a quick message to Korranberg.” Paron said as he stone began to pulse.



Siting at a table, a raven haired, blue eyed half elf poured a cup of tea from a boiling pot. The table was one of a number sitting on a veranda overlooking the streets of Krona Peak. The sun was setting and the warm orange glow in the east, made her smile as she thought of home, far from the bustle of industry. But here in the “Krona Sky and Stone,” a small teahouse, at the top of an old guard tower overlooking the city, the bustle was far away. Below in the valley she saw the hoop of lightning flare to light, as the engine of the Lightning Rail roared to life, and the evening train started to depart. Perhaps she was being silly, but seeing the ring of lightning like that, gave her pleasant chills every time she saw it. And she made a point of seeing it every morning before she started work, and every evening when she started her own projects. She sipped her tea, as she looked over notes in a binder.

“Six found, and only…Vernan?” She greeted the dwarf coming up the steps of the teahouse. “My this is a surprise…I thought only true expats came here.” She said smiling, closing her notes, and smoothing out her velvet blue dress.

“There are some teas that rival the best stouts for complexity in taste, Melisandre. But they don’t have the same…charm,” the dwarf smiled, and pulled up a seat next to the half-elf. “You’ve been busy trying to keep Taryn’s dream alive eh?”

“You know better than that; it is his uncle’s dream. Otherwise Kundarak couldn’t pursue it. But I am proud to have found almost all the specialists I need for a small war,” and she took a sip of tea. 

“Somehow, I don’t think you are the type to march and beat off a horde of Jhorash'tar, and I don’t recall you needing a job…yet. So, what brings you to my aerie?” as she gestured at the open teahouse, as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, scattering red and orange light across the clouds.  “Something odd, and I needed an expert…consultation.” Vernan said.

Melisandre arched an eyebrow, “Depending on the consultation, that might cost a bit.”

Vernan smiled, “This isn’t about House Medani business…really.” He said trying to assuage Melisandre’s suspicions, as he leaned over to the steaming pot, and poured out some tea into a mug. “And I’ll even pay for the pot as I warm, me bones.”

“At the very least,” the half-elf said coolly. “So…out with it.”

“I ran into a word I hadn’t heard before in Elvish…and you are the most…devious person with letters, so I thought I would ask you.”

Melisandre looked at the dwarf intrigued, “Elvish is an old language…the Aereni know it from birth, we Khoravar have to learn it. But it doesn’t change much. So…what’s the word.”

Vernan took a sip of the tea, savoring the warmth and spice, and sighed. “That is a nice one…anyway the word is ‘Ha-Celas.’ What does it mean exactly?”

Melisandre cocked her head in surprise. “That’s an old word. It’s still in use, but little need for it. Where did you hear that….oh. The recent bar crasher said it, didn’t she?” She said catching Vernan’s smirk. “Well the meaning is literally translated as ‘Blooded of the Celestial host,’ but the term refers to a very rare people; Aasimar.”

“A what?”

“Very rare beings; ones that have all that is holy suffused into a mortal soul. Another word for them is Angelkin…but again, rarely used.”

“How rare?”

“I have only heard of one by name,” Melisandre said thinking a moment. “One named Lorrister, a Prince of Lhazaar. Commands the _‘Heavenly Fleet’_ and is the smallest of the fleets in Lhazaar. It’s said that a pair of them may live a long lifetime and never meet another, if that helps.”

Vernan frowned, “Well, she may the second you have heard of, or at least she claims to be one. But you are right she probably doesn’t know him.”

“Why do you say that my dear friend?”

“Because she claims to have come from…somewhere else,”
Melisandre looked across her cup at the dwarf, her eyes narrowed her lips pursed. “I know I may be asking a bit much and treading into…business here. But where exactly?”

Vernan noted the sudden interest and was concerned. Melisandre was in the business of protection and safeguarding. And while her recent job was a recruiter for a scion of House Kundarak, she was still a member of the House of Warning. But Vernan trusted her, ever since they met in Sharn ten years ago. All because any information was kept safe with her, and she traded back what could. But most importantly, his gut trusted her.

“A city she describes as having doors to anywhere. She called it ‘Sigil.’”
Melisandre put down her cup, and placed her hand beneath her chin, staring at the Dwarf intently. “Do you believe her?” she asked cautiously.

“I do…but I can’t prove what she claims. I have only one thing that makes me believe it, and it isn’t enough.”

“What is that?”

“I have spoken Elvish with captains of Lyrandar, Aereni, and country Khoravar. But I have never heard an Elven accent like hers. Even the phrasing is off here and there. And she doesn’t speak it badly at all, but it’s notable.”

Melisandre said nothing as she stared at Vernan. The stars now started to reveal themselves within the holes in the cloud cover, and a pair of moons started to light up the sky. She took a deep breath and leaned forward towards the dwarf.

“Vernan, I need to ask you a favor,” she said quietly, almost conspiratorially.

Vernan reciprocated and leaned forward and lowered his voice, “This is a first from you.”
Melisandre nodded, “Stay close to her…and if she asks in your presence for anything, no matter how small, make sure she gets it. And I mean _anything._”

“I want to help her but—”

“Just do as I ask…please. I believe it will help her. And you *must* help her.”
Vernan nodded and kept his eyes locked on Melisandre, “You know something…who is she?”

Melisandre leaned back, “Honestly I don’t know who she is. But I do know you need to do this for me.” And the half-elf stood, stretching her limbs and then straightening her velvet blue dress. “I have some letters to write tonight…thank you for visiting me Vernan.” And she turned to walk back inside the tea house, but not before turning and saying, “Remember the pots on you!” leaving behind the dwarf, wondering if he was out of his depth.

Melisandre headed down the stairs of the tower in thought. And as she pulled up her hood to cover her long dark tresses, she muttered to herself, as her boot heels clicked on the stone in the night air.

“In a city of the bones of the earth, one of the heavens may ask for succor of a stoneman from afar. If granted before a passage to an island distant, the path forward is certain.’ The board is almost set…soon very soon…”


----------



## Azkorra

Being an Eberron aficionado I have to say this starts out very intriguing. Keep the good stuff rollin'.


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## Nthal

Azkorra said:


> Being an Eberron aficionado I have to say this starts out very intriguing. Keep the good stuff rollin'.




Thank you, I hope to do the intrigue justice writing wise


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Great to see you starting a new story Nthal - and even better to see it's a continuation of Myr's story.

A highly entertaining and very intriguing opening.  

And I know next to nothing about Eberron - so I'm hoping that Myr will receive a full education about it, so that I can too. 

Looking forward to more.


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## Nthal

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Great to see you starting a new story Nthal - and even better to see it's a continuation of Myr's story.
> 
> A highly entertaining and very intriguing opening.
> 
> And I know next to nothing about Eberron - so I'm hoping that Myr will receive a full education about it, so that I can too.
> 
> Looking forward to more.




Eberron is easily one of my favorite published settings.  But with Myr being a newcomer does allow for some education on the nature of the world, its nations, power groups, and its peoples.

Enjoy the ride!


----------



## Nthal

Dark Places of Salvation - 11/1/2020​

I awoke in my cell feeling ill. Sitting up hastened that feeling past queasy and straight to nauseous. I scrambled over to the hole that was my latrine, and heedless of the odor, I stuck my head inside and vomited. It wasn’t like I had much to give out, beyond remnants of the potion and whatever bile was deep within me. So, the dry heaving accomplished little. But in between breaths, I heard a voice behind me.

“Are êow myne alright?” said the voice followed by the sound of sporadic coughing.

Still on my knees, I glanced backwards at the door and didn’t see anyone beyond the bars in the door. Staggering to my feet, and taking care not to hit my head, I staggered over to the door, avoiding kicking a small tray on the ground that had some bread and a mug of liquid. I looked outside and saw nothing beyond the passage; just the door of a cell opposite of mine.

“I’m feeling ill,” I said in Elvish and waited.

“Ah, if you are speaking Tel’Quessir to cover up what you say from the Mror, don’t bother,” said the voice from the other cell stifling another cough. “They don’t listen or care, and I am pretty sure they have someone that speaks it anyway. Didn’t realize I had a neighbor till I heard you spill your insides. You’re new.”

“I guess so,” I said panting a little from my exertion. “They gave me something that disagreed with me.”

“Ah the serum,” the voice said sympathetically. “Swear it was meant for Mror only, I was sick for days after they fed it to me. And they learned nothing new for the stomach ache it caused. Anyway, my name is Iryn.” And the voice again was interrupted by fit of hacking, “Iryn Boromar.”

I nodded in agreement, and still looked for his face at the other door. “Iryn…mine is Myrai…just Myrai. I can’t see you at your door.”

“See? Hah!” and another single cough sound came from the cell, “That’s a joke. It’s all dark to me, and I am a bit short to stare out a window into more darkness. Stupid joke that is.”

“Too short?” I said feeling relieved to have a real conversation with anyone else. “You aren’t a dwarf I take it.”

The voice was silent a moment, “You can’t be serious.”

“About what?” I said puzzled.

“I’m a Boromar…*Boromar*,” and Iryn’s voice trailed off in another fit of coughing.

“Sorry…I suppose it might mean something to a lot of people. Let’s say I’m not up on who‘s who,” I said.

Iryn seemed to recover,“We are a clan of Halflings! One of the sixty great families of Sharn…and you *haven’t* heard of us?”

I smiled bitterly, “No…I’ve never heard of Sharn or—”

“—Not heard of the City of Towers? What rock in the Mournland have you been hiding under?”

“Ah…well, I’m from a long way from here…from another plane, if you know what that is.”

“Well…sort of. Sometimes someone shows up in Sharn from Syrania. Makes sense since its Syrania that makes Sharn possible.”

“I don’t understand.’

“Nor I; better off asking someone from Morgrave University if you want an explanation."

I nodded, and then I smelled something. Sniffing the air, I smelled something like smoked grape leaves. I Looked across the passage, and could barely make out the smoke leaving the cell.

“You have pipeweed?”

“Yeah, some kin made sure I got some and some matches. No idea on how much that cost them, but it’s the only thing in the darkness that keeps me sane, beyond the matchlight itself.”

“Is that why you are coughing so much?”

There was silence for a moment and Iryn spoke with a wry tone, “Yeah…Jorasco healers says the smoke is killing me. But the only thing that soothes it is more smoke,”

I nodded to myself and turned around, landing against the door. “How long have you been here?”

“I can’t say now. Think maybe a week or so. I tried to keep count, but…I don’t know. But I don’t think I will be here much longer.”

“Why?”

“The Soldorak in charge of questioning me, has already made up his mind to send me to Dreadhold. There is no way that’s going to happen though.”

“Dreadhold?”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised…it’s a prison. A prison that even the dwarves hate to guard. But it’s a place that only the worst of the worst should be sent. But truth be told, its whoever can pay for it.” I heard a guffaw and then he continued. “I should be flattered I guess, to warrant such accommodations.”

“I’d ask why…but that—”

“Robbed payroll on the outbound Lightning Rail. Its no secret, they know it, I know it, and I said it. But I can’t tell them where it is, because I don’t know. What about you?”

I chuckle, “A spy and murderer…and I owe someone for healing me.”

“Jorasco healer shake down. They certainly want to be paid, but your voice sounds too pretty to be a murderer.”

Smiling I replied, “Well, I have killed a lot…but not here. They don’t like my answers either.”

“Well, best of luck with that. I honestly don’t think that Soldorak cares. I’d give his boss a piece of my mind, but that’s not going to happen.”

“Boss?”

“Yeah, the clan in charge of security here is working for their bitter rivals, the Mroranons. And Urkiel Mroranon is the one in charge; but he’s busy doing something. Like he would believe me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Ah…well…the Boromar’s are well known…and some folks would say our reputation colors their opinion. Not sure why I am telling you that…but I guess you might need to know how to get around and know who’s who. But leave it at this; you don’t mess with the Boromars, or our business. It’s a quick way to the grave.”

I nodded to myself, “I get your meaning,” I was silent a moment when he spoke up again.

“I’m not going to bite…don’t mean to scare you. Frankly talking to anyone that isn’t a Mror is a nice change.”

“Can…can you help me with something?” I asked as an idea came to mind.

“From here I can do very little.”

“You can though. I seem to understand only a portion of the trade language here. Can you help me with the words? Elvish is fine and all, but I’d like to understand what’s going on.”

“Why not…where do you want to start?”

““Myne?’”

“Feeling.”

“Leafa?’”

“Let us.”

“’Aganwe?’”

“Again.”



Third bell had just rung and Taryn d’Kundarak leaned back on his chair in the Enclave receiving office, and glared at the large pile of contracts, and the smaller pile of receiving documents. He fervently wished he could delegate this to someone, anyone else. But he did author the deals, and he needed to make sure they were honored. Otherwise, there were going to be a number of very upset soldiers and worse a furious uncle. He rubbed his short cut beard thoughtfully as he thought about the implication.

“Not even a quarter of the herds have made it here. Debrika this is all there was from this morning’s rail?” he turned and glanced at his companion, another brown-haired dwarf with streaks of silver shot through it’s lengths. She was standing by one of many files in the receiving room and was occupied filing various bits of paperwork. She turned, and gave Taryn a cold stare at the question, saying nothing.

Meeting her gaze, he sighed. “Of course, it is. Late, late, late” he said glumly, and he turned to scowl at the uneven paper work, when a knock at the door sounded.

“About time Melisandre showed up…*come in!”* and the door to the receiving office opened. And in entered not the half-elf in a blue dress that Taryn was expecting, but instead a familiar dwarf, dressed in a long duster.

“Vernan? I thought you were busy on a contract with us…or are you looking to switch occupations?”

Vernan said nothing and set a small keg on the table. Taryn rubbed his hands together as he looked over the seal on the keg, nodding approvingly.

“Official business then. Is this to loosen my tongue or celebrate a fine deal?”

“Technically…it’s for Debrika. But I’m sure she’ll share,” Vernan said, causing Debrika to look up from her files frowning in disapproval. “How’s your gold mine going?” Vernan asked pleasantly.

Taryn glared at the inquisitive, “That’s my uncle Kaelin’s mine, not Kundarak’s. You know that.”

“Convenient. His sister marries in, and he gets the House resources, while he keeps ownership of his claims.” Vernan said mildly.

“The rules have been followed,” Taryn said pointedly. “And what does that have to do with your assignment?”

“Nothing at all. However, it seems that there is more going on that I originally guessed. But rather than bore you with the details, I just need to ask you about your prior position. I have some general questions for you both on how the contracts for the Dreadhold work.”.

Taryn was taken aback a moment. He then shrugged and said, “That was an unpleasant business I was happy to leave behind. The short answer, five-year contracts with provisions for renewals. They’re payable annually, with the pay somewhat front loaded on the first contract’s term.”

Vernan nodded and thought a moment before asking, “What about cancellations?”

“Depends on the contract actually,”

“What about the Soldorak one for Krona Peak?”

Taryn narrowed his eyes thoughtfully and again shrugged, “I understand that one is a bit complicated, because while it is with Soldorak, the coin for it comes from Mroranon’s coffers.”

“So Soldorak doesn’t pay it?”

“No, they do, _after_ they get funding. It was a compromise as it was originally written as if Kundarak had won the business. In that case it would have just been handled by us entirely.”

“So, if there was a cancellation on a contract, it would have come through this room, right?” Vernan pressed.

“Of course it would, once we get the notarized document from Sivis…wait…what are you thinking?”

“I think Mroranon is being taken advantage of, which is a breech of trust and a threat to Kundarak security,” Vernan said with a grimace.

Wordlessly, Debrika stepped up to the pair of dwarves talking, and dropped a binder of papers on the table, and with a strong right hand palmed the keg on the table, taking it down the hall out of sight.

“So much for sharing,” Taryn said mournfully, and he opened the binder and started to review the papers. His disinterest changed to puzzlement as he flipped more papers over. “What in the? In a single month, four contracts for Dreadhold were executed? And what is even stranger there are a cancellation notices for the first two; both one year in the future.”

“I take it that’s not normal?” Vernan said frowning.

“The cancellations are unusual, but not unheard of, although a year stay on a frontloaded contract is expensive.” Taryn said. “But usually a contract a year is high traffic. Four in less than a month? Unheard of.”

“Wouldn’t someone question it?” Vernan asked, rubbing his chin through his beard.

Taryn shook his head, “Unless Dreadhold complains about space, no one cares really. And there is plenty of space last I heard.”

“So, what happens when a contract is cancelled?”

“Well if cancelled, the prisoners are set free of course.”

“Where?”

“A port in Lhazaar unless arrangements are made otherwise. But that is beside the point, Kundarak is being paid here.”

“I bet. Are these the originals?”

Taryn shook his head, “No, these are copies; Sivis handles the papers in the middle and they have the originals.”

“Thanks Taryn. And good fortune with the mine; you’re going to need it,” Vernan stood up and headed to the door. Reaching it he paused and turned to ask Taryn a final question.

“By the way, when would be the next time someone would be sent there?”

Taryn thought a moment, “Well a supply run, and guard rotation occurs every month. Sometimes prisoners are part of it. In fact if I am not wrong,…the next run is three days from now.”

“Well then, I guess I know where I am going next.” Vernan said. “It looks like someone is running out of time.”



“Mona

“Moon. You are all over the place on the words. You going to remember this all?

I shrugged to myself. “I don’t know. But have to start somewhere.” I leaned against the door, and took a bite of the bread that was on a plate and swallowed some of the sour ale they had left on the tray. I grimaced at the ale’s taste.

“You know, I probably shouldn’t be complaining, but the food leaves a lot to be desired.,” I said still chewing the stale bread.

“I can tell you there are worse—wait. You did sip it right, not gulp it down?”

I had a sinking feeling, “No…why?”

“The Mror usually water down their stuff from the taps for guests; they don’t do that here…so you need to take it slo—”

My stomach suddenly heaved, “—Too late.” And I crawled over to the hole and started to empty the contents of my insides for the second time, although having something to come up made it liveable.

“Sorry about that, I’m going to get some sleep.”

I nodded my head in the hole, waiting for another round, panting with exhaustion laying there, barely conscious of the smells coming from below. As the nausea passed, I found myself laughing at the absurdity of everything happening. Escaping from evil slaving dwarves, to being jailed by what I guessed were respectable ones, all because I broke a table in the wrong bar. How could I not laugh at this?

I pushed myself up onto all fours, and I noticed something; the buzzing in my head suddenly appeared.

“Wait…” I whispered to myself. I then lowered my body again so lay next to the hole. And as I did so, I felt the buzzing in my head ebb. Then, I lowered my head into it and as I did so, I felt the buzzing completely dissipate. Pulling myself up, I felt the tunic I had been wearing, and found an errant thread. I easily pulled it away from the cloth, and with it in hand, I lay once again, with my head and hand in the sewer hole, and focused. I pulled on that part of myself that was me; not the strands, and I felt the familiar rush along my spine.

And there in the hole, the thread began to glow with a dim red light; the pain I remembered from earlier, no where to be felt. I flexed again and dispelled it. Now I was smiling, and chuckling. I lay there and started to focus on the strands within me. But this time I didn’t pull on them.

Instead I followed them slowly with my mind, feeling them as they spread out in the metaphorical distance. The strands seemed to twist and turn and then I found what I was looking for.

The strands were always connected to me, and they always seemed to stretch out in the distance forever. But I wasn’t the only thing connected to them. In my mind’s eye, I found where the strands, light and dark braided together on a shape; a cylindrical object. I reached out with my mind’s eye and grasped it and pulled.

My vision and nose returned to the sewer hole, with my arm extended down into the depths. I pulled myself back and rolled over and looked at my right hand. Clutched in it was a silver cylinder. Smiling in victory, I reached with my left hand and pulled a tab, revealing the metal sheets and the etched Celestial lettering within.

_The_ _Apochrypha_. The lessons of my lord Kelemvor, and all the ritual magic that I possessed.

I rolled over and pushed the cylinder back into the hole, and wedged it so it wouldn’t roll down, although if it came to it, I could just resummon it. Before pulling myself out, I pulled on a bit of the strand to clean off the filth from the sewer, but not so much that someone would notice I was clean.

I crawled over to the platform and stretched out on it, smiling at my discovery. And more than that my mind considered the possibilities, and a plan began to form. It wouldn’t be easy, but everything I needed was nearby. All I needed was a little luck.

And a lot of faith.

*Session Notes*

So...there are a lot of skill checks being reflected here in long prose.  We are really half way in a single day.

It's amazing how abstract the game can be, even when you role play a large bit.


----------



## Nthal

Breaking Out in Good Faith - 11/5/2020​
Paron d’Sivis poured himself some hot coffee just as First Bell rang. He sighed, mornings were usually quiet, as most of Khorvaire was west of Krona Peak and messages inbound would only pick up about half way to Second Bell. Still, the quiet in the Message Room allowed him to take care of small things. As a scion of the house, he was rarely involved matters that didn’t require the Mark, giving him some latitude on how he could allocate his time. As long as he was around for his assigned time by the Message Stone, he could do what he wanted.

He was about to consider exactly what he was going to do before Second Bell, when a gnome clerk approached him; “Pardon, but there is a visitor who is insistent in talking to you. A Vernan Galandrak?”

Paron looked up in surprise, “Show him in.” He sat himself at a nearby table and waited, for the clerk to escort the Inquisitive inside. Vernan looked much like he always did, with his duster and a smile behind his beard.

“What brings you here now? Aren’t we going to spend enough time together with that stupid interrogation?” Paron said resigned as he looked at the dwarf.

“Yes, a waste of time,” Vernan said. “I need your help though, and this has everything to do with the interrogation.”

“Really…and what is that?” and Paron started to drink his coffee.

“Can you get the billing documents for Soldorak, Mroranon, and Kundarak?”

Paron sputtered hot coffee everywhere and looked at the dwarf as if he had grown a symbiont from his head. “Do you have any idea how many rules I would be breaking? And the sheer number of documents we are talking about? What on Eberron requires that?”

“Because I think our friend is pocketing a bit of gold—”

“—On what proof?” Paron said, his eyes hard. “I can’t just take your word on it.”

“The proof on this requires all three sets of papers, I can order Kundarak’s—”

“—But not Mroranon or Soldorak’s Those are private—”

“—We really don’t have time—”

“Certainly, we do; the papers aren’t going anywhere. If you have a suspicion, we can file a request with my leadership and have a House team look—”

“—Paron, I am telling you we need to do this fast.” Vernan said fuming.

“What am I missing here?” Paron said putting down his mug and raising his hands mystified.

“That woman is going to be crated off to the Dreadhold, unless we do this now!”

Paron looked puzzled at Vernan, “This isn’t like you to get so…attached.”

“I’m not attached, but…my gut is telling me something big is on the line.”

“Your…gut?” Paron said slowly, his tone in disbelief.

“And I was asked to.”

“By whom?”

Vernan, looked around and leaned forward, “Melisandre d’Med—”

“Are you insane?” Paron leaned forward, his voice lowered to a near whisper. “Who *are* you working for again? Her or Kundarak? How do you know she isn’t playing her own game?"

"You know the answer to that! And think about this; both Kundarak and Sivis’ reputation is on the line here.”

“What?”

“If Kundark and Sivis are party…sorry victim, to what I suspect, it will be a black mark against both houses. Some might think…they were complicit.” Vernan hissed quietly.

“Does the Medani know about this?”

Vernan shook his head, “No…her interest was on the woman, and I didn’t know what I know now.”

“Flinders.” Paron cursed. He drained the rest of his coffee from the mug, before speaking to Vernan again. “You had better be right about this. I can pull a favor and get Benfiq to do some digging. If you are right, he is the right gnome to pull it all together.”

“I am. Just trust me.”

“I was afraid you would say that,” Paron said glumly. “Now, what are we looking for?”



The position on my knees was familiar, and yet no more comfortable. My arms ached still, but at least I wasn’t fed more serum so my stomach wasn’t on the edge of spilling its contents again. But this time it was different.

“Ask her again,” the dwarf called Rior asked in the trade language.

“She’s not changing her answer why are we—?” the other dwarf Vernan I thought, started to say.

“—Do it!” Rior then barked,

Vernan then sighed and then said to me in Elvish, “So who hired you to come here and spy?”

So different didn’t mean better. But having a stronger grounding in the trade tongue let me get a clearer picture on the dynamic. The gnome was only there to document me repeating myself. Vernan and Rior really didn’t like each other, although the gnome seemed to like Vernan.

But as our time together progressed, I got the sense that Rior wasn’t really interested that I answer the question. The more he barked, it sounded like he was killing time and that he had something better to do than make me suffer on my knees. Now, considering things, this was not pain and suffering by a long shot. The position I was in made me helpless, and probably would make a lot of people feel vulnerable. I just happened to have perspective on how much worse it could be. It didn’t mean I liked it. But it did mean I could deal with it and pay attention now I didn’t have poison coursing through me. And as I sat there, head bowed I heard something interesting.

In the trade language, the gnome spoke up, “You know for as much as you are paying Sivis on this, we could have just used an Eye of Aureon.”

_Eye of Aureon?_

“Are you saying I can’t interrogate a prisoner?” Rior spat back angrily.

“Not at all. But we would be done with this waste of time. I do have other work I need to do for Soldorak after all.” The gnome said wearily. As he finished, somewhere in the distance I heard three chimes of a large bell.

“Paron, that’s very nice, but the Eye is simply not needed,” Rior said his voice condescending. “Assuming what she said of her origins is true, she isn’t a citizen of old Galifar or one of the Five Nations. She has no standing here in Mror, and therefore no privileges to stand in a house of law. But I agree, this is a waste of time. Guards! Take her back to her cell. We’ll just send her off in two days.”

_Sodding Baator._ I thought as two dwarves grasped and released me from the t-block on the floor. As I stood, I noticed that Vernan was watching me expectantly. Like something was supposed to happen. I didn’t pay it any mind at first, but as the dwarves escorted me back to the cell block, I realized he was following me.

After passing through the halls, we entered a square room that was the entry point to my cell block. in the center of three walls were locked iron doors with bars at dwarf eye height. A single table was in the center of the room with three pitchers and four mugs on top of it, and two dwarves sitting bored around it on chairs. One of the seated dwarves, stood up and walked past me. They grabbed a metal key on a hook that was on the wall near the passageway leading back to where I was questioned. As he passed, I saw something on the floor. My heart quickened a bit, and I made my play.

“Vernan,” I said in Elvish. “Can you convince the dwarves to loan me a bucket, water and cloth. I haven’t had a bath in days.” I turned to look at him pleadingly and was surprised.

I was expecting any number of reactions, but not this. I saw him think a moment, and he looked around in…desperation. Like a compulsion had washed over him. Looking around he stammered.

“I don’t exactly see a bucket or anything.”

“That would do,” I nodded at a brass pot on the floor next to the table.

“That’s a spittoon you realize?”

I nodded, “And they don’t use it I notice.” Turning back to Vernan I said. “Please…it doesn’t sound like I have a lot of time left here.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment and then he nodded and spoke in Dwarvish. The two room guards and my escort started to laugh, and I watched as the seated dwarf poured half a pitcher of water into the brass pot and then tossed a rag on the table into it. He looked dubiously at the contents and said something in dwarvish.

The other dwarf had opened the door to the cell block and had already opened the door to my cell. One of the escorts grabbed the spittoon, and then they together pushed me down the hallway. Once they reached my cell, they then spun me around to release me from my manacles, while thrusting the spittoon into my arms and pushing me inside my familiar cell, locking it behind me. And in no time, the threesome left the cellblock, as I heard the block door slam shut and lock once again.

I stood there head bowed in my cell and looked at my prize. The spittoon’s contents were now mixing with the water, turning it a vile color of brown.

“So much for a bath,” I said.

I then hear across the way coughing and then “Myrai…back again!”

“Yes, probably for the last time. Sounds like they are done with me.” I said recalling what I heard. “Hey, do you know what an _Eye of Aureon_ is?”

“Yeah I do. It’s a big magical plate in the ground, that prevents you from telling lies. Tricky business with them. You can evade as much as you like, but most judges would see ‘dodging the question’ as guilty.”

“And there is one somewhere in this place…thanks,” I said.

“Well…I’m sorry about the new accommodations,” Iryn said. “I heard they nail you shut in a box with a small hole for food for the trip over. Course that might be an ugly rumor. Won’t be joining you though as my times about up.”

I blinked and put down the spittoon and moved to the cell door, “Iryn…what did you do?”

“Well…not all the weed was pipeweed. One of them had a bit of poison. Safe to smoke, but not so much to eat. I’ll be dead before First Bell.”

“Iryn…it…it can’t be that bad.” I said concerned, my plans of the moment forgotten.

“I was dying when I came here; my lungs shot. But I let myself get caught to let my kin get away. In exchange, my share goes to my wife and son.” And Iryn began to cough again, quietly.

“Why? They certainly need—”

“—Look I said I was a Boromar. I tried to leave. Tried to have a family away from the Clan. Thing is you can’t leave it. It wasn’t a big deal until my son was born. I want him to grow up with out the name and without the baggage. This…This was the price. I just wish I could have told her.”

I have heard this type of story before; a parent paying it forward in desperation. A better life for your kids than what you had. I couldn’t argue its seductiveness and while the cost in this case couldn’t be higher, I could no more judge his life, as much as I couldn’t judge his death.

But I wasn’t done with him.

“Iryn, you didn’t smoke all of the weed did you?”

“Hah! I would be green to my ears if I did that. Thought I was pacing myself for more time, until the Dreadhold came up. Why?”

“Well…if you aren’t going to use it—”

“—Nope.”

I blinked in surprise, and I probably sounded desperate. “I need it!”

“I am saving you from yourself. This is a nasty habit. Can’t have that on my conscience now.”

I chuckled and shook my head. “No…I need it. But I’m not going to smoke it.”

“So…wait. You want it…but not smoke it? You can’t chew it…it’s still got poison in it!”

“No, I don’t want to consume it either. I just need to burn it.”

Iryn’s cell was silent for a long moment and I was about to speak up again. “Well…as long as you promise you don’t imbibe it either way. Let’s see if my arm is any good. Catch!”

Quickly, I stretched out my arms past the bars ready to blindly catch something. I felt it bounce off of my fingers on my left hand, and I continued to bobble it from hand to hand. Finally, my fingers on my right hand closed on a corner of cloth, keeping it from dropping on the ground. I slowly pulled my hand backwards and used my left hand to press the bundle against the door, and let my right get a better grip. Gaining that I pulled it into my cell.

I moved over to my sleeping platform and opened it. There inside were three pouches of pipeweed, and a smaller bundle of wooden sticks. Each stick had a bulb of some type of rough material. I looked at these in confusion when Iryn read my mind.

“The sticks are matches, just draw it across the stone and it will catch aflame. New invention making the rounds from Zilargo.”

I nodded to myself and said, “Thank you Iryn. Thank you.” I had everything I needed.

I moved to the door and listened, and I could hear the dwarves muttering down the hallway. They were always loud. Loud enough that I doubt they would hear me.

I moved the spittoon and then all the bundles of weed and the matches to the sewer hole. Laying down I reached inside and pulled out _The_ _Apocrypha_. And lay it against my left thigh. I then took the rag and squeezed out the foul water into the hole, leaving it damp but not soaking. Setting it aside, I poured the water and filth out of the spittoon, and down the sewer, emptying it. Once done I took the cloth from the bundle and wiped dry the interior. Then I set the spittoon into the hole, and wedged it so it wouldn’t slip any farther down.

I then took all three of the pipeweed bundles and emptied their contents into the bottom of the brass spittoon, spreading it evenly along the bottom. I took the damp rag and wrapped it around my face, covering my mouth and nose, all the while trying to forget where it had been. I then took the bundle of cloth and covered my head with it, and spread it out so to cover the sewer hole, and with my head and arms inside.

I lay there, with a match in my right hand and I looked at it gulping.

“Please Kelemvor…let this work…Please just help your servant this once.” And I struck the match.

It flared to life, startling me. I knew I could do something like this with a pull on a strand, but I did marvel at the concept, that anyone could do this magic. No, that wasn’t right; it wasn’t magic. This was something else.

The match was half way down when I refocused on what I was doing. I then dropped the match on the pipeweed in the brass spittoon. Quickly it began to smoke and smolder just as I hoped. Closing my eyes, I started to whisper to myself. They weren’t words, just sounds of particular pitches and tones. I breathed slowly and began to weave.

The light and dark strands danced in my mind, as I slowly wove it into a circular pattern. I pulled the threads thin, and wove and knotted them, slowly and carefully. This was nothing to be rushed, it was delicate work to create a trap of sorts. I breathed deeply the air, filtered partially by the rag and the water within. My eyes teared as the fumes filled the cavity of the spittoon. It prevented the weed from flaring into a sudden fire as my makeshift brazier let the material smoke, and not turn to ash all at once.

I worked the strands, forming a pattern that I had made once before months ago. The strands to my mind looked like a web of sorts, but not one for a spider. This one had was like patterns of diamonds and with bits of strand loose at the knots to be toyed with. Finally complete, in my mind I moved it through the weave, like a net in water. I was slow at first, and then I moved it with greater speed. I kept chanting phrases and focused on the knots, tightening some, and loosening others.

Then I felt it, a tug. I waited a moment, and I felt the tug again, but this time less tentative, surer. Finally, I felt the strands being pulled away from me. I then pushed forward with the weaving and enveloped something. It didn’t fight like it did before months ago; it clutched and grasped desperately to the woven strands. I then pulled with my mind on all the strands that I wove, and forced them into my world.

I opened my eyes and blinked. There I could see the physical manifestation of the strands, now an ashen web. The web covered a black furred form, supine in the bottom of the spittoon. I watched as it shifted and I saw along the soft fur, wings covered in black feathers flex slightly as the creature took in a new breath. My eyes teared up in joy as I saw the slitted yellow feline eyes regard me with interest. And then finally heard in my head, words that were sorely missed.

_--Well it took you long enough!

Gossamer!_

I lifted out my familiar and clutched him to my breast in a embrace, crying in joy. The Tressym shifted awkwardly in my arms, half trying to escape, and half trying to find a measure of comfort.

_--Look now, I do need to breathe. 

Sorry…It’s been a trying couple of days.

--I am sure it was now…hold it. What happened? Why was I in a stinky pot?

You don’t remember?

--Remember what?

You being consumed in fire?!?

--Of course, I remember that, and then you summoned me…back…wait…no. You didn’t do that. I then…oh.

I had to recreate you…or find you again. Needless to say, I need you.

--So, the Duergar caught you then. Could be worse.

It is worse. I’m somewhere else. I know it is called Eberron, but that’s it. 

--This looks like a cell.

It IS a cell. The dwarves here, who aren’t duergar, think I’m a spy and murderer…oh and I didn’t pay a healer, I think.

--You? A spy? What did Iesa say about that?

He…he’s not here.

--What? He and that silly monkey what…’wound up biting the dead book?’

No…we were separated.

--“We” who is here with you and I?

That’s it. Just us…now.

--So you don’t know where we are exactly, we have no friends, and you want to what break out of this cell without a plan?

So, yes, not quite, and dead wrong. That’s why you’re here Gos.

--Well…what’s the plan?

I need you to get a key; its beyond a couple of doors, both with bar slots like the door in here. It’s hanging on a hook. There were two dwarves in the room, so you are going to need to be careful getting it.

--Well this should be simple, all you need to do is use the weave to-- 

That’s a problem. I can only use the strands if my head is in the…sewer there.

--Sewer…wait, you summoned me in a sewer pipe?!?

Well…yes?

--That’s disgusting.

I’ve been laying with my face in it, you don’t need to tell ME!

--Ah…right…sorry. Can you look through my eyes?_

I looked at the Tressym and concentrated, and then my sight shifted, to me. My hair was matted, and it like my face was covered in dirt or worse. The skin around my mirrored eyes red and puffy from crying and dealing with smoke, and my nose running. I quickly shifted my vision back.

_Sodding Baator, I look like I was at the bottom of that pipe.

--Might be a bit strong. Not as bad as you smell though.

Bath…need a bath…later. But yes, I can point out the key.

--But I can’t use it. I’m not that good.

Just get it. I have a plan for the next part._

I lay down by the sewer and pulled out the spittoon while Gossamer squeezed his lithe body between the window bars of my cell, and was quickly out of sight. I moved the spittoon aside, and after taking a deep breath, lowered my head inside and waited.

_--Is this it?_

I quickly shifted and looked through Gossamer’s eyes again, and saw he was staring straight at the key.

_Yes, turn so I see the guards._

Gos turned his head, and I saw the guards sitting at the table, their backs to the door to my cell block. They had now a small keg in front of them and they were certainly deep in their cups.

_They look near gone. I can’t help you here; you need to get the key and get back to my cell door. Take your time.

--Got it._

I lay and waited. Time of course crawled as I lay there, with a head full of sewer fumes. Anxiously, I was tapping my foot when finally Gossamer spoke up.

_--That was close. Here.

Close?

--The pair on the table, are light sleepers. But I got it. Now what?

Put the key down, and then when you see it move, look at the lock._

I then put my head in the hole again and focused and using a white and black strand, formed a glove and imagined my hand inside of it. Looking up from the hole, I saw the hand floating there. I concentrated and moved the hand between the bars and then looked through Gossamer’s eyes.

It was strange but it worked. I quickly picked up the key and manipulated it in my ghostly hand, and then moved it up to the lock. As Gossamer watched, I slowly and carefully to avoid making noise, I threaded the key into the keyhole, and turned it, retracting the bolt.

Sighing to myself, I grabbed a pair of bags that held the pipeweed and stuck my head into the sewer again. I flexed and felt the rush on my back, and I placed a dim warm yellow light on one bag, and then I quickly stuffed it into the second, blocking the light from escaping. I then grabbed _the Apocrypha _and stood up, ducking to avoid hitting my head, and moved to the door. I took a deep breath and pulled it open slowly, trying not to let the hinges creak. Fortunately, the hinges made no noise, and I was relieved to see Gossamer sitting patiently on the floor.

I smiled at him and I pulled the door closed and then locked again. Taking the key, I then looked at the cell door across from mine; Iryn’s.

“One thing at a time,” I said to myself, and I put the key in the lock and unlocked it.

_--Myr? What are you doing?

Keep an eye out. This has to be done._

I pushed the door slowly, again trying to prevent it creaking. I slowly opened it until it was just wide enough for me to slip through, and I entered Iryn’s cell.

He was laying on the stone platform that passed for a bed. To my eyes, his head was once shaven close, but now had a stubble of growth around the pate, as the top of his head would never grow any hair. His skin was loose around him, as the lack of food had taken its toll. He was struggling to sit up as his eyes searched the darkness.

“What do you want now?” he growled. And I instinctively put my finger to my lips and made a shushing sound, causing his face to contort in confusion. “What?” he whispered. “Who’s there?”

“Your neighbor has come to say…goodbye.” I said, and I stepped over and sat down on the platform next to him, placing a hand on his.

“You…you’re free?” he stammered his hand touching mine, and following up the length of my arm.

“Told you I wasn’t going to smoke it,” I smiled at the blind halfling.

“Damn it…you could have—”

“I still can…if you want. If you want to see your wife and son again.”

He blinked in the darkness and his body sagged, “Its too late for that…the poison.”

“I…can cure it. I’m a priestess of a…far away god. You aren’t beyond me yet.”

“If only I could see...”

I pressed the bag into his hands. “Inside this is a light that will shine. Open it carefully; its not bright, but it should suffice.”

I watched him pull on the draw strings, and he pulled out the second bag, now appearing almost like a yellow flame in his hands. His eyes squinted as they adjusted and he then looked into my face and I saw his expression soften into rapture.

“You…you…are…an angel…those eyes…”

“Part angel…my father was one, “ I said stroking his head with my fingers.

“I’ve seen one in Sharn…I would be pressed to tell the difference; except they were a little taller I think.” Iryn said reverently.

“Sharn has angels?” I said quietly. “I might have to visit I suppose. But let’s talk about you. What do you want?”

“You mean…save me?”

“Or let you choose your death.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Choose my death? I thought you were a priestess?”

I nodded, “I am. My god is…far away I suppose, but he is a god of death. As his servant one of my duties is to help those, with their life…or their death. You can’t really separate them. But while you don’t choose the first; you should be able to choose when you want to face the second.”

“So, If I chose to let the poison take me you would?”

“Yes,” I said softly. “And if you couldn’t end it on your own, I would…assist.”

His eyes grew wide, “By the Sovereign…is that allowed?”

“It is by my god…but it should be in accordance with what *you* believe. It isn’t for me to tell you what is right. I only intervene if asked, if needed, if warranted. And so, I can also cure you, and perhaps you will escape. Or I will sit with you until you pass beyond.”

“Why would you—?”

“Because no one should die alone…in the dark.” I said stroking his cheek.

He nodded and thought. After awhile he looked at me again and touched my own cheek. “If it is all the same, living means my son would…no. I can’t do that. But if you could, tell my wife that I love her.”

“What’s her name and how do I—?”

“—She works in an inn called ‘*The Three Black Dogs’ *in Sharn…her name is Peris…have a message brought to her there.

“I will do so when I am able Iryn.”

“Thank you,” and he gave out a sigh of relief. “It feels easier now…is that normal?”

“When you aren’t fighting for life, it is easier to let go. If you don’t mind, I will say a prayer for you.” I said quietly, still stroking his head.

“That’s…that’s…fine,” he said softly.

I placed a hand on his breast, and felt his heartbeat slowing, and I whispered to him:

_“No one should be alone, in life or death,

Death is part of life, not an ending but a beginning

Death is without deceit and has meaning,

All should strive to help those to live, 

So, they can die at their appointed time,

I will honor those who have died before me,

For it is their lives and deeds that give us the world today,

Bless this soul at his chosen, appointed time, 

So, his deeds will live forever,

So be the will of my Lord, and my desire in faith

May Death grant you peace.”_

I leaned forward and gave Iryn a final kiss on the lips, and I felt his heart slow to a stop, as his soul slipped free from his mortal coil.

I tucked the light bag, back within the first, and placed it in his hands on his chest. And quietly I stepped out of the cell, to see the judging eyes of my familiar.

_What?

--You have time for that?

It is a responsibility.

--At a time like this? I don’t want to be blasted into another ball of smoke.

Trust me…I don’t want that either. You stunk.

--I should…wait I did?

Burnt fur is bad. And you had a lot of it. Or did. Let’s move on._

I looked the hallway up and down. I could see six or so paces away the cell block door, and the passage of the cell block went farther at least three doors or perhaps twenty paces. Looking down the hall I saw more cages that could have held the strange purple veined crystal, but they were empty.

“Perfect,” I said. Speaking aloud, “Gos, go to the block door and warm me if someone is coming, but stay there otherwise.” and I walked down to the end of the hallway and sat down. I then pulled a tab from _the Apocrypha_ and started to chant quietly, looking at the door.

I pulled and created a lattice of dark strands and a single thread of light and wove it so the edge of the lattice covered the cell block door, and extended deeper into the hallway, close to where I sat. After some focus, I looked up and pulled the lattice strands taut, and I let the field manifest.

_--Hey, I can’t hear them.

And they can’t hear you either.

--Oh…I see what …or hear what you…or not hear what you…never mind.

Go slip through the bars and stare at the lock, I need to unlock it with the key again. Let me know if the dwarves are awake of course.

--Nah dead asleep. I am looking at it now._

I quickly created another glove out of the strands and placed the key in it and jogged down the corridor. I first stopped at Iryn’s door, and pulled it shut and locked it. I then jogged to the cell block door and moved the key outside the barred window with the ghostly hand. Shifting my sight to Gossamer, I quickly unlocked it. Gossamer turned to look at the guards fast asleep, and I quickly and noiselessly opened the door. I quickly shut it and relocked it, while still in the field of silence.

Without thinking or saying a word I motioned to Gossamer. I first hung the key back on its hook, and then moved into the hall that led toward where I had been questioned. I padded quietly in my bare feet, feeling almost naked with a tunic almost too short to be modest. But no one was in the halls to see me. On the walls I saw plaques inset into the stone in script I couldn’t understand. Frowning we continued until we got to a four-way intersection. Twisting around all of them looked the same. I stood there and had an idea.

_Gos, can you smell anything? Anything like food or smoke?_

Gossamer smelled the air a moment and then blinked at me.

_--Yes, left of here I smell smoke and I think meat…I’ll bound ahead._

I nodded. It was a good idea, as he was far quieter than I. He stayed on the floor against the wall and trotted forward. As I followed, I saw him come to a doorway and he peeked inside. He then quickly darted into the room. I followed and my mouth watered at what I saw.

This was a side storage room, with wheels of cheese, and small kegs of ale or beer. There was also an assortment of cured meats on a side board. On it was a lit candle, utensils and a couple of small bowls, containing white crystals.

Without a thought I grabbed a whole round of cheese and bit into it. The nutty smoked flavor was almost enough to make me forget the horrid food from the prison, and from the Lathander islands. Pirates were lousy cooks it turned out.

_--You are going to share right?

I need this, you don’t. But sure…in a bit. Watch the door, I need some time.

--To eat?

No…to understand._

Keeping the wheel of cheese under my arm, with _The Apocrypha_, I grabbed the small bowl of crystals, and I pulled it to my face and I stuck my tongue in it. I smiled again. My suspicion was correct, it was salt. Putting it down, I then looked at the candle and with a quick thought doused it. I then took it and crumbled the top of the wick. The soot fell into the bowl of salt. I returned the candle and with a whipping of a white strand relit it.

I then moved into the corner of the room, and set the bowl on the ground, while I pulled another tab on _the Apocrypha _and focused, pulling strands of white around my mind. Then I formed small webs and let them orbit with the strand, letting them catch what they needed. After a bit of time, I pulled the strand hard to start it spinning around my mind and I then grabbed the bowl and stood up. Gossamer followed in confusion, as I returned to the intersection where we started.

Once there, I looked at the plaques. What was once unintelligible dwarven script…was still that. But looking at the plaques I could understand their intent.

_--Ah I see. So which way is out?

Out? I don’t want to get out.

--What? I thought we were getting free?

We are. But the exit isn’t what I am looking for.

--You might need some more cheese…you seem to be, what I don’t know, out of your mind!?!_

Ignoring the Tressym’s rebuke, I read one of the plaques and turned what was the opposite direction of the pantry we found. Moving quickly, we came to another intersection. Reading them again, I smiled, and continued forward. I was so excited, that I almost didn’t hear the clank of armor as I approached a room.

Panicking, I pressed myself against the wall. I peeked in and saw a pair of armored dwarves talking. The room itself was rectangular, with a desk in front of an ornate door, and two other side passages leading left and right. The room itself had some murals on the walls, and a pair of suits of armor flanking the passages leading off. Next to the door was a plaque made of a shiny copper metal, with greenish lettering. And it was the plaque I was looking for:

*‘Urkiel Mroranon’*​
The dwarven guards seemed to be not at attention, but were rather paused on a patrol talking:

“I hear that they need more troops below.”

“Yeah, I heard that. I also heard that Kaelin Skolhanker is still hiring for his push to take back the Sieve. I heard it pays better.

“You want to fight for someone else’s gold mine?”

“Nah. I just rather stick an axe in a Jhorash’tar than the stuff creeping below.”

Frustrated, I leaned against the wall, out of sight and thought a moment. I snuck my head and looked past the dwarves at one of the suits of armor. The armor was mounted on some type of rack, but it held some type polearm. I grinned, and quickly created a glove and I sent it along the floor to the suit of armor. I focused a moment and slapped the polearm shaft so the shaft would hit the armor, and then released the strand holding the glove together, causing it to vanish.

What I was hoping was for some noise as a distraction. But what happened was even better than I hoped. The polearm, hit the armor, and then clattered on the floor, attracting both of the guard’s full attention.

“Cripes! What in the Five was that?

“The poleaxe slipped, it seems, help me put it back so it doesn’t fall again.”

Once their backs were turned, I dashed across the room, and grabbed the door handle to Urkiel’s office, and quickly opened it and slid inside.

The room probably was dark, based on I saw no shadows and no light. After Gossamer trotted inside, I closed the door to look around. It was well appointed, with a large tapestry on one wall, and a cold fireplace on the other wall, flanked by bookshelves. A desk was centered against the wall opposite the door, and behind it were an array of windows, looking outside.

I pressed my ear to the door, and heard the dwarves replace the polearm, and then they walked off, still talking to themselves. I hung my head down and gave a sigh of relief. I moved toward the desk and put down the bowl, _the Apocrypha,_ while I bit into the cheese again. I also tore off a small piece and placed the nugget on the desk, where Gossamer jumped onto and started to nibble on it.

_--The cheese is pretty good._

I looked out the windows to see the first sight of this new world. It was night, and the sky overhead was partly cloudy. My vantage point placed me on the side of a mountain valley, and I could see the opposite side clearly. The face of it was almost shear, as if an axe had cut a furrow in the mountainside. As my eyes travelled down the mountain, I realized that there were levels of streets on the outside of buildings carved into the face of the rock. The streets crisscrossed haphazardly ascending and descending at different points on the shear wall. Lights illuminated the streets below, and in the bottom of the valley, there was a broad avenue. Larger than many carts across, and lined with smaller sets of buildings as one got closer to the mountain. In the middle of the street was a pattern of round objects in a trench, and at various points, ramps and bridges crossed over the trench at three times the needed height I though.

This was a place carved, hewn and shaped from stone. It stood in contrast of the elven places I had been, where everything was grown into shapes. Here it was like the shapes were always here, hidden by the rock. While chiseled and carved, it was done in a way that looked and felt _right_. That the stone was meant for this path. Its beauty in its order, even among the chaotic striations of the rock itself. It was a wonder. As I looked upwards to the firmament above, I was amazed to see a sky with four moons peeking through the clouds.

“Wow,” I said mostly to myself as I sat on the edge of the desk drinking in the beauty, taking in a moment to eat the cheese I brought.

_--Yes, yes, very nice. Where to now?

Nowhere.

--You lost me.

We need to talk to the man who works in this office. 

--Huh the guards aren’t that smart it looked. We could get outside easily..

If I run off, they will hunt me down and throw me in that cell again. Look, I’m a stranger in a city I don’t know, with no one to call a friend. Where could I go? My things are somewhere I am sure but finding them would be dangerous. No, I need a fair chance to be heard.

--So how do you do that?_

I straightened my tunic, and I started to use the strands to clean off the filth and blood from me and my ‘garment.’ I rushed the strands through my hair, cleaning it, I then focused on removing the stink from my skin and replaced it with something a little more earthy with a hint of spice.

_Simple. I’m going to make an offer he can’t refuse.

*Session notes:*_
Good, smart familars are hard to find, which is why pushed for and got the Tressym.  Owls make better combat scouts, but that was never what Gossamer was intended for.


----------



## Nthal

The Bargain - 11/12/2020​

Urkiel Mroranon growled with frustration. There was always more to be done, and it would be early mornings and long days for a while. Normally filling a garrison with Mror was never a problem; the Realm Below had much to reward the intrepid and the brave.

Until Skollhanker started luring strong Mrors of all types, warriors, smiths, masons with the tales of gold from the Sieve. Gold fever had the Mrors aflame with greed and sloth. Hard honorable work below didn’t appeal as much as a swift march above for easy coin. Easy to lure battle hardened Mror with a share of a mine. A mine not touched since the early days of the Last War. You would think that nuggets were just waiting there, in easy reach in the tunnels. Nevermind that the Jhorash’tar infested the mine with their filth. But once done, the Mror would come back. All Urkiel could do was wait for the madness to pass.

But the work still needed doing, and so Urkiel had arrived early yet, before the sound of First Bell. The spring chill gripped the stone in its cold embrace. Few of the garrison staff were present, only the thin number of guards on the Fourth Watch. He supposed that his aide-de-camp Barnas wasn’t even in yet. But truth be told, Urkiel got more done the hours before First Bell, than he would with the constant interruptions of complaints. The Soldorak guards were never going to get along with the few Mroranon men still here on the surface. And while Urkiel was nominally in charge; the Soldorak were hired to do a job for Mroranon. And as long as it was adequate, he could ignore the complaints.

Urkiel entered the antechamber of his office he passed the still armor stands, and the empty desk of Barnas. And without pausing he opened the door to his own office. He stepped inside and sighed happily. The morning light from the east painted the stone walls, and slate roofs of Krona, in a dim orange glow. While the sun was still below the Iron Roots for now, by the tolling of the bell, the rays of the sun, would light up the stone and the gold leaf that adorned many of the buildings. Urkiel wasn’t really much for sentiment; but the morning glow of the gold made a Mror’s chest swell in pride.

But the view was far from Urkiel’s mind, as he felt warmth of the fire gently soak into his bones. The fireplace was ablaze with flame, its heat already spread throughout the room, and dulling the chill from the glass. The weather was always cool but for a spring, it was unseasonably cold. Urkiel unstrapped his hammer from his belt and placed it on the desk and was about to sit, when he realized something was amiss.

If Barnas wasn’t at his desk, how was it that the fireplace was already lit? Urkiel barely had a moment to think about it when he heard a stirring. There seated in a stuffed leather chair was the figure of a person curled up upon it. Staring a moment, he saw that they had hair like gold, drifting to below the shoulders, and lightly browned skin, a human female. In her hand was a book from his shelf, one that talked about the key battles of the Last War, and how the Karrns had overplayed their hand in fighting against Thrane. As he looked at her, he realized that she wore a threadbare tunic of a prisoner, Then she looked up and smiled at him, and as her gaze met his, he was suddenly certain of one thing.

She was no human. He saw himself in her eyes, which were like polished mirrors.

“I take it, that it is near…First Bell, correct?” she said softly in the trade language, unconcerned as Urkiel gripped his hammer with his right hand. “And I assume you must be Urkiel of Clan Mroranon…or did I have that reversed?”

Urkiel blinked puzzled, and replied with his own question, “You…you must be the one that we caught spying down below. How did you get in here…no how did you get out of your cell?” he growled, suddenly concerned.

The woman didn’t react to the question, and instead set his book on a table next to her. She looked at the Mror calmly before speaking again. “If spying includes falling and crushing a table, certainly. Otherwise not really. You _are_…Urkiel correct?”

Confused he stammered, “You are correct, Mroranon is the Clan name, and I am Urkiel,”

The woman nodded and smiled, “Good, I am pleased to meet you.” She looked around and straightened herself up in the chair. “I’ve been looking forward to—”

“—To what? Using me in your escape? You have severely—”

“—No.” she interrupted shaking her head. “No, I am not escaping. I am here to…make a deal…a bargain with you.”

“You are unarmed, and you are not in a position to make any demands.” Urkiel growled, narrowing his eyes at the strange woman who casually and calmly sat in his office. To his surprised, she nodded.

“You are right. I am not in position to make demands. Which is why here to make an offer,” she said simply, her hands folded in front of her. “I have no intent to run and hide.”

Urkiel’s anger settled and he looked at the woman with curiosity. “Alright what do you want then?”

“A fair chance.”

“What do you mean?”

The woman took a deep breath. “I have been a guest for some time, and yet none seem to believe a word I say. So, I want you to question me.”

“I have heard that you are concealing the truth of things.”

“No, I have not. And that’s why I want you to question me on the…_Eye of Aureon_. You, and the others, Paron and Vernan. They can confirm that I have not changed a word.”

“So, you said you wanted to bargain? What are you offering?”

“I will tell you on that same Eye, how I escaped your prison, and found my way to see you.”

Urkiel smirked at the strange woman, when the door burst open and a blonde haired, bearded dwarf ran inside.

“Sir! The prisoners! The Soldoraks tell me that the spy escaped! And—”

“—And the other one is dead,” the woman said startling the aide, who twisted around, and grabbed for an axe at his side. Urkiel then lifted his hand and shook his head.

“Suppose you know something about that?” he said evenly.

The woman sighed, looking down, softly nodding. “I would, and you can ask me on the eye if you like.” She then looked at the aide and then lifted up her arms and put her wrists together.

Urkiel shook his head, “If you were going to run, you wouldn’t be here. And I am curious…on what exactly you are going to say.”



Paron d’Sivis picked up his satchel and downed another cup of coffee, grimacing.

“Who overheated the kettle? Tastes like it came out of a—”

“—Paron! This is a catastrophe!” Benfiq said rushing into the room with a bundle. “Our own procedures made us blind to all of this! I suspect we are going to be buried in audits for years! YEARS!!

Paron sighed “Sadly yes. I guess we can take some solace that we found it now. Later it would be been much worse. Anyway, I need to get ready for that interrogation. Should be the last day of it and then I can help—”

“—Paron, sir!” a younger gnome; a new clerk Paron remembered named Ulden came rushing up with a slip of paper.

“What *is *it today…yes?” Paron replied annoyed.

“You’ve been summoned to the Circle of Adamant at once!” the excited clerk said.

“What? Now? Who sent the summons?” and Paron ripped away the slip from the clerk, and his expression became more puzzled as he read who issued the demand, just as Ulden voiced it.

“Urkiel Mroranon. It’s about that int—”

“What just happened?!? Urkiel wants to go back to war, not deal with common crimes…unless…Flinders! Benfiq, I am going to need those files now,” and Paron snatched the large bundle from his cousin. “And count on me missing my shift. This is getting serious.” And Paron started to rush to the back entrance to avoid the throng gathering for message services at the front.

“Wait!” Benfiq called, causing Paron to stop short. “You have a message that came in last night!”

“I will look at it later! I’m going to—”

“Its from Korranberg!” and Benfiq ran over to a bin holding received documents. He grabbed a thick stack of papers and ran it to Paron.

Paron put down the bundle and he started to flip through the pages, his eyes growing wider with each turn.

“By the Sovereign!”



Vernan jogged along the cobblestones toward the Old Keep. Naturally it took its name from the fact it was one of oldest part of the Peak. Back when it perched over the mines and overlooked the passes for marauding Clansmen looking to take the hard work of the Mroranon’s. Back before the Clansmen were subdued, and the Clans became princes of industry. Now the bailey stood wide open, and the hearthwardens kept the business of the city running. Vernan hurried himself inside and ran towards a wide tunnel leading under the keep. it was here that once the Mroranons settled matters of honor with blood in the arena. But now, the Mrors lived in a civilized time, and so the circle was now one of duels of words and codices and contracts. Here the laws were unbreakable, and they only sided with those who adhered to its letter. Vernan had only been here once, and then only to observe to understand how Mror justice worked.

Today, he had no idea what to expect.

The tunnel opened up into a domed chamber, at the top tier of a ring of seats, broken by a set of stone stairs descending down the arena floor. It wasn’t terribly large, perhaps twenty paces wide. And its shape and form heralded to days of grudges drenched in blood. The floor of the former arena was circular, with high stone walls, where spectators could watch the display But instead of sand and blood, there was now a disc inset into the stone with a stylized image of stone tablets, arranged like an open book. It was decorated with colored tiles and gilt in gold; a disc that charlatans and thieves alike dreaded; an _Eye of Aureon_. A disc where falsehoods were exposed, and only truth would carry the day. Around the edge of the ring were seats and a pair of tables opposed on opposite sides of the disc. On one side of the chamber, opposite the entrance on the first tier was the Throne of Judgement, before barristers argued and a Mror Adjucate decided the outcome. This was the Circle of Adamant, the court of law of the Mror.

The room already was occupied with onlookers, interested in the day’s proceedings. The crowd was sparse; it would take a murder or something sordid to fill the seats. Vernan made his way down the steps to the first tier, reserved for people involved in cases. As he did so, he was waved over to an open seat by a familiar face. Vernan quickly descended and sat next to Paron.

“This is your fault isn’t it?” Paron whispered. “I couldn’t even finish my coffee this morning.”

“My fault? I had a dwarf banging on my door just after First Bell, waking me straight to a hangover,” Vernan whispered back.

Paron regarded the dwarf with a confused look. “Wait, I thought you…then who convinced Urkiel to start up an inquiry? It would not have been Rior.”

“I have no idea,” Vernan said equally mystified. “Did you happen to find the—”

Paron waved his hand to shush the inquisitive, “Its all here,” and he pointed at the seat on his other side, with a stack of binders and papers. “And more, but I don’t see how that helps anyone right now. What on Eberron are we doing here?”

“I’m sure it will…become…clear,” Vernan said as he looked into the stands across from him. There seated in the fifth tier sat a woman, thoughtfully looking at the Circle’s floor. Her raven tresses loose around her bare shoulders. Her cloak was unfastened and laid on the back of the seat, exposing her blue dress. Her legs were crossed and her right leg was kicking back and forth. She then turned her head, and her piercing blue eyes locked with Vernan’s and she gave him a secretive smile.

“Vernan what are…what is _she_ doing here?” Paron whispered. Vernan said nothing, shaking his head, when a booming voice sounded from behind the Throne.

“All rise, for Urkiel Mroranon, Adjucate of the proceedings!”

The crowd rose, and Paron looked around at the floor puzzled. “Where are the barristers? This is an odd—”

“—Its an inquiry, not a criminal proceeding,” Vernan said quietly. “The Adjucate is the one asking questions today.”

Urkiel Mroranon, emerged from a door behind the Throne. In his hand he carried a large maul, with the broad flat head resting on the ground. Sitting down, he raised up the maul, and let the mallet head strike a bell, embedded in the floor next to him, causing it to peal with a rich deep tone that resonated in the Circle.

“Bring her.”



The dwarf Barnas opened the door in front of me, and gently nudged me to move. I took a deep breath and strode forward into the room. I was on edge; the room reminded me of several dueling pits in Sigil, but instead of spikes on the tops of the walls, or racks of weapons to be used, there were a pair of tables and chairs, surrounded by grey stone walls. Looking up I saw that the chamber was richly adorned with red tapestries that hung behind the small crowd looking down at me.

I swallowed, and continued forward, barefoot and still in the same tunic I was first imprisoned in. I had cleaned it and myself as best I could, but I somehow felt dirty, and exposed here. I was nervous; this was what I wanted. And yet I wasn’t sure how my gambit was going to play. It was a risk, as I knew nothing about the people or the rules. All I knew that this _Eye of Aureon_ forced the truth to be told. And I hoped truth would be enough.

I entered the arena and Barnas stood by the door, while I proceeded onto the disc in the center. As I did, I could feel a shift in the magical fabric around me. I felt a little light headed, and as I turned, I realized that even thinking about lying was very hard. The compulsion to be honest was almost overpowering and almost unnatural. Like a part of me that I could use was suddenly taken away. I faced at Urkiel, now seated above and looking down at me. I wasn’t afraid of him, but his position above me did nothing to calm me. I took a deep breath and looked up at him and waited.

“This is an inquiry, to answer a number of questions relevant to the safety and security of Krona Peak. You will answer my questions. Any evasion will be known. And avoiding questions will force me to assume the worst possible outcome. Do you understand?”

I nodded silently and waited.

“What is your given name?”

I furrowed my brow for a moment before answering. But I raised my voice so the observers in the gallery heard me. “I do not know what name I was given. I have called myself ‘Myrai’ for over twenty years.”

Urkiel cocked his head as he heard my answer, and then continued. “You do not know your own given name?”

“No, I was given to an orphanage, and if I had one, I was never told.”

The dwarf nodded, “And where was this orphanage?”

“It was the Gatehouse, located in the Hive district, in the city of Sigil,” I said. The crowd muttered in confusion.

“Sigil…and where is that exactly?”

“Exactly?...um…it can be seen floating over the Spire, in the Outlands, sometimes called the ‘Plane of Concordant Opposition.’” All to more murmurs and whispers.

“What is she talking about?

“She must be lying…”

“…the Eye?...”

Urkiel lifted and dropped the head of the maul again, sounding the bell causing the crowd to quiet down. “So, you came from Sigil to here?”

This was going to be complicated. “No,” I said. “I left Sigil months ago and was on…on a world called Toril. There I was pushed into a well and fell…and landed on a table here.”

Urkiel leaned forward looking me with doubt, “A…well?”

I sighed, “In the well, was a portal. A portal that drew me to here…Eberron. I didn’t call it; I didn’t even know it was in the well as I fell. But it is how I arrived here.”

“And you said this to the team interrogating you. Are they here now?”

I looked around, and there in the first tier, I saw the Dwarf and the Gnome sitting together and watching. As my eyes locked onto them, they looked at each other.

“In the seats, Vernan and Paron were two of them. The third I don’t—”

“*STOP THIS!*” a voice thundered and rushing down the stairs into the pit was the very dwarf who was responsible for my imprisonment. The dwarf pushed himself down past the guards, until he was standing, in full arms and armaments next to my barely covered self.

“This criminal has *no* right to be here! I demand she be remanded to me and punished!” he yelled at the top of his lungs in the arena.

“What, there’s something _worse_ than the prison you were going to ship me to?” I spat facing Rior. “All for your—”

The dwarf turned towards me his face red with anger, “I do not have to…wait. You are speaking the trade tongue now. How—?"

“Unlike some others here, I listen and learn,” I said taking a step forward towards him glaring. As my words echoed in the arena, I heard chuckles in the stands surrounding it.

“I don’t have to answer to you, criminal!”

“You do have to answer to me!” Urkiel growled. “Was she to be sent there and why?”

Rior’s eyes narrowed into slits of hate, before turning to the Adjucate. “Simple. She was a spy in an area for only Mror citizens—” As he spoke I could hear more muttering from the crowd.

“—I was not spying—” I said my hands clenched in anger, glaring at him.

“—She was indigent, unable to pay House Jorasco.” Rior continued.

“—I haven’t been asked to even pay a—” I interjected.

“—And she’s a murderer.” He said with grim finality.

The crowd was suddenly silent, and I could feel their eyes upon me as I stood there, my confidence fading.

“She had enough blood on her armor that someone didn’t survive. And that isn’t all. You killed a fellow prisoner, Iryn Boromar for his pipeweed. Your hair was found on the dead halfling this morning, and the weed was burned in your cell, all a part your escape plane, to avoid Mror justice.” The crowd again whispered at the revelation that I had escaped; that I might be dangerous.

“Your fanciful delusions are just dressing for a broken mind; a dangerous, deadly one. That’s _why_ I decided to send her to Dreadhold.” He said smirking.

I was speechless. Trapped by my actions on one death, and on circumstance on the second. And he found a flaw in my plan. While I supposedly couldn’t lie, I realized now that it wasn’t total absolution. If I was seen as someone that was barmy, it wouldn’t matter what I said.

Or did it?

“Yes. I killed Eridan bin Ahoone,” I said slowly, and the crowd’s murmuring rose again. “He was in ill health, and the crossbow quarrel in him was…” I trailed off a second and I felt the emotions surrounding his death wash over me, and my eyes started to water. “He…_asked_ me in the name of our god to…send him to his final reward. As a priestess of Kelemvor I had to honor his request.” I turned to look at Rior again. “As for Iryn, he chose his own fate, and all I did was let him go. I could have saved him, but he stayed my hand and—”

“—So, you killed him in the name of a false god.” Rior sneered.

I gritted my teeth and my anger rose. Without a thought I pulled on a light strand, “How…*DARE*…you!” my voice boomed in the hall, far beyond my lung’s capacity. Rior took a step backwards in surprise. “I am a loyal servant of my god, and you will *NOT *_mock _him,” and I then pulled a dark strand, and the chamber shook with tremors. Everyone looked around in alarm, wondering if the quake was serious enough to warrant escaping to the surface.

“I don’t care if you _think_,” I spat my voice booming through the hall, “that I am out of my mind. That you _think_ I’m a threat. But I am devout to his tenets, and to call my ministrations to the dying, murder…is *BLASPHEMY!” *I stood up straight, shivering in my anger and passion. My heart was pumping, as my blood coursed through me.

Rior was surprised but he swiftly recovered, “Simple tricks for a charlatan. It changes…nothing about your…fantasies, nor my assessment of you being a threat. Your stories’ entertainment does nothing to mitigate your danger.”

“Pardon…my Lord Urkiel,” said a voice in the stands. I turned in surprise and saw the gnome who had attended my interrogation had stood and was waving a hand towards Urkiel trying to grab his attention. “If I may enter the fray on the floor, I have…relevant information on this matter.”

Urkiel was about to respond, when Rior turned and yelled at the gnome, “Your responsibility is to document, not provide evidence—”

“*That* would be true if this was about a crime,” Urkiel raised his voice only slightly, silencing Rior. “But this is an inquiry, and where I want information, I get it. Please, Paron d’Sivis.” And Urkiel gestured to the floor.

The gnome made his way to the bottom of the chamber, standing tall and proud. He stepped in from of Rior and I and then spoke,”

“When the woman known here as Myrai kept talking about a strange city called Sigil, it seemed like a fantastical place, borne from the tongue of a bard telling a children’s tale and nothing more. But she was insistent on its existence, and so I decided if this was a tale, then someone else must have recorded it. I contacted a colleague at the Library of Korranberg and made an inquiry.”

The gnome turned to look at me, “Imagine to my surprise, to find out that her tale is true,” and the observers gasped.

My heart skipped a beat. Planewalkers _had_ been here before. I felt a smile creep on my face as he continued talking to the crowd, as much as Urkiel, playing up the drama now on display.

“During the Last War, around 956 there was a visitor to the city of Sharn, a rare species from Kythri known as a Githzerai. While I am not clear on the circumstances of his visit, he did stop at Morgrave University and had told a small gathering of professors of planes beyond our Orery, and he did talk about a ‘City of Doors,’” and he turned to look at me, with the barest nodding of his head. “Sigil.”

“Preposterous!” Rior growled. “Tale fit for a low bar and nothing more,”

“I would not call into question the learned members of that institution. Nor House Orien who I understood spent coin investigating the tales. And the information he left was verified by that House with magical aid. But while interesting, Orien could do nothing with what they learned. And with the War on, the Brelish, focused on matters at hand and the tale was forgotten by most. Except to a visiting scholar from Zilargo, who recorded it in his journal, which was donated to the Library in 973. But those are unimportant details.”

The gnome spun and looked up at me with a smile.

“Who is the central leader of Sigil?” he demanded.

I was somewhere between relief and tears of joy and I was never happier to utter her name.

“The Lady of Pain. She sets the ground rules and keeps the powers out.”

“Who is that person’s servants?”

“Her servants are called Dabus, they repair and fix the city,” my smile widening.

“What language do they speak?”

I laughed and a tear poured down my cheek, “While they can understand anyone, they don’t speak. They communicate in rebuses like this,” and I held out my hand and thought, and in golden shining lines I used a light strand to create a series of symbols. There on my hand I created three objects; a target with an arrow lodged in its frame, a piece of meat and a crowned male head. “That’s how they would say ‘mistaking’”

Paron turned to Uriel, “There are more examples, but I assert this is a real place, based on the evidence from the Library of Korranberg,” and he placed a binder on a table to the side.

Rior’s mouth was clenched, and then he gave a wide grin, “You understand my…reluctance to believe her. It changes nothing; she still was not where she was supposed to be, and your attempted escape is further proof of your guilt! It is fortunate that we caught you before you could disappear and cause more mischief.”

“Really?” my tone incredulous. “I escaped your cell because you never intended me to stand on this _Eye of Aureon._ You said, ‘I wasn’t a Mror and had no right to stand here!’” I gestured at the disc I stood upon. “So, I did escape and turned myself into a Mror who would at least consider listening to me. Because if I hadn’t’, you would have just sent me to rot in the Dreadhold.”

The instant that prison’s name left my lips, the chamber went silent. It was like I said something forbidden, or something so horrific that the mere mention of it was like a curse.

Rior didn’t flinch, he just stared at me with that same look of contempt, “I am charged with keeping Krona Peak secure. And what you had to say—"

“Perhaps we should discuss this further?” came a gruff voice, and I now saw that the dwarf, Vernan stood. “If I may, the House Kundarak has had an interest in the matter of security. But during my investigation of the risks the woman represents, I found something…unexpected. If I may?”

Urkiel rested his right elbow on the arm of his seat and rubbed his temple, “Why not? I cannot wait to hear this.”

Vernan walked down into the ring below and, took a spot in front of Rior and I, as Paron sat down on a chair near a table. Rior’s hate for Vernan was on full display here, but I was lost as anyone observing my fate today.

“House Kundarak was concerned very much about any breach of security here and asked me to look into the risk to their business. Listening to the woman, there was indeed a risk, portals in thin air? Vaults could be breached; defenses compromised. But what I found was far more sinister,” and Vernan walked up and he stared at me straight in the eye, with a look of distaste. I was going to interject when I saw he did something and held my tongue.

He winked at me.

“Now, there are many ways to compromise security,” he said as he turned to the crowd. Rior’s eyes were narrowed, as he listened, trying to follow the logic of the Inquisitive. “And in our experience in security, the best way to compromise the integrity of a fortress, or a bank, is best accomplished from the inside. Naturally, portals or other magical conveyances are well known types of breaches, that are looked for regularly. But imagine to my surprise that I found a very different kind of breach.”

He turned and looked at Rior dead in the face. “A breach of trust.” As those words escaped his lips, I saw Rior’s breathing quicken and his face pale. I was by comparison confused, as I listened to this tale.

“What I found was this. Certain people, criminals mostly would be sent to the Dreadhold. And of course, Mroranon would fund the expense at the…recommendations of security. They would fund the contract’s five-year term to Soldorak. Then they would ship off the criminal and send a cancellation notice to House Kundarak. Soldorak then would pay for the first year and some penalty fees. But Soldorak somehow failed to mention that cancellation to Mroranon and failed to mention that they were owed monies back, about half of the total five year sum. “

Rior’s face became as white as a sheet, and his breathing labored as he looked around like a trapped cranium rat.

Urkiel had leaned forward, fully engaged in the tale being told in the ring, his face grave as he looked at Rior. “I assume that you have more than a fancy tale here,” Urkiel said his voice seething.

Vernan nodded, “Indeed. After consulting with House Sivis, we…” his voice trailed off, and with that Paron jumped up and spoke to Urkiel and the crowd again.

“Yes…by looking at the accounts of all three we found all the connecting paperwork. By looking at only Mroranon and Kundarak accounts, nothing was amiss. Only if you look at Clan Soldorak’s documents in between can you see what really happened with the coin,” and Paron placed the second larger binder on the table.

“And who better to use, but people that otherwise would be unlooked for?” Vernan said with contempt. “Iryn Boromar was on the outs of his family and was dying. If he disappeared, his family wouldn’t look for him, and as for this woman? Insane or not, she had no friends to call to help her out. If they survived, both would have been abandoned somewhere in the Lhazaar Principalities, unlikely to return to Krona Peak counting their blessings.”

The crowd hissed in disapproval and the murmuring grew. Rior looked around for support, but even the Soldorak guards stationed there, looked at him with contempt.

“So, Rior. Is this true?” Urkiel asked the hapless dwarf. “Did you betray Mroranon’s trust?”

The sweat was now pouring from his brow. He stood looking around nervously as he tried to speak, “I…well…that is…perhaps…I should talk to—”

Urkiel lifted the maul with his left hand and let it drop again, causing the bell to peal. “This is your last chance Rior Soldorak.”

Rior’s back stiffened, and he raised his head, “I think I will wait for a…formal hearing on this before answering.”

“Such is your right, as this would be a…crime against coin and contract,” Urkiel said, his hate for the little dwarf that once stood defiantly before him. “Take him away.”

Two Soldorak guards grabbed their former boss’ arms, and led him down the tunnel, descending beneath the Throne. He never turned to look at me, and I truly hoped we would never meet again. Then Urkiel addressed me.

“It seems your visit here has…made an impact. But, by my authority as Adjucate, let me be the first to welcome you to the Mror Holds.”

And I heard applause in the rings of seats around the arena. The observers were standing and clapping…for me. I felt was overwhelmed with various emotions, relief exhaustion, joy. But as I turned around one figure caught my eye. A woman still seated in a blue dress, her long dark tresses loose around her shoulders, her skin a pale white, and she looked at me with piercing blue eyes. She was slowly clapping as she wore a crooked smile on her face, and she nodded as she realized I was staring at her.

“You…Myrai, owe us a tour of your escape. I am very eager to hear of it,” Vernan said grasping my forearm and shaking it. Paron looked at me smiling, “As am I. I think it took Vernan a month to break out of here the first time.”

I turned to look at the dwarf and he shrugged, “The best way to test it is to, get incarcerated. It is also how I got work from Kundarak; they respect thinkers.”

“Of course,” I said, and I summoned Gossamer from his hiding spot. At his appearance the pair looked at each other nodding with a smile. “But before we do so, is it possible I get dressed?” The pair started to laugh as I continued. “I feel like I ‘m going to show people more than they should see in this tunic.”

“Let’s get your things, and then some food.”



After getting dressed, I answered a lot of questions and I saw I had earned a lot of respect. Not because I escaped, but that I stayed and explained what I did and how. I apparently impressed a lot of them with my ingenuity and had them question many of their own assumptions. The familiar. The _Apocrypha_. The spittoon. All of it. And while some of the escape were only things I could do, they knew if I could, someone else might. But other things like where the key was kept, the guards, the patrols, the windows, and the sewer. Those were things that a dwarf called a ‘Silver Key’ was looking at and planning changes. However, his glares at me told me that not everyone appreciated my efforts.

Paron and Vernan then introduced me to the woman who healed me, Mylle d’Jorasco. I explained to her that I was an Aasimar, as that was the first question out of her mouth, just after the hug. And then I surprised them all again. While they all knew I had only a handful of coins on me, they didn’t realize I had a lot more wealth hidden, as I pulled several gemstones from…well that’s a secret. But I had enough to pay Mylle for saving my life, sight unseen. But she made an observation, and she was right, there was another person I needed to thank.

I ducked and entered the large hall of ‘_The Patternwelded Blade.’_. I knew I was underground somewhere, but the large open space was a surprise. Well lit, it felt bigger than the caverns underneath Lathander. It was nothing like the grim gray of the Duergar, nor the haphazard collection of bits of sea junk, like the drow there had scavenged for their casino. But what made it comfortable was the smell. I could smell the fermented grains and sharp tang of hops in the air. I shook my head and wondered, how on I never managed to go to any of the dwarfholds in Toril. I liked the beers, the ales and whiskey more than the wines and cordials of the elves. And here, I was in the heart of someone’s art and love. It was the closest thing that felt like the bars I once frequented in Sigil.

As I entered with Vernan and Goss flitting on his wings behind me, I saw the puzzlement of the regulars there, at the intruder to their retreat. I looked around, and I saw a dwarven woman approach with an angry face and a frying pan in hand.

“You there! This is a Mror establishment only! And no pets! How did you get past…the…no…it’s you!”

My hands were clutched together in front of me as I spoke smiling, “You must be Igneve.”

She looked at me in wonder her mouth still open as I continued. “I’m here to thank you for getting me to the healer, and I seem to owe you for a table.”

Igneve blinked a moment, and chuckled, “Now, we’ve lost many things, but I don’t recall losing a table in a more spectacular way. In fact, I don’t want it repaired.” And she pointed behind me.

I turned to look, and I started to laugh. There mounted on the wall, was a round table top. On it I could see the impression of a lightly armored torso, and marks of blood around it.

“See, ever since you spoke at the Circle, I had people coming in to gawk. Made sense to mount it like a trophy. Business has picked up once the guards left, so I can’t say fixing it really helps me much.”

I walked over to the round, and let my fingers run over the surface…over the dried blood that covered it. My throat tightened, as I knew that the blood wasn’t mine. I closed my eyes and whispered to myself, “Rest well Eridan.” I then turned around to look at Igneve again, “Well, I guess that is one way to say I was here. Well if I can’t pay to fix it, how about a drink? Something strong, but won’t kill a non-Mror?”

“That I can do! Give me a moment!”

“No problem,” I said. “Vernan needs to show me where I fell from.”

“It’ll be waiting when you come back down; you might have to tell us a tale or two.”

I nodded, and Vernan led me up the spiral ramp. It wasn’t a steep grade, but it did take a while to reach the top. And there as I expected was an opening, framed in stone. Sighing, I started to pull on a light strand whispering to myself. Vernan watched me, and eventually I opened my eyes and looked at the opening.

It was almost gone; the spider like cracks of a planar breach, had almost faded away. There weren’t any signs of twisting or decay, and most importantly to me, there was no knot or anchor.

There was nothing there.

I hung my head and pounded my fist on the wall. “It’s not just closed. Its moved. Gone.”

Vernan looked at me critically. “So, no one else can use it?”

“It’s not even a one-way portal, there isn’t anything to use. The other end could be fixed, but this end? It wasn’t. I passed through, broke the planar surface and fell. And then it must have moved elsewhere. "

"So, you can’t go home?”

I shook my head, “Toril wasn’t home. And not to say I wanted to go back to a den of pirates and slavers. So perhaps not being able to go back isn’t a bad thing. Still,” and I touched the stone frame of the window. “It would have been nice to have a choice. And there are…things left undone and unsaid. But, I swear the next time I get dumped on another plane, the fall is going to kill me.” And I turned and started to walk back down to the bar below.

“Well,” Vernan said. “I’m sure things will work out for you. At least that’s what my gut is telling me. You have a place to stay?”

“I nodded,” Paron gave me the name of a…Ghallanda inn, the ‘Gold Dragon’? Another House I understand, so much to learn. Anyway, he said he would get me a room there, and to expect a package in the morning.”

Vernan nodded, “Well, at least you aren’t broke. What are you planning to do?”

I grimaced, “I might stay here a bit, but I keep hearing about Sharn. I don’t know much, but Sharn seems to have a lot going for it.”

Vernan nodded, “Well, I don’t know how it compares to Sigil or Waterdunk—”

“—Waterdeep.”

“Whatever. But you could do worse than to visit. But it’s across the continent, so you might need some coin to get there.”

I nodded, “I guess a job of some sort is in order. But I’m not a miner, and I don’t know if fighting on the lines of a battle is…what I should do.”

Vernan gave me an odd smile. “I bet something will come up. Gold Dragon inn eh? Well I wish you well Myrai. Good luck!”

We had arrived back down at the bar and Igneve waved me over. Already a small throng had gathered to meet the strange newcomer, who’s silhouette decorated a table top on the wall. “Can’t stay for a drink? It’s the least I can do to thank you” I said.

“You’re welcome, but I can’t. I have a report to finish, and I have to meet…a friend for tea.” Vernan smiled, and pulled up the lapels of his duster, and left me to my new found bar flies here in Krona Peak.

_--Well, I guess this is a good a start as any._

I looked at the Tressym and shaking my head I scratched him behind the ears.

_New world, new challenges. I guess this does make me a planewalker now.

--Yeah, just ease up on the drinking tonight.

Not on your life. I earned this!

--Right..sure…we’ll see about that tomorrow._

*Session Notes:*
In many ways this was an interlude; a session zero or 0.1 for getting Myrai established.   But her's was a bit more complicated than the other characters, who were all generated and natives to Eberron.


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## Richards

Heh heh heh - "Waterdunk."

I'm looking forward to meeting the other PCs...and finding out the meaning of "The Thorns of Winter."

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

Richards said:


> Heh heh heh - "Waterdunk."
> 
> I'm looking forward to meeting the other PCs...and finding out the meaning of "The Thorns of Winter."
> 
> Johnathan




Got the first ones nearly ready.  Proofreading is the BBG of any writing.  

I have been running the personalities by some of the players and getting feedback from most of them.  But I intend for everyone to have their intro spotlight over the next two posts, which covers...most things.

And as to the title?  Soon...soon...


----------



## Nthal

Missives along the Rail - 11/20/2020​

The sudden light hitting my closed eyes were more than my feeble aching mind could handle. I squirmed and pulled the sheets back over my throbbing head.

_--Hey look. I’m bored. Get up.

Leave me alone. I hurt…a lot.

--Well you did *earn* it.

Please…no…I was wrong.

--*Really*? I mean I understood why you sang at the top of your lungs…

…The tune was catchy.

--Right. And the dancing on the bar?

Ah…well…felt right?

--Sure, but offering to make another broken table?

I did what?!? Did I?

--Heh, sorry no…I made that up. But you did need some help getting here. Igneve thought you were funny._

I reached out a hand and pulled on a pair of strands. Without so much trying to get up, a ghostly hand flew over and pulled a pitcher over to me. Looking inside and seeing it empty, I just pulled on another light strand, and it began to fill with water, which I started to quickly drink. After filling my belly, I used the hand to replace the pitcher, and turned over, flopping on my back.

I lay on my back and exhaled in a huff. The sun streamed into the grey room, carved into the side of the mountain. Most things here were stone or rock, but the bed had thick feather mattresses and soft pillows. The one stuffed chair sat next to a small fireplace, while a bench holding my scattered things were at the base of the bed. So, while the room and furnishing were functional, the trimmings were bordering on decadent. The cushions alone made you feel like you were asleep on the clouds, and the warm colors of the tapestries on the wall, were a perfect contrast to the grey granite that the room was carved from.

I lay there nursing my headache when I heard a knock at the door. I sat up too fast and clutched my hands to my pounding head. Standing up, I gathered the sheets around me, and walked over to the door, and opened it. There standing outside was a young halfling who I remembered meeting last night. However, his name escaped me as he spoke.

“Two things for you ma’am.” And he handed me a small package and a letter. He then made as if tipping a hat, and then moved on down the hall, before I could even respond.

“Thank you!” I finally stammered and shut the door, walking over to the chair by the fireplace and sat down. I was about to look at the packages when I thought a moment.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? I’m not old enough to be a ma’am,” I said aloud.

_--You sure? Might be a couple of streaks of silver in that gold mop of hair._

I pulled out from behind me a small pillow on the chair. I then handed it to my still floating hand and proceeded to chase Gossamer with it, beating walls, and furniture along the way. After a while I stopped and looked at the small package, tied shut with twine. Pulling on a strand, I used it to unwind the twine and unfolded the paper wrapping.

Inside was a flat box in the shape of a pentagon, with a small note attached to it. Both were set on a leather-bound book.


> ‘You might need this, as you aren’t from here. At least you are from somewhere!
> 
> ‘Paron d’Sivis’




I pried open the box, and saw inside a sketch of my own face, and a description reading:



> ‘Myrai
> 
> ‘Traveler from the planar metropolis of Sigil.’
> 
> Notable features: Female, Aasimar. Metallic golden hair, Mirrored silver eyes.’
> 
> ‘NB. Any questions about this document should be made at a Sivis message station, code 45462B.’






Putting the pentagon down, I looked at the title of the book ‘_A Guide to Travelling the Five Nations_.’ I opened it and thumbed through the pages and I nodded, mouthing the words, “Thanks Paron.”

Setting it aside, I then looked at the letter, which only had the words, ‘Myrai, Gold Dragon Inn,’ on the outside. I shrugged and tore it open. Inside was a piece of parchment that read:



> To Myrai,
> 
> Greetings! I represent the honorable Taryn d’Kundarak. Taryn is interested in retaining your services for a mission for a partner of House Kundarak. The mission’s objective is simple; return the control of a gold mine back to its original clan owner.
> 
> While your skills are apparent, you may not be aware of the alarm you have given the Iron Door and other Hearthwardens. Working with Taryn on a House matter may prove advantageous to you, as showing hard work, commitment and honesty will go a long way in securing the Hearthwardens favor.
> 
> Of course, Taryn would love to discuss this in person. Please take the enclosed voucher to the House Orien ticket office at the Lightning Rail before Third Bell. He will fill you in on what is involved, and you can discuss arrangements and payments in exchange for your services.
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Melisandre d’Medani
> 
> Research and Staffing




Inside was a sheet of thick paper with my name on it, and a embossed image of a Unicorn. I had picked up quickly that ‘d’ ‘in front of a name referred to a House. I knew Sivis involved documents and messages, Jorasco healed me, and Kundarak involved money and that Ghallanda ran inns. I heard the name of Orien at the inquiry but knew nothing else, but now here was a new House, Medani.

I shook my head and set the letter down on my lap, and muttered aloud, “This is too much, too fast.” But thinking again, I remembered where I was, and I smiled and said aloud to myself.

“A new world, and I am the only Sensate here. Why not?”

_--So…we doing something?

Yep, looks like I have an offer to do…some type of work. You wanted to get out…so lets go!

--Great. Fine. Better late than never._

I stood up and dropped the sheet and moved to my clothes and started getting dressed.

_One thing Goss?

--What’s that?

Any idea what a ‘Lightning Rail’ is?’_



I now understood when I stood in Urkiel’s office, on why it appeared that in the giant furrow that cleaved the city in two, why there was such a wide avenue at the bottom. From the distance, it just looked like a broad causeway. But now as I walked at the bottom, and alongside the center trench it made sense when I saw it.

It was huge; larger than any wagon or coach I had ever seen. Actually, it could probably contain many wagons inside of the carriages that floated above the stones seated in the bottom of the trench. But if the size of the monstrous vehicle wasn’t enough, the front section was amazing. It was moving slowly backwards to connect to a long series of other carriages. A device of metal and wood, and around it a ring of pure elemental energy. It encircled the front carriage in a pulsing arc of white light, that caused the hairs on my body to stand on end as it crackled and shifted like lightning in the sky. I could feel the tremendous energy with in it, and I stood there slack jawed in wonder. The effort and skill needed to bind such energy. To hold it all aloft from the ground, and to have more power left over to propel it down the path of stones.

It was breath taking. I stood there on the platform watching them load things in the rear most carriages, ingots of metals, crates, and kegs. All sorts of things. Far more than any simple wagon could carry as part of its cargo. In front of those I saw Mror and other people starting to crowd onto one of the carriages, which to me looked to be full of benches, shoulder to shoulder. There were other carriages as well, of increasing quality the closer one got to the front.

I also noted I was, once again causing a stir. But it wasn’t really me; it was Gossamer. As he flew alongside of me, he was drawing stares and whispers. I could only conclude that Tressym were unheard of here. But when they saw that Goss was flying next to me, it gave them pause, like they were afraid to approach me or talk to me.

This was the opposite of how it was on Toril; Aasimar were known and sought after. The number of blessing I was asked for in Waterdeep was proof of that. Here, I was of a kind so rare that…they did nothing. That I was funny looking was enough; the why was unimportant. But I couldn’t say it wasn’t nice. Being asked to ‘bless this’ just because of your parentage, not because they had some faith in you felt…better. I wondered how Tieflings or Genasi would be treated, or even if they existed here. And what other peoples have I not seen?

I put it out of my mind for the moment, as I approached a large building next to the Lightning Rail, with a green sign depicting a unicorn, with a scroll like banner below the picture that said ‘House Orien.’ On the side of the building was a window with several cutouts, and I approached it, a little uncertain. There behind the glass was a middle-aged man, reading through some papers. As I approached it, he spoke.

“Yes, there is some room; what’s your final destination?”

“I…sorry, I have this voucher?” I said and I pushed the paper through the cutout to the man. He turned with disinterest to glance at it, but his expression quickly changed.

“Oh! I apologize! You…” and his excitement and earnest stopped a moment as he looked straight at me for the first time.

“…You were saying?”

“What…yes. I apologize again; I’m being quite rude. But this is the wrong window; First Class is handled at the red double doors to the left. Can I get you a porter for your things?”

The change of tone was remarkable, and I was taken a back for a moment. “Uh…no, I will manage thank you.” And I turned and walked down the length of the building.

_Goss, what is ‘first class?’

--No clue, but I certainly noticed he pulled himself together after seeing that voucher. Sounds important._

I came to the doors that the clerk had mentioned and pulled on the handles and stepped inside. On the floor was a large mosaic of a white Unicorn, rampant on a field of green. There were divans and chairs with fine stuffed leather with small end tables. Several dwarves, humans and a half-elf were sitting each with a mug or glass in hand, while the room had a number of human sized metal statues in green tailed coats positioned nearby at attention. On one end of the room, was a bar with bottles and glasses while at the other was a desk, where a red headed young woman sat, flipping through some cards in front of her. I stepped over to her and cleared my throat to get her attention. She turned and looked at me with emerald eyes, and unlike the other clerk she didn’t falter in her words.

“Yes? Can I help you?” she said, her voice and tone well practiced and professional.

“Hi, I have a voucher for the Lightning Rail tonight?” I said, perhaps a bit tentatively, and handed her the slip of paper. She took it, without hesitation or any surprise with a simple nod.

“Ah yes, you are expected Myrai,” she said sweetly, surprising me with the use of my own name. “My name is Vanna. Your steward will come for you when it is time to board. I don’t see…do you have any luggage?”

“Uh…no, came as is.” I said feeling awkward. But my being ill at ease didn’t bother her at all. In fact, I noted she started to try to make me feel at ease.

“I understand. I will ensure that an armor stand is available for you in your stateroom, and we find something comfy for your…I’m sorry, what exactly is that?” and Vanna pointed at my familiar.

“Gossamer, he’s a Tressym, and I am guessing you have never seen one?”

The red head woman shook her head and leaned forward with interest, “No…I have never seen anything like it…can I…?” and she reached out to touch him. Gossamer alighted on the desk and allowed himself to be touched, enjoying the attention.

_--She has a nice touch, smells nice, doesn’t have a pet of her own._

I smiled, “He likes how you smell,” I said, and I sat on the desk’s edge.

Vanna looked at me in surprise, but she turned those tables around quickly. “So, he’s a familiar?”

I nodded, “Yes…you know of them?”

“Of course, we have many wizards that use our services; but I had never seen a…Tressym right? He is so cute! Anyway, can we offer you something to tide you over till dinner?” she said still stroking Gossamer’s fur.

“Ah…yes uh…a liquor of some type…I don’t know what you have.”

“I recommend the Mror Rye with some water,” she said still stroking Goss’ fur much to his delight. “It won’t kill you that way. Nails! A watered Mror Rye for Myrai please!”

I was puzzled a second, but I watched that one of the statues with a green tailed coat moved forward from the wall and nodded and walked to the bar. I watched ‘Nails’ intently as this was something new. The ‘statue’ moved with deliberate grace. I had seen a number of golems in Sigil, as well as Modrons; they all moved stiffly and had a deliberate precision in their movement that I would have described as plodding. ‘Nails’ was anything but plodding; their movements smooth and sure, and he quickly poured water and a honey colored liquor into a glass. It then placed it on a tray and with poise, delivered it to me with a kind of flourish, bending at the waist. I was about to reach and take it, when ‘Nails’ did something unexpected.

“Your Mror Rye with water, Lady Myrai,” it said in a deep metallic voice that caused me to jump. After a moment I reached forward and took the glass and I looked at the ‘statue’ closely. Its mechanical eyes watched me, much as any person did, but its face had elements of stone, metal and wood through out it. Each hand had two fingers and a thumb, while each foot ended in a pair of toes. Its head had an articulated jaw, which did move when it spoke and there was a strange rune on its forehead.

I reached and took the glass, and said awkwardly, “Than…thank you, Nails?...correct?”

Nail’s face was inscrutable as it answered, “Yes, milady. I will be your porter for your trip. We will be able to board soon. If you need something just call.”

I nodded, and I must have had a dumbstruck look on my face as it cocked its head and returned to its position on the edge of the room and once again stood, silently and unmoving. And like that, he appeared to be another fixture in the room. It seemed surreal for some reason I couldn’t articulate to myself.

“Is there a problem?” the woman asked me as she continued working her nails through Gossamer’s coat. “If you would prefer a different Warforged, I can make arrangements.”

“A…Warforged? Er…no. No not at all…It’s just I have never. Pay me no mind,” and I took a sip of the rye, feeling the burn at the back of my throat followed by the warmth in my stomach.

“As you like,” Vanna said and rang a small bell on her desk. From a door behind her another Warforged came up to her, and she whispered into where a person’s ear would be but was only a small hole on the side of its metal head.

“Come on Gossamer, I’m going to sit down,” I said and motioned to my familiar.

_--Come on…a little longer…her nails feel SO GOOD. You should grow nails like this._

“Alright you little traitor,” I said shaking my head, and took off my pack and set it on the floor as I plopped myself on a divan. Thinking for a moment, I pulled out the _Apocrypha _and quietly worked a ritual so I could see dweomers around me. Once I pulled some small dark and light strands together, I then looked around the room and was surprised on what I saw.

The first thing was the mosaic on the ground had a strong locus of energy that's aura told me it was conjuration. The lanterns in the room, had small flares of evocation enchantments. Finally, several of the others in the room had various items on them or each with different auras. All of this didn’t surprise me. But what did was the Warforged had nothing magical about them. They appeared as non-magical as much as the windows or the divans.

No…not the furniture; they were as non-magical as the guests, or as non-magical as I. Gossamer doesn’t have an aura either, but these Warforged weren’t normal constructs. I found myself staring at Nails in confusion. It was not a flesh and blood creature, but it had all the signs of being alive. Was it? And Nails wasn’t unique, there were a number in this room. But if they were built or forged like armor, who did it? *How* did they do it?

I was sipping on my rye mulling it over unsure on what my Lord Kelemvor would think about this. Did they die? Did they have souls to pass beyond? Did death have any meaning for them?




The halfling stood there at the week-old grave, her head bowed and tears flowing freely. Her tired face was contorted into a mixture of hatred and sorrow as she looked at the grave she made for her friend. She spoke aloud, trying to ease the pain that she felt in her soul.

“This isn’t right. This isn’t _fair_,” the halfling said in a lilting drawl, choking on the words. “Who would want to… and I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Perhaps if I were, I could have stopped them from…Well I guess wishin won’t solve anything. Goodbye Rosa; I learned a lot from you, and I hope that I can make you proud. May the Warden’s spirits of the past, guide you in the beyond.”

With that, the halfling walked back down the path towards the home she shared with Rosa, on the far outskirts of Havenglen. She remembered coming here years ago, tired of the blood spilled by Aundarian troops trying to reclaim the Eldeen back for the queen. It was brutal, with long days and longer nights of fighting. The families and clans of the Eldeen gave no quarter to the savage soldiers that came to pull the Reaches back into the fold. And for months it was the same; Aurala’s armies would push during the day, taking towns and villages. But at night, the shifters would come and hound the Aundair’s troops throughout the night, letting them have no respite, giving as good as the solders gave.

She met Rosa on the Day of Mourning; when as word of that terrible event spread, the bleeding on both sides stopped. And she helped her heal the wounded and treat the sick. The folks loved Rosa, one of the few Jorasco’s that didn’t abandon the villages. She was ever practical and pointed out the medicines needed by all were here. There was no reason to leave. And so, she stayed, cultivating the herbs, and sending them off, and treating all those she could.

It was hard to imagine that someone would kill her for that kindness.

The halfling finally arrived at the hillside, where a red door was set. Above it, a small flag embroidered with the house crest of the griffon, fluttered in the breeze. She looked at it sadly and opened the door. Stepping inside on the brick lined floor, she saw a number of letters and missives had been delivered and shoved through the slot on the door. Sighing, she picked them up and sorted through them. Most were from the enclave in Varna; House business she supposed, and not her own. But as she sorted through them, one stood out as different, with a return stamp of the Mror Holds. It wasn’t from the House, and she never recalled Rosa ever discussing anything about the Mror. As she looked at it, she was surprised to see it wasn’t addressed to Rosa; at least not precisely.

‘To Rosa d’Jorasco’s Friend.’​
Puzzled, she tore open the letter and started to read. As she did her hands began to shake.



> To Rosa d’Jorasco’s friend Rys,
> 
> Greetings! I represent the honorable Taryn d’Kundarak. Taryn is interested in retaining your services for a mission for a partner of House Kundarak. The mission’s objective is simple; return the control of a gold mine back to its original clan owner.
> 
> While I feel that the skills that you possess is vital to the mission, I admit that there are other forces at work here. Forces that placed a blade in Rosa’s back. It may be an opportune time to take a journey, as you are very much at risk. These forces if allowed would delay the use of your services for us, and yourself. Perhaps permanently.
> 
> You are invited to discuss terms with Taryn and myself in person. We have arranged First Class transport, and a small stipend for your valuable time as well. Simply present the enclosed voucher at the House Orien Caravan station in Havenglen, and their staff will guide you to your final destination.
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Melisandre d’Medani
> 
> Research and Staffing




“This isn’t possible…” Rys said aloud. She had only buried her friend seven days ago. And she hadn’t even been into town to tell anyone about her murder. How could anyone know about it in Mror? How in fact did anyone in Mror even know about herself? Granted, Rys had been hiding for a long time; long before she met Rosa. She looked at the mirror in the hall, and she saw the long tussled red hair and the green eyes, now lined in eyes from tears in her reflection.

_This Melisandre…she knows something. Worse, she knows me; the real me. I need to know what’s going on. Why am I at risk? What does she know?_

Nodding to herself, she walked over to a small desk, and opened it. She pulled open a drawer and found Rosa’s identification papers. Opening it she looked at the picture within at the long brown haired halfling with the brown eyes. Taking it, into her hands she looked into the mirror. Nodding she knew what she needed to do.

The halfling stepped outside and ran her hands through her now short chestnut brown hair. Nodding approvingly, she tightened her belt, where her curved sword hung, and then pocketed the identification papers. She then left the small enclave, and with a key locked the door behind her.

W_ell, what are the chances someone is going to be looking for someone already dead? I hope I can wear your face with justice Rosa._

And with that, she concentrated a moment and then began to run, and then lope as she pulled on natures power and became a graceful red elk. With a huff, her hooves pounded at the earth as she ran towards the town, nearly ten leagues distant.

As she galloped down the trail towards Hearthglen, she wondered where the Orien trail would take her, and how many secrets were already laid bare.



I sat there enjoying the Rye, when finally, a whistle blew. Turning I saw that Nails quickly approached me, saying, “That is the signal for First Class to board. If you would please follow me.” And he motioned with his steely hand toward the door. I rose from my seat, and I proceeded through it. Gossamer, for once, quickly followed without needing a word, and we were escorted towards an ornate carriage near the front. Following Nails, they quickly opened the door to the carriage, and stepped up a few steps, and then turned, held open the door, and offered me a metal hand to ease climbing inside.

I was walking on one side of the carriage and was already amazed at the craftsmanship and care used in its creation. Everything was paneled in warm auburn wood, with curtains and sashes in shades of green. The fixtures holding everbright lanterns were a shiny gold, as were the knobs, and other fittings. The floor was like a soft rug that stretched the length and the width of the car, leaving no visible hard surface of any kind visible.

Nails was ahead of me, and stopped by a door, and with a practiced flair opened it. Inside was a private cabin, with a large bed, a leather chair, small table and a stand to hold armor and weapons. The paneling here was even more ornate, with the wood wrapping around in smooth curves along the ceiling. I took off my pack, and set it down on the bed, as I looked admiring the quality of the materials and how luxurious it felt.

“Do you require assistance with your armor, Myrai?” Nails said expectantly, standing in the doorway.

“I…sure,” I said as I started to unbuckle my belts holding my pouches and my rapier while Nails, closed the door to my private cabin. He took the rapier and placed it upon the stand, and after I placed my belt and pouches on the the bed, they then quickly and dexterously started to unbuckle the breastplate I wore.

“Nails,” I said with a little awkwardness in my voice, “Please forgive me if this sounds strange or rude. But I have never heard of or met a Warforged. Where do you come from?”

Nails stopped a second to look at me, “This is not a jest?”

“No. I am from…a place very far from here. And you are the first one I have ever met.”

Nails shrugged and continued with the buckles. “We were created for the Last War by House Cannith. I personally was sold to Cyre and was a part of an infantry battalion. We were originally deployed to Karnnath and were engaged in combat when the hostilities ended. Since then, I managed to secure this job with House Orien.”

“Created for the war…created to fight. To kill?” I asked trying to think thought the implications.

“It happened; we didn’t question our owners. And now, we have no owners. It has been a difficult transition from the certainty of war, to…everything else,” Nails said, freeing the last buckle and they lifted the armor away from me, and then placed it on the stand.

“How many Warforged are there?”

“I do not know. Many thousands I am sure,” he said before his tone shifted the topic. “Dinner will be in several hours. Formal attire is required.”

“Formal? I do not —”

“—One of your hosts, has made arrangements for something suitable to wear. You will find it hanging in the side closet there.” As they spoke, I heard a loud whistling, and felt a lurch as the massive vehicle started to move, pulling the weight of carriages down the line. I looked out the window and saw the buildings of Krona Peak slide away slowly, as the Rail took me on my journey.

“I will return several hours from now. If you need me pull on the bell rope and I will come, Lady Myrai—”

“—Just Myrai please.” I said, and Nails nodded and withdrew, closing the door behind them.

I stood there staring at the door. A race of living construct-like beings? All slaves to another nations’ war. Like many in Sigil, I had talked to several modrons, and like many regretted it. But it was easy to make that mistake. Modrons were single minded and had more in common with a fancy water clock than a person. Yet while being alive, they had nothing in common with others in Sigil. And Sigil had slaves of a sort; indentured servants paying of a crime, a common pushiment where debts were due, as opposed to real crime. But you weren’t born…or made into it, and it always had an end. But indentured or not, they were still people.

And so did this warforged. Perhaps the only reason it felt strange was they looked very much not alive, and more like a golem or statue. Yet, the way that Nails acted made them as real as any other servant that served in King Melandrach’s realm, or in House Ustina, Arnara’s home. And how normal it was, for someone fighting war as all they knew, now finding their way as something else. Although it made me wonder, if war was indeed the only thing they ever knew.




Sage Redoubt walked through the dimly lit passage on their patrol. As they passed by doors to chambers holding incalculable wealth Sage’s only would be concerned if the door was unsecured. As a guard in the vaults beneath Korunda Gate, it was Sage’s job to walk these halls, and ensure all the vaults remained closed. Only a Kundarak with a mark and a key were allowed to open them and remove their contents. But in the six years of patrolling the dozen or so floors of the vault, he had never seen one opened, and in six years, Sage had never seen a breech in a door.

In fact, Sage almost never saw anyone in the Cyre vaults themselves. While for many of the Five nations, Cyre was a ghost: a simple darkened shadow on the map. Here the last bones of its wealth lay. Wealth that could not be claimed by anyone, not even the scattered number of ir’Wynarns that were of blood to Queen Dannel. For this was the last wealth of a nation; not a person, and the Treaty of Thronehold excluded any closure to Cyre, for it was as Queen Aurelia said, ‘Cyre is no more,’

So as a nation it was dead, the last of its wealth lay in Kundarak’s vaults, safe from everyone. The Treaty didn’t decide anything really about Cyre, other than the obvious. But it locked away the wealth from those Cyre owed, and from some that sorely could have used it. Orien could not ask for its wealth to repair lines around Metrol and the Mournland. Denieth could not ask to be paid for the Valenar or Darguun mercenaries. Widows could not claim a stipend for dead husbands on the battlefield, nor paid Jorasco to heal wounded sons. Issues that were ignored in the rush to peace, and only after all was written and done, was the error recognized.

Without someone to administer Cyre’s gold and to sort out who should be paid first, it would be locked away from all. Granted this was not the main hold of Cyre wealth; this was a reserve. But the main vault was in Metrol, far behind the mists of the Mournland, was even less accessible than the Cyre Reserve in Korunda Gate. But to Kundarak, it was an honor to hold it in trust, till a day came that the Four Nations recognized a claim, and that day was a day far in the future.

When Sage first came to the Cyre vault, he was one of a pair purchased for that function. It was always a puzzle to Sage on how that happened; his skills were far more suited for anything but guard duty. Horsemanship and combat magic were of little use here beneath the mountains, but sudden reallocations did happen. His peer was only around for about a month before he was informed, he would be the only guard on duty for the foreseeable future. As to why, Sage was told that the other Warforged had ‘an accident’ and was told nothing more.

That was over five years ago, and little had changed Sage noted, as he returned to the barracks. The barracks was a large room, near the vault entrance where guards, clerks and trusted laborers would move gold from one vault to another. But little of that happened in reserved vaults; only occasional large deposits or withdrawals, and none of them happened in Sage’s time. Sage entered the barracks, which was meant to hold twenty or so Mror, was now a library of Sage’s thoughts and musings. Six years of writings were carefully organized by topic and arranged neatly on the shelves. An open doorway lead to another small chamber which contained Sage’s only opponent, and yet was Sage’s fiercest ally against boredom; a pell.

Sage stepped in front of the pell and ignited green flames down his armblade. Quickly the Warforged struck the pell, practicing movements he was trained for years ago. Sage slashed, parried, blocked imaginary thrusts. Over and over he would do this, until it was time to write on one of the various magical theorems that came to mind.

Patrol, Practice, Write. That was the sum of Sage’s activities for the last six years, broken by the conversations he would have with Fanor d’Kundarak. Fanor would tell him the goings on outside world, supply him with books, replace the pell and add a shelf if Sage had almost filled it. It was nice not to be forgotten, and the conversation allowed Sage’s mind to wander and create essays on history and conjecture if battles had only turned a different direction. Sage in fact was considering writing on the topic of the Battle of Thaliost, when he heard the dwarf call his name.

“Sage? You back in the barracks?” he heard Fanor call.

“Indeed. Do you have more blanks for me?” Sage replied as he turned and hit the pell with a blast of fire.

“Ah no…I have a pair of letters for you though.”

Sage stopped in mid-swing. “Letters?” he voiced, as the old dwarf entered the room. Fanor was one of the last dwarves that helped to build and maintain the Cyre vault. Others had moved on to other projects, and still others had been buried. But Fanor was the one who stayed behind as the one who laid the first stone. There was always one like him in every vault; someone who knew every stone, any breech, and any major moves. And while Reserve Vaults were quiet, they were the bedrock of the faith that every common person put into the safety of their money.

“Yes, and…well we should sit down a moment.” The old dwarf huffed.

“I’m fine.”

“Humor me…please sit down.”

Sage looked around and pulled a dusty chair from the side of the wall and waited for Fanor to sit across from him. The dwarf looked at Sage with fondness and then looked down as he spoke.

“Well, there isn’t any use to dwell on this; but the bad news is that you are…out of a job.”

Sage’s metal lids blinked slowly, before speaking, “I’m fired?”

“What? Oh no…no…no not fired. More…laid off.”

“I’m the only guard here though. If I am laid off, then who—?”

“—Well that’s just it. The Hearthwardens have decided that it would be cheaper to just seal the vault, rather than the House to fund services to a nation not paying bills. And right now, the other vaults are busy and fully staffed…so there isn’t a place for you here if you get my meaning?” Fanor said looking at the Warforged sympathetically.

“I see,” Sage said simply, trying to envision what he would do next; this had been his only function for six years. The idea of doing something different was both terrifying, and exhilarating. Perhaps he could discuss his theories on alternate history or discuss the failings of various military stratagems. But before he could go deeply into this line of thought, Fanor continued.

“Well when I heard about it, I was looking to find you something to do, and well…it seems that someone else *had* heard of you in the House.”

Sage looked at the Dwarf intently, “Knows me…who?”

“A cousin…and yes I know…we all look a like to you…but all I can say is I have a letter here from him. And of course, a reference letter from me, which you probably won’t need.” And Fanor handed Sage two envelopes. The first was clearly in Fanor’s hand, and was simply labled “To prospective employer, official Letter of Recommendation of the Warforged Sage Redoubt.” But it was the second one that had Sage’s focus as he opened it and read:



> To Warforged Sage Redoubt,
> 
> Greetings! I represent the honorable Taryn d’Kundarak. Taryn is interested in retaining your services for a mission for a partner of House Kundarak. The mission’s objective is simple; return the control of a gold mine back to its original clan owner.
> 
> Your discretion and skill as a member of the Iron Gate for House Kundarak is well known. However, I know that you were originally meant to serve the Knights Arcane in Aundair before your redirection of service to the Iron Door. What you do not realize is that the story is more complicated than that. It may be an opportune time to take a journey, as you may now be at risk. A Certain party if allowed would delay the use of your services for us, and yourself. Perhaps permanently.
> 
> You are invited to discuss terms with Taryn and myself in person. We have arranged First Class transport, from Korunda Gate and a small stipend for your valuable time as well. Simply present the attached voucher nearest House Orien station and their staff will guide you to your final destination.
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Melisandre d’Medani
> 
> Research and Staffing




Sage looked at the letter a while silently. They then stood up, and moved towards a bookcase only a third full, and took two volumes off the shelf.

“Is it a good offer?” Fanor asked.

“It is a gambit, by a player who knows more about me than I do. But it is a job.”

Fanor nodded slowly trying to read the tone of the conversation, “I’m glad to hear that. Beats being sealed in the vault.” And then Fanor spread his hands out apologetically. “They joked about it; I thought it was a bit rude myself.”

Sage nodded silently and continued to look at the letter.

“So, Sage…what did you want me to have done with the rest of the books here?”

Sage looked up and then around at the hundreds of tomes that he had authored. After a long moment he spoke.”

“I have what I want. Seal the rest here. I won’t be needing them anymore.”



I sat looking through the windows smiling. I had been on carriages before, bouncing along ruts in the road in sweltering heat, with nothing more to do than read and watch the countryside slip away at a slow leisurely pace.

This was not that.

The speed I watched the Lightning Rail pass through the mountains was astonishing. It didn’t even feel like we really were moving as we never hit a rut, or a divot as the Rail floated above them all. As we travelled, I could see the flicker of light flash from beneath me at regular intervals along the ground. The countryside didn’t creep…it flowed like a river and ran as fast or faster than a horse at full gallop. And unlike many carriage rides, I didn’t want to read, I wanted to watch.

They kept mentioning it was spring in Krona Peak, but if this was spring, I was a tiefling. The mountains and valley were covered in a blanket of white, obscuring the earth. Trees were also covered in the stuff, and I could see ice hanging of branches. I had heard of winter and of snow in Waterdeep, but it was only Autumn when I left for the balmy Nethlander islands. Sigil would get deathly cold and ice would appear there on ocassion. But snow? It happened, but it was always a dirty grey with odor of brimstone in most places. It wasn’t white, and pure and beautiful as this.

I sighed, and turned to look at Gossamer. He was fast asleep on a chair, near a small stove that warmed the cabin, and kept the cold from the windows from seeping inside. I let him be and stood and made my way over to the small closet that Nails had pointed out and opened it.

It was a dress to be certain, similar in styles I had seen in Sigil. There the current trend tended to fitted sheaths down to the ankles. I saw many of them in the Civic Festhall, as the wealthy came for entertainment. This was similar, yet unlike Sigil’s which bare arms, and cut out panels along the sides were common. This one had sleeves and several cut outs around the arms, but the body line was left covered. But it was the color that stood out. I first thought it was a white with a sheen, but then I realized that the fabric itself was shimmering. Pulling it closer to my eyes, I saw it was changing color, creating a layer above the cloth. It reminded of some of the glamours the elves in the Misty Wood used during their dances. But this was more extensive, throughout all the fabric. And if this wasn’t enough, there was a pair of sandals that matched the color and shared the same glimmer of color.

“Someone wants me to be dressed for an occasion,” I said to myself. “All for a job involving a mine…a gold mine?”

I walked over to the bed and from the side of my pouch I pulled out a slim wooden wand, inlaid with silver and hanging on the very end was a small bell. I caressed the wood and looked at it with fond memories. It was a small creation of mine, something that I enchanted to simply to make more time for myself and Arnara when we spoke and traded our native tongues. I flicked it in the air twice ringing the bell on the end, and the wand let off a blue spark. I set it down and turned.

It was odd summoning it; you couldn’t see it. It would never speak and rarely made noise. But you new it was there, present and waiting. A servant of magical force.

“Help me change into that dress in the closet,” I said. I almost felt guilty summoning it. It wasn’t real, but somehow it bothered me more that a very real Nails was a servant. I supposed I could have asked him…it…them to help me dress and prepare. But perhaps it was I just wasn’t comfortable with the idea of a…person at my beck and call. Arnara was different; we would help each other; it was mutual and one with a friendship at the root of it all. In Sigil, the rich had servants, and that was expected. Expected to for your employer to pay you enough that a garnish was never needed. And in return the servants to never turn their back on them. And while I was sure Orien was paying Nails, somehow, I had the suspicion that, unlike a Sigil house servant, that it wasn’t enough.

The shapeless force helped remove my garments, while I focused solely on cleaning myself. I would probably kill for a real tub of hot water, but if I were going to that, I would probably skip dinner altogether. It was strange; here I used the strands to create an object to help assist me with things; things I didn’t want to do or were inconvenient.

Wasn’t Nails then the next logical step. I’ve been in a war; death and life were on the line. What if the Sinkers had Warforged. What if the Hardheads did? They would have used them without a thought. But unlike golems or the shapeless force I created Warforged were were alive. I didn’t even know if death meant the same thing to them. Kelemvor said nothing about this, them, about any construct. But I did know that life must have meaning to them. Meaning enough to find work as a servant; to have a purpose.

As the force slipped the dress over my head, I wondered if Nails and what he was doing was the best situation. What was the worst?



The rain was pouring down, on the cold grey day in Aruldusk. The light was dimming as night was starting to creep across the sky as the sun was concealed by the clouds. The Lightning Rail to Sharn had just left, as the populace was hunkering down to wait out the stormy weather. The rain itself was a good omen for spring, but most hoped that the clouds would break so that planting could begin. Any inn you passed you could hear the same story from the crowd. The mood was merry despite the rain, as the fires were warm, and ale was flowing.

But not for everyone.

Wrapped in a leather cloak, a figure slowly moved through the outskirts of town. Here the shifters had created a city of their own, of tents, and lean-tos. Normally a bonfire would be in the middle, warming up the clannish nomads, but today a clustered set of awnings were set up, and many small cooking fires took the place of tradition. Food and song were in the air here too, as many looked forward to the trek to the Thornwood to hunt.

But the drenched figure, tread his way through the camp. They didn’t look at the tents or the fire, much less the inns they passed beforehand. Even the path they took was one of simple purpose, a means to an end.

The shifters saw the figure and were wary. It wasn’t that it was a stranger, but nor were they a friend. When they first came to the camp, it was a surprise to the elders, who didn’t know what to make of them or their request.

“I wish to stay here at the edge of your tents. I will not be a cause for trouble. I want nothing and need nothing more than a spot.”

“You are not of our people? Why should we let you?” the elders said.

“Because. I need…time.”

The elders shrugged; they had no prejudice against Warforged. And this one was dressed in the livery of a Orien Courier. Many Shifters had done similar work, carrying messages across the field; sometimes to friends and sometimes to foes. Sometimes they were caught sneaking around places they shouldn’t. But many had seen things that haunted them, and even this was evident in the Warforged cold eyes.

And this one had seen far too much.

So, they let them stay at the edge of the camp. They provided a small tent to keep the rain away and left him alone. They let it stay to sort out things out, and in return the Warforged left them alone.

The Warforged sat down, in the lone lean-to, as far from the city as one could get. The deluge had found a moment to pause, and the Warforged opened a panel in their chest and took out a book, and then pulled out from a pouch a driftglobe. They set it in the air, and they started to read the complex sigils within. It could hear the songs of the shifters nearby, and it did find them…comforting. But he didn’t want to approach or get close. Getting close was bad. Dangerous.

As they read, it heard a voice in the background and then footsteps in the mud approaching. They were slow, and uncertain…no hesitant…like someone approaching a wild animal, unsure if it would strike.

The Warforged placed the book back in their chest, and closed it quietly, but didn’t move. Their eyes looked to the right where the sound behind them was coming, and waited as they concentrated on their finger, letting it grow cold. Then it heard a voice followed by a peal of thunder, and the rain starting again.

“B-b-bookshelf?”

The Warforged sprang up and pointed its finger at the heart of a young human in Orien livery, in their late teens.

“I don’t work for him anym—”the Warforged thundered. And while it could barely hear anything in the downpour, it could smell the result of the kid’s bladder emptying on the mud.

“I—I—I just have a delivery for you…Captain.” The kid gulped and held out a letter, his hands shaking. “Please…don’t…kill me.”

“How did you…no…how did the House find me?”

“I—I—was given a letter that said you would…be here.”

“In the city?”

“N-n-o…in this camp.”

Bookshelf said nothing, but let the magic from his finger fade, and he gently took the letter from the boy. He tore it open and read the words within:



> To Captain Bookshelf,
> 
> Greetings! I represent the honorable Taryn d’Kundarak. Taryn is interested in retaining your services for a mission for a partner of House Kundarak. The mission’s objective is simple; return the control of a gold mine back to its original clan owner.
> 
> Your discretion and skill as a House Orien Courier I feel to be a perfect fit for the mission at hand. And while House Orien considers you to be damaged goods, I know potential. However, I do understand that a powerful party wishes to hold you accountable for some good people dying at another’s behest. It may be an opportune time to take a journey, as you may now be at risk. This party if allowed would delay the use of your services for us, and yourself. Perhaps permanently.
> 
> You are invited to discuss terms with Taryn and myself in person. We have arranged First Class transport, and a small stipend for your valuable time as well. Simply present the attached voucher to any House Orien Caravan or Lightning Rail station, and their staff will guide you to your final destination. An arrangement has been made with the House, and they will not stand in the way.
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Mellisandre d’Medani
> 
> Research and Staffing




Bookshelf looked at the letter silently for a long moment before looking up.

“Is this true? The House will let me…travel?”

The kid nodded and sputtered, “They just asked…for you to use a different name when you…travel.” The kid gulped as Bookshelf looked at the letter again.

“And you were told *exactly* where I was?”

The kid nodded. “Basically…And the station master said to tell you the offer of transport…is good.

Bookshelf nodded. “Orien doesn’t lie on matters like this. But others do. So, if I encounter problems—”

“—He knows—”

Bookshelf raised his hand and pointed at the kid hissing, “--Don’t interrupt. Because if there are, every Rail and every station will burn. Every. Last. One.”

*Notes:*
Three letters delivered...and some more to go.

So as I convert adventure to story I wanted to convey exactly what Myrai's experience about the lightning rail would be like.  This is one of the signature items, and it just wouldn't do to say "Myrai caught the 3rd bell train."  And of course I found a rabbit hole deeper than the one about tailoring that I covered in the "Souls of Legend"

When I sat down to write it, and I found maps of the trains, and the stations I needed to find something to visualize it, so I started looking at trains from the late 1800's.  And when I did, I found myself reading a bit of history on the Pullman trains.  I then realized that the story of the Warforged, had a lot of parallels.  It was easy to see House Orien hiring Warforged for many of the menial jobs of porters on the train, not House members and certainly not scions.  And with the prejudice against the Warforged, it just clicked on how to not just portray the experience of the Lightning Rail, but an introduction to the Warforged, their plight, and a bit on how they fit into an outsiders worldview.


----------



## Richards

Interesting...so, I'm guessing the "thorns of winter" are icicles, something Myrai's never seen before?  Even if I'm right, I guess I'll have to be patient to see how that's a big enough thing for the whole campaign to be named after it.  Some interesting new PCs...and two of them warforged!  It'll be fun to see them interact; I rather like warforged.  Rys is intriguing; I don't know enough about Eberron yet to know if she's a shifter or a changeling, as I was under the impression both are Medium size and "Rosa's friend" seems to be the size of a halfling.  Some sort of variant, or something altogether different?  I guess I'll just have to sit back and let the story unfold.

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

Richards said:


> Interesting...so, I'm guessing the "thorns of winter" are icicles, something Myrai's never seen before?  Even if I'm right, I guess I'll have to be patient to see how that's a big enough thing for the whole campaign to be named after it.  Some interesting new PCs...and two of them warforged!  It'll be fun to see them interact; I rather like warforged.  Rys is intriguing; I don't know enough about Eberron yet to know if she's a shifter or a changeling, as I was under the impression both are Medium size and "Rosa's friend" seems to be the size of a halfling.  Some sort of variant, or something altogether different?  I guess I'll just have to sit back and let the story unfold.
> 
> Johnathan




Myrai has seen ice and snow;  its just VERY dirty in Sigil.  I imagine it to be like if it snowed in industrial London, and all the smoke was from Coal mined in hell...yeah...don't eat yellow snow takes a whole new meaning.  Clean crystal clear icicles and pure white snow? Nope.  I will have to ask some patience on the title's meaning though.  

All of the characters...or rather players are very much into the role play aspect to a fault.  This does lead to some...hilarity.  Its a mixed group of friends and multiple families in IRL.  So the game had a different feel.

Anyway...more introductions coming soon.


----------



## Nthal

*Dinner and a Show - 11/27/2020*​
I pulled up my hair and pulled it into a low messy bun, leaving my face framed with long hair from my bangs on both sides. I kept turning my head as I looked in the mirror critically. The last time I did anything like this was in Sigil for a gathering, but I had nothing even close to what I was wearing. I realized I was fussing and not making any improvements.

_So, Goss how do I…Goss?_

Turning, I saw the Tressym was now beyond simple sleep, and was in that deeper hedonistic realm of slumber that only a cat can make look dignified. Or cute. I shook my head in mock disapproval, when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it and saw the face of Nails.

“Your party is assembling for dinner. Shall I escort you to the dining carriage?”

“Please Nails,” and motioning with my right hand, my rod floated behind me.

Nails I think reacted with a small tilt of their head. “You may wish to wear your cloak, however. It is cold.”

I nodded and pulled out my travel cloak from where I hung it in the small closet, and then took Nail’s offered hand. He led me down the narrow passage along the side of the carriage, and my rod drifted behind us. We came to a door which Nails opened, and to my surprise, the freezing chill of the night air hit me. A series of steel plates with hand rails, bridged the gap between the two carriages, with a door on the far side. And while there was an awning to prevent snow or rain from coming down, it did nothing about the cold. Nails stepped outside holding the door open and motioned for me to follow. I quickly rushed across the steel platform to the other door and didn’t even wait for Nails to open it. I rushed inside shivering, my rod darting behind me to keep up.

“Sp…sp…spring huh? S..s..ure this isn’t w…w…winter?” I said my teeth chattering.

“There have been strange weather reports. Here it is freezing, yet I have heard that north it is warm. But I apologize, I do not know if this is typical or not, beyond the locals complaints,” Nails responded. I noticed with envy, that the cold didn’t seem to bother them at all.

I was standing in a vestibule of sorts, with a heavy curtain blocking my view inside the carriage. Nails stepped in front of me, and with two arms, swept the curtain away with a flourish, and then stepped back, and with a small bow gestured for me to enter. The carriage was arranged like an inn, with a column of five tables that could seat four on the left, and five tables that could seat two on the right. The entire car was inlaid in wood with a deep cherry wood finish and ornate carvings, while from above hung chandeliers with cut glass, reflecting the light from more of those strange crystals…dragonshards. The tables were set in clean white linens, and were set with not clay plates, or metal ones, but fine tableware, gilt with gold, and utensils in shining silver. Each table had wooden chairs with arms each the same cherry wood color as the paneling in the car. Most of the tables had various occupants eating, drinking or both, while conversations and light laughter echoed through the car.

“I take it that not everyone eats here,” I whispered to Nails.

“Hmm? No, only First Class,” came the puzzled surprise. “The second table on the left.”

I glanced at the table, and saw it had a sole occupant. A woman, with dark raven tresses, which cascaded loosely behind her shoulders. From beneath I could see the small points of her ears. It was fixed into place with a silvery headband with delicate chains wrapping behind her hair, and an aquamarine gemstone set into the center. It was a perfect match for her piercing blue eyes, and it stood in contrast to the deep blue velvet dress she wore. She was taking a sip of red wine as she turned her head and smiled at my entrance. As I approached the woman stood, with her hands crossed in front of her. She then moved to take both of mine in hand and spoke.

“At last we meet,” she said smiling and looking me over. “You may call me Melisandre. I am glad it fits; I only had the barest glance at you in that…well…sack?”

Nodding, “This is your doing not…Taryn’s?” I asked trying to gauge the situation. The half-elf…no Khorvar was looking me over with interest. Not just my eyes or hair, but all of me as she responded. “No Taryn is a good business minded Mror but he does lack…a woman’s finesse. Your hands are freezing though! I should have provided gloves. Please get Myrai a hot buttered brandy,” she ordered Nails, who was pulling out a chair for me to be seated, who responded with a silent nod. “Please! Sit!” she admonished me. Nails removed my cloak, and then pushed in my chair as I sat, before moving farther down the car to fetch Melisandre’s order.

“So, it was you I saw during the inquiry,” I stated looking at the woman, slightly uncomfortable with the unequal familiarity we had with each other. “I’m guessing that wasn’t random chance.”

Melisandre gave a knowing grin and tilted her head as my rod floated next to me on my left. “And you do know a bit of Arcana as well…Anyway no it wasn’t. Vernan told me about you, and I…just had to see the person myself. And after what happened…I knew you were the right person for what I needed.”

I guffawed and looked at her in the eye, “I’m not sure how breaking out of jail qualifies me in mining gold.”

Melisandre gave me a smile, “I don’t need you to mine. What I am recruiting for is for talent that can handle…unexpected things. But we should wait for Taryn before we discuss business.”

“If you can indulge me then, what is Medani business exactly?”

Melisandre looked at me her eyes narrowing slightly, “That’s a pointed question.”

I shrugged, “I apologize if that is a rude question. But I am new here, and all I know is that you are a member of a Dragonmarked house, but I have no idea what yours is about.”

“The _house_ is involved in…protection of people or nations,” she said deliberately. “Think of it in the sense of being one step ahead of your opponents but without knowing who they might be. But…I’m not a scion of the house, and I…well…found that I enjoy helping find the right people for others. So, I am on my own. Does that satisfy you?”

Her tone gave me the impression of someone who was rarely challenged. It was more than simple self-confidence. It reminded me of a jaded Sensate.

“It does,” I smiled. Nails returned with a tall glass with a handle, the steam pouring off the top of it. I grabbed the handle and then gingerly wrapped my hands around them, letting them soak the warmth. “I may not drink this…the heat is more intoxicating this way.”

She was about to respond when from behind me I heard a Mror voice, “Ah! So this is the seventh one! Please don’t get up.”

I turned my head and saw a pair of Mror. One was dressed in a long coat and carried a cane with another of those dragonshards on top. His brown hair was slicked back, and his beard was small and neatly trimmed. His dress gave off the impression of success and sophistication. Beside him was a female Mror. She had brown hair, with streaks of silver hair throughout and was done up in a tight wound braid. She wore what appeared to be an ornamental breastplate that sat on her shoulders but didn’t extend past the sternum. But it was covered in gold inlay all surrounding a symbol I didn’t recognize, a nine sided coin. Her hazel eyes however regarded me with suspicion.

“I am Taryn d’Kundarak and this is Debrika,” the male Mror said gesturing to his companion. Another Warforged pulled out chairs from the table, and Debrika sat first followed by Taryn. “I must apologize in advance, but I will not be staying for dinner, as Debrika has pointed out there are some last moment affairs to take care of this evening.”

“So…you’re the mastermind behind recovering a gold mine?” I asked just as Taryn seated himself.

Debrika glared at me, and Taryn gave me a pained smile, “Ah no. That would be my uncle actually, Kaelin. But you are straight to the point I see. I like that.”

“You did say you had last minute affairs to take care of didn’t you?” I replied. Debrika arched an eyebrow a moment, and Melisandre leaned back in her chair with her wine.

“And so I did,” Taryn said still smiling. “Well, I understand from Melisandre that you are…new here. But let me tell you a quick story first, and then we can get to the matter at hand.” Another Warforged came up and gave the pair of Mrors large mugs full of an earthy smelling ale, and I took a small sip of my brandy and waited patiently.

“Now then, over a hundred years ago the entirety of the nation of Galifar was engulfed in a war of succession, what we now call ‘The Last War..’ A war that only ended about three years ago. About ten years after the start, a Mror made a finding, after a quake sheared off rock on a cliff face of a canyon called ‘the Sieve’; a pure gold seam. Deep and vast. That Mror, quickly gathered his clan, and they built bridges across to the cliff face and started to mine it. The purity of the seam was high, but even the tailings contained valuable ore, so they build smelting facilities. So very quickly, Kaelin Skolhanker’s clan began to rise in prominence and wealth. So much that his sister Lina married into House Kundarak, joining our Clan’s interests…indirectly.”

Taryn took a large sip and continued. “Now, the Sieve is in the southern part of the Ironroots, so a small garrison was built to protect the Clan, and the mine. But as the Last War dragged on year after year, more and more Mrors were called up to fight for the nation of Karnnath by King Kaius I. But as more and more were called, the garrison became vulnerable. And so, it was that the Jhorash’tar, a tribe of Orcs noticed. They stormed the garrison and took it, the mine, the smelter. Everything. Kaelin and two of his sons were lucky to escape with a number of civilians…but not many. This wasn’t the only event like this, and Mrors decided that we didn’t need to fight Karnnath's wars; we needed to defend ourselves and our interests first. And the Mror Holds declared itself…free of Karrn rule in 914. We did keep up trade with them though and they didn’t retaliate. But we couldn’t take the risk, so Krona Peak was heavily fortified. But no one could be spared to go recover the Sieve.

“Until now?” I guessed.

“Correct. With the Last War three years in the past, Kaelin is mustering a dwarf army to retake the garrison and the mine,” Taryn smiled with a dreamy look in his eyes. Debrika kept looking at me intently, while Melisandre continued to sip her wine with an amused look.

I nodded and took a sip of my brandy again, feeling the warmth seep into my bones and blood. “But what does that have to do with me?”

Taryn nodded approvingly, “Well there is little that a column of Mror can’t do once they set their minds and axes to it. But for everything an army can do, there is a need for…talented troubleshooters for things it can’t. Troubleshooters with skills like yours.”

“Like mine? Why not another Mror?”

“Well…to be honest I didn’t think I would need any. But as I was working with Melisandre to get command staff for the army over to Kaelin to review, she told me that a group would be necessary. I didn’t believe her then. But now…well she seems to have a knack to knowing what’s needed when,” Taryn looked at Melisandre with a small smile. Debrika looked at the Khorvar with the same disapproving look. Melisandre made the appearance of modesty, bowing her head. But I saw she was only playing a part here.

“I am more a student of history,” Melisandre replied. “There have always been a need for such people. I didn’t think that current events would force it so soon; otherwise I would have pushed for recruiting earlier.”

“So, I’m not the only one you have approached?” I asked.

“No, there were I think six others that had offers made to them.”

“And how many accepted?”

Melisandre smiled, “I sent messages to them all a week ago, all but one of them will come, I am sure.”

“Wait…all but one?” Taryn asked surprised.

“Yes, well it appears that one recently had a…bad end. But I used some influence to get a message to a different, equally qualified person. I will explain that in detail later; let’s focus on Myrai’s questions first.”

“Of course,” Taryn acknowledged nodding. “So, what can I answer for you?”

“So, who did you recruit?”

“Well, the first three are skilled in areas of…magical arts. One is a well-known healer from the Eldeen Reaches, and then I found a couple of wizards. One in the Mrors, and the other was in Thrane,” Melisandre replied, counting off her fingers. “The other three are more physically inclined. And they were all in Sharn, including the replacement."




The skies were grey and pouring rain as night fell in the City of Towers. In Middle Dura, traffic on the bridges was high as the citizens scrambled to their tenements to find shelter from the weather. In the Callestan district, the coming of night meant that work of the seedier trades would start. The bordellos, the dreamlily dens, the gambling halls; all the vices would throw open their doors to welcome all with coin.

Through the narrow alleys, a large hulking Orc, hooded and cloaked, threaded its way among the refuse and the derelict squatters, hiding in the boxes and makeshift shelters. Finally, he came to a nearly empty alley, with only a single occupant. A sleeping old woman covered in wet and torn copies of the ‘Sharn Inquisitive’, coughing fitfully in her sleep. The hulking Orc stepped around the supine woman and stopped at a weathered door and thumped on it twice quickly. After a moment, the door opened, admitting the figure inside.

“Took yer time Mobad,” a gruff Orc voice said in the shadows of the room. Inside a half dozen leather cloaked brutes were busy stuffing items into sacks and packs on a large trestle table.

“The shifter wouldn’t pay, Markan. I had to break things first. Then I broke him a bit,” Mobad said, pulling down his hood. His long, dank hair was wet, despite the coverings, and water dripped from his grey skin. His small black eyes looked tired and frustrated. “But Boromars showed up before I could finish. I ran.” Mobad finished with distaste.

Markan moved out of the shadows with a coffer and stuffed it into a nearby pack on the table. “We’ve lost then. The Boromars sense our weakness; we have lost territory. And now…now we lost four more to—”

“To Boromars or Daask?” Mobad asked almost unconcerned with the answer.

“Neither. To _him._” Markan spat.

“’The Blade?’” Mobad said dispassionately.

“Yes, ‘The Blade’! We’re done here.”

Mobad nodded. Then he looked around at the activity in packing. “Why are we packing up?”

“That’s a good question,” Markan said with a hostile tone. “It’s bad enough that the Boromars want to finish us off. And Daask…well we keep targeting the same places and they are much stronger than we. Add this ‘Blade’ into the mix…Its hopeless. I’d be content to wait it out, but we can’t. Perhaps _you_ can explain?” Markan said stepping next to the Orc.

“Me? What are you talking about?”

“You dumb brute; you had two jobs. Beat up who I say for money, and not be followed. And now you show up here with no money, and you were followed.”

“Was not!”

“Really? Then how did a gargoyle know to find you here?”

Mobad blinked in puzzlement. “Gargoyle?”

“A House Vadalis gargoyle, banged on the door howling *your* name! I took the letter from it so it would leave.” And Markan thrust an opened envelope at the baffled orc. “This is supposed to be a secret hideout! And you are taking mail here?”

Mobad stood there with a blank look and looked at the letter. On the outside the letter simply had his name ‘Mobad’ on the front. Frowning he took the opened letter and read:



> To the Wanted Criminal known as “Mobad,”
> 
> Greetings! I represent the honorable Taryn d’Kundarak. Taryn is interested in retaining your services for a mission for a partner of House Kundarak. The mission’s objective is simple; return the control of a gold mine back to its original clan owner.
> 
> Your skills and anger issues are seen as an asset in the reclamation of the mine. It is also known to me that a both the Dark Lanterns of Breland and a particular vigilante are looking for your clan members in general, and you specifically. It may be an opportune time to take a journey, as you may now be at risk. These parties if allowed would delay the use of your services for us, and yourself. Perhaps permanently.
> 
> You are invited to discuss terms with Taryn and myself in person. We have arranged First Class transport, and a small stipend for your valuable time as well. Simply present the attached voucher at the House Orien Lightning Rail station in Lower Tavick’s Landing, and their staff will guide you to your destination.
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Melisandre d’Medani
> 
> Research and Staffing




“To ‘Wanted Criminal Mobad’? And now it says Dark Lanterns are looking into our gang? We’re leaving,” Markan said angrily.

“I will get my things,” Mobad said simply.

“Yes. But you are *not* coming with us. *You* are going to talk to this Melisandre and squeeze out of her what she knows.”

“How will I find you later?” Mobad asked.

“We’ll find *you*. Now go before you bring down more trouble on our heads.”

Mobad sighed, and pulled up the hood to his cloak, and without another word left the gang’s former safehouse, walking back into the pouring rain. He started to thread his way back to the main bridge way and work his way upwards to find a skycoach to take him to Tavick’s landing.

Above him, another figure stayed pressed to the shadows of his perch in on a balcony. The figure was dressed in a black cloak, with a cowl covering most of his head. A ridged mask of leather on his forehead kept water clear from his eyes. Eyes focused on the doorway that one of the Orc gang members just departed. The cowled figure considered losing an arrow at the departing Orc, but decided against it. That one wasn’t the important one. The leader, Markan was. Letting an arrow fly and warning Markan wasn’t the plan. He relaxed the tension on the bowstring and waited.

He knew that the gang was on the losing end of a turf war and were being pushing out from the small amount of territory it controlled. The Boromars were once seen as unassailable and ruthless and none dared challenged them for territory. But that was before Daask started to make a mess of things. The big criminal operations, like the Tyrants, and House Tarkhanan had nothing to fear. Daask seemed to have it out only for the Boromar clan. But now the clan had to deal with the middle-sized upstarts looking to move up. And while the Boromars seemed unable to deal with Daask, it could deal with the smaller gangs, and did harshly. But sometimes they moved, a bit slower than justice’s patience had.

Or at least, The Blade’s. He watched and waited, and he started to become concerned. The pattern was off; normally the other orcs would have left to press their luck on evening shakedowns, after a pair of them did their sunset shakes. But only one had returned this evening, and the same one left again. Beyond that one, none of the others left the little dingy hovel in the back alley. Then a motion caught his eye.

From both ends of the alley, a dozen men, split evenly into two groups approached the door quietly. The Blade pulled his bow beside him and flattened himself into the shadows and watched. As the dozen men approached the door, he saw that there were two contingents of the Sharn Watch had gathered at each of the alley’s exits. This was a pleasant surprise to see them actively engaged. But the dozen below weren’t dressed as members of the Watch. They were dressed in mostly black cloth and stained leathers.

Suddenly, the dozen men flooded through the door like it wasn’t even there. Two remained outside while there was a sound of a scuffle. There were sounds of steel on flesh, and a struggle. Finally, two men emerged dragging an orc sized figure out with them, in chains. The others exited the hovel, swords sheathed. The Blade frowned, this wasn’t normal either and he listened, as the men conversed below.

“You find them?”

“No…but the boss here might know.”

“Let’s ask him.”

He squinted to get a better view of the Orc prisoner and was surprised to see that around the Orc’s head was a black leather bag. As they approached the end of the alley, an unremarkable skycoach dropped from above, and the two men threw the unconscious orc onboard. They then boarded the coach, and it sped away in the rain. The others in the alley departed one at a time from each end, leaving the hovel and its door wide open.

The Blade stepped out of the shadows and climbed down a drain pipe that clung on the tower wall, till he reached the alley floor, not a foot away from the old sleeping woman, who coughed for a brief moment. He pulled out his coiled leather whip and then quickly and silently he moved to the hovel and darted inside.

The interior was dark, but The Blades vision was unimpacted by the lack of light. Around the floor were bodies still warm, blood pooling beneath them. They seemed to be packing goods and wealth, ready to bolt. The Blade, moved to the table in the center of the room, and opened one of the packs still sitting there. Inside were bags of coin, copper and silver mostly. Untouched, and unsearched. The Blade’s heart quickened a step, and he hurried to the door exiting the hovel. Looking around and above, he quickly hung his bow over his shoulder, and then hung the whip at his belt. Keeping his head down he exited the alley and merged into the now busy crowd on the main causeway, the Sharn Watch mysteriously missing.

It took some time to get back to his apartment in Lower Dura. Of course, The Blade took a meandering path through crowds before he arrived in Oldkeep. Here the poor paid little attention to the goings on of neighbors. Staring at them was as likely to cause a fight, and no one’s life was worth an indiscriminate stare. Still he was cautious, and he travelled in the darkened alleys cautiously. Finally, he darted into an alley, and made his way to a heavy oak door. He quickly produced a key, popped open the lock, and swiftly entered the apartment and secured the door behind him.

He leaned his back on the closed door and he breathed a sigh of relief. But he was concerned; the Dark Lanterns rarely involved themselves in low crimes of Dura. And they didn’t find who they were looking for. He took of his cloak and peeled the wet mask away from his face. Moving to the rough paneled wall, he pushed on a board and opened a concealed cupboard, with a drain at the bottom and hooks for clothing, some already holding fine outer wear.

It was several hours later when the finely dressed elf arrived by skycoach at the Seinessa tower in Oak Towers, in Upper Northedge. His face was deep in thought however, as he walked towards the double doors on the balcony landing. He produced a key, and unlocked the doors, and entered. The upper foyer was reserved for close company and family, and the hour was late. So, the tower floor being empty wasn’t a terrible surprise. The elf took off the light leather cloak and hung it on a nearby hook to dry. He then made his way upstairs to his room, a floor up.

He threw open the door, and flopped down on a divan, tired and sore. This evening had not been what he had expected to say the least.

“You’re early sir. The sun hasn’t even made her presence known in the east, and yet here you are,” a Warforged intoned, carrying a silver platter. “If you had notified me of your change of schedule…no correction, told me your schedule to start with I might have—”

“—Told me to fix it myself. Thanks Reeve.”

“Of course. A letter arrived for you shortly after you left this evening,” and he offered the silver platter with a white missive on it.

“A letter? Probably Delling wanting me to talk to my mother again,” he said dismissively not reaching for it.

“I don’t think so. I have been using those letters for the cooking fire; this one is different.”

The elf frowned and took the offered letter and glanced at it briefly before tearing it open. As he read it, his heart quickened its pace:



> To Adrian Seinessa, vigilante extraordinaire,
> 
> Greetings! I represent the honorable Taryn d’Kundarak. Taryn is interested in retaining your services for a mission for a partner of House Kundarak. The mission’s objective is simple; return the control of a gold mine back to its original clan owner.
> 
> I feel that the skills that you hone nightly as ‘The Blade’ in Sharn would be a strong addition to the company being gathered. It may be opportune as well, as there is a rumor that the Dark Lanterns of Breland are taking interest in your handiwork. Such an interest would delay the use of your services for us, and yourself. Perhaps permanently.
> 
> You are invited to discuss terms with Taryn and myself in person. We have arranged First Class transport, and a small stipend for your valuable time as well. Simply present the attached voucher at the House Orien Lightning Rail station in Lower Tavick’s Landing, and their staff will guide you to your final destination.
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Mellisandre d’Medani




Research and Staffing

“This is not good,” Adrian muttered to himself. “And I guess this Medani has answers to questions I didn’t know I had. Until now. Reeves?” he addressed the Warforged standing silently nearby expectantly. “Tell my parents I am going out of town for a while.”


The rain didn’t let up, and the old woman stirred in her nest of Inquisitives. She slowly stood and picked up the wooden staff she was laying on, and made her way down the alley, only taking a cursory glance at the hovel. She saw bodies, and a table of packed goods and little else. She continued into the main causeway and followed the crowd quietly to the adjacent tower. Unhurried, she slowly made her way towards a boarding house, with its windows covered with boards to keep the meager possessions inside safe. She moved into the alley next to it, where the stench of rotten meat and slop hung in the air. She moved towards a stone stair that led into the side of the boarding house and bent down. Tracing her finger around the bricks, she grasped the edge of a loose one, and pulled it away from the stair. Inside was a folded slip of parchment. Nodding to herself, she pulled it out. Like most messages it was encoded. Unlike most, it was somewhat verbose.



> To Agent “Doxx,”
> 
> You are hereby recalled from your current mission in Sharn. Our agents have uncovered communications about Emerald Claw activity involving members of several Dragonmarked houses. While it is not clear on the nature or intent of the activity, you are required to get to the bottom of the matter without hesitation or delay.
> 
> Our only lead involves a meeting between members of House Kundarak and House Medani in a town called “Denning.” While we do not believe the houses are directly involved in Emerald Claw activity, it is likely they may be manipulated by the Order. We must be careful before launching accusations or direct action against the Dragonmarked Houses if they are indeed directly involved.
> 
> Your orders are to infiltrate that meeting and offer your skills to assist in whatever endeavor they are planning. Gather as much information as you can and relay any information you receive to an agent arriving from Atur. The Agent will be part of a military patrol and will respond to the passphrase “Thank Kaius for your fortitude.” The proper response is “It is Moranna’s will.”
> 
> Remember; you should not be expected at this meeting, so it will be up to you to come up with a story on why you are there and how you know about it.
> 
> Travel by Orien coach and Lightning Rail will be provided from Sharn to Denning using our normal process.
> 
> Best Fortune!
> 
> Moranna ir’Wynarn






“What in the?” the woman muttered. “I just started getting a handle following these Lanterns, and that odd pretender. Now…this?” Doxx frowned. “And Denning? There isn’t anything out there but ranches!” She snapped her fingers and a quick gout of flame incinerated the letter. She replaced the brick and moved back into the thoroughfare muttering to herself.

“I can only hope that I got better than steerage on the Rail out.”




“I notice that we are travelling west, and not south. So, where am I going and why?” I asked.

“For the moment, it’s for a simple reason but a thorny problem that must be solved,” Taryn started. “But first, here’s a quandary for you. Do you know how many tons of meat that a three thousand Mror army needs for a week?” I shook my head and he continued. “About two tons. Now once we start marching, and we overwhelm the enemy we need about eight times that, plus a constant supply line. Now of course, once we take the mine, we need less, but you get the idea; without food an army goes nowhere. So, two years ago, I made contracts with every ranch in Karrnath for their cattle in preparation. And therein lies the problem.”

“What problem?” I said unclear on the issue.

“The main ranches I contracted with haven’t delivered, and messages haven’t been getting through either. The most likely explanation is—”

“—Orcs? Jhorash’tar right?”

“Good guess, but no. Melisandre believes it is Ogres.”

“Ogres?” I said dubiously.

“Yes…the western side of the Ironroots have quite a number of them, and they are cunning and eager to eat horseflesh, and cattle alike.”

“I am not a rancher you realize.”

“No of course not. What I need you to do is to scout ahead and find out exactly what’s been going on. Then you will meet back with your other members of your group and take action.”

“Wait…alone? I don’t even—” I protested.

“I have arranged for a number of Blademarks to accompany you and guide you to the ranches north of Denning,” Melisandre said.

“And time is somewhat pressing,” Taryn continued. “We can’t wait for the others arrive, as they are probably two weeks behind us. So, you will go with the Blademarks, find out what is going on, and then return to Denning where the group of you will address it, however you feel best.”

I set down the brandy and massaged my temple with my right hand. “You have made the assumption that I agreed to do this you realize? What exactly are you offering here?”

“Well, Kaelin Skolhanker is…generous. For skilled personnel such as you, percentage of profits from the mine for five years. With a guaranteed floor of a thousand gold coin a year. However, the payout is expected to be far higher. More like ten times that.”

I leaned forward in disbelief, “That…that is impressive. All for finding…cows.”

“Well, there will be other expected work of course, but…in essence yes,” Taryn said smiling, leaning back. “All you need to do is sign.”

Debrika’s silence was broken by her reaching into a small bag at her side, and from its interior withdrew a large book. A book that I was certain could not have fit into that bag, and she laid it none to gently on the table, causing the glasses and flatwear to jump on the table along with me in my seat. I squinted at it the large tome in confusion and pointed at it. “And that is?”

“The contract.” Taryn said mildly.

“The *whole* book?” I said looking at it with trepidation.

“Well…there are room for addendums, but it is really a standard Mror business contract.” Taryn said taking another gulp of his drink.

I opened the book and looked at the text inside. I could tell it was in a dwarvish script, which didn’t concern me. But Taryn reached over, and turned the pages to near the end saying, “And you sign here.”

I took his hand from the page and moved it aside and turned the pages back to the beginning. “I don’t sign contracts without reading them.”

Taryn blinked in surprise, and I noticed that Debrika raised an eyebrow and I think gave me a slight smile, while Melisandre chuckled. “I don’t think I have seen some one insistent on reading a standard contract before,” Taryn said.

I looked at him in the eyes, “Where I come from contracts…have a high price if you don’t read them. Usually a cost most people really can’t afford. So, while I don’t exactly see you as a soulmonger, a habit is a habit.”

“Take your time, you can agree in the morning if you like. Anyway, Debrika and I have some work to finish this evening. And we can discuss any questions you might have, after you’ve had an evening to think on it. Good night then, Myrai. I do hope we will be doing business together.” And he smiled and took my hand gently and squeezed it, while Debrika gave me a curt nod. And then both returned to the First Class cars, leaving Melisandre and I alone.

Melisandre smiled and chuckled, “You are a pleasure. So surprising, and so much potential. I have no doubts you’re are the right person for this. Please accept.”

I motioned, and the large book closed and then floated off the table, to hang in the air with my rod. “I was serious on what I said with contracts.” I replied.

The Khorvar nodded, “Yes I know that…but please do. But think of it as a…favor to me. I did tell Vernan to assist you after all.”

I looked at Melisandre, my eyes narrowing. “So, you did have a hand in my…freedom. Why do I warrant that much attention? Seems…I don’t know, a bit much for dealing with cows.”

The woman shrugged, “Remember what I said that my House does? We anticipate threats, even if we don’t always know where they might come from. And while I don’t know everything that might happen; I am certain that you, and the others, are the right people to deal with the challenges ahead. No matter the cause or the source.” And she smiled again and stood up to my surprise. “I too must apologize, but I also have some preparations before we get off at Cattbron tomorrow afternoon. We can talk more then.” And she straightened out the front of her dress and passed by me, heading where Taryn went. But she paused as she stood next to me.

“And you do look quite fetching in that dress. Keep it,” she said smiling.

“Even if I say no?”

“Sure. But call it intuition; you won’t.” And she made her way to the curtains, which were held out of her way by a Warforged attendant.

I sat there looking out the panes of glass at the now darkened landscape, reflecting. I didn’t know Melisandre, but she reminded me of old planewalkers in the Society of Sensation. Some would call them ‘jaded’ but the truth was more complex. The older one got in the Society, the more one tended to close themselves off to new ideas, experiences or concepts. After all, they had seen so much, that it colored everything they saw in the present.

Melisandre gave me that same impression; very experienced, very certain. Almost too much so. I didn’t know her, and perhaps her experience was dead on. But something nagged at me that she knew more than she was telling, and the only thing I was certain of was this:

I didn’t know the right questions to ask.

*Session Notes:*
And that makes seven.  The players wanted a lot of background impacting the adventure.  And so there was a lot of story and some untended consequences.  Well at least for the players that is.  But it worked.

As a side note;  the town Denning noted in Doxx's note. was named in honor of Troy Denning.  The reason for that, was this adventure was originally planned to be run in the Forgotten Realms, in the area of Hartsvale and some of the information from from the novels in the  "Twilight's Giants"  was used to start the background, and a new central town was needed.  But the players decided that Eberron would be more interesting.   So the town was kept, and everything was moved.


----------



## Nthal

*A Party of Characters - 12/6/2020

Two Weeks later, Denning, Karrnath*​
Sage looked out the window of the private Orien carriage. It was only the second time he had travelled, with the first being when he left Cyre for his assignment for House Kundarak. Over the course of the day, the conditions outside changed dramatically. The early morning in Cattbron was freezing as a blizzard dumped snow thick on the ground as icy winds blew through the Railtown. But as they travelled north, the temperature grew warmer and the air became more humid. Frozen ground gave quickly away to sludge and mud. Mud so thick in places, that many of the coaches were separated as they found themselves stuck or needed to assist unsticking others.

But it seemed to Sage a waste to dedicate an entire carriage to just himself. It was also strange not to be asked to assist or help in any way. In fact, when Sage offered, it was turned down, apologetically, as if he shouldn’t be concerned with trivial matters. This deference wasn’t something he was used to and he found it discomforting. Sage felt like he should always be doing something. Idle hands were a wasted opportunity. So, the idea of not being allowed to help was strange. Was this normal? The Mror he was sold to, and then worked for valued work and work ethic. And while they did enjoy time to do nothing productive, like drink and eat, But, it wasn’t nothing. They always did something they valued. Siting alone in a carriage not allowed to help because he was using a highly paid ticket was absurd. But the effort to make a fuss about such things wasn’t worth it.

So, it appeared that all Sage could do was review the spells in his spellshard, as the countryside slid by. The frozen plains and low hills near Cattbron, gave way to a forest of oak and beech, and the occasional pine. The scent of the wet leaves hung in the damp air as it warmed. The train of carriages and wagons stopped only once during the two-day journey, circling up into five different clusters to ‘keep wolves at bay’ said the Orien teamsters.

The evening was uneventful and boring. Only some merchants, and drovers of Cannith supplies were in the circle, which meant that cattle and gambling were the only topics of discussion, neither which interested the Warforged. And the others were content to leave the massive hulking juggernaut alone.

But the next day travelled quickly, as the air continued to grow warmer, with the occasional light shower and no sun. But as much as the drovers complained, it mattered little to Sage. Weather were not counted on the list of foes; just a condition to endure or use to your advantage. And so, he endured it, until finally just as the sun was setting in the west, the carriage reached Denning.

Sage took an interest in the frontier town, as they approached. A low wall, a man and a half high surrounded the main part of it, with some farms nested along the outer walls. As they approached Sage noticed that the town and its walls straddled a fast-moving river. As the carriage bounced onwards, Sage could see arches connecting the walls over the rivers. But as they entered the main gate he noticed that the walls on a single section was much higher; around thirty feet or so around a large building with a pair of slender steeples, shaped like needles.

Sage regarded the fortifications with confusion. The walls seemed impractical; too low to keep any assault from coming inside. And as they entered the town gate of Denning, he realized that the walls were as equally thick as tall. This would make them impractical to breach, but why bother? It would be just as easy to scale with ladders or hook and rope. As the carriage transitioned from the mud to hard cobble, he saw something else odd. There were palisades flanking each side of the interior of the gate, each one half the height of the wall. But their orientation made sage think they were designed to prevent someone from leaving the town, as opposed to protecting the gate.

Past the gate doors, the road was very wide. Six carriages could have easily shared the width of the street and was lined with shops. Many focused-on feed and tack for horse, and other necessities related to ranching. A pair of smithies for working iron, but little in the way of weapons, or at least none were visible. The town showed no signs of damage or reconstruction; like The Last War had somehow spared it. But as he looked closely at the the building passing by, he noted that there were signs of work deferred. Most windows had lights within shining, but a handful of structures had been boarded up, their occupants long gone. Sage reassessed and realized that if the war had not come here, it had taken its fair share of people away to die on a distant battlefield. Korunda’s Gate had that aspect to it too; no battle ever occurred there, but there were numbers of homes shut and sealed as Mror left and consolidated their holdings..

The carriage crossed a bridge spanning the swift river and entered a spacious town square. From here, Sage could see signs marking the location of a Sivis message station, Valadis stable, and a small building with the Jorasco sigil hanging from an iron bracket. From behind the buildings another steeple with a solitary bell, rose into the sky. And of course, there were more outfitters of equipment and supplies for ranchers. Finally, the carriage came to a stop in front of a two storied stone building. After a moment, the Orient drover, jumped down from his seat, and pulled open the door on the coach saying, “We’re here.”

Sage grabbed his steel shield and shifted carefully his large metallic frame, causing the carriage to sway as he exited. He saw that darkness was now settling into the town, and with it the air cooling. But fortunately, the rain had decided to stay away. Looking up, he saw that he was being dropped off at a Ghallanda licensed inn called ‘The Drover’s Rest.’ But he had barely started to lumber forward, when bounding out of the front of the Inn, came a halfling shouting eagerly.

“Welcome! Welcome! You are all…wait…only one?!?” the halfling asked puzzled.

Sage looked around, as the drovers pulled the carriage away leaving him alone with the halfling. “The wagon train was separated by weather and mud. But I did not know others wer—”

“I understand…not a concern at all…hm…which one are you?” he said looking the Juggernaut up and down. “Well…you do look like a Redoubt I suppose?”

“Sage Redoubt.”

The halfling smiled, pleased with himself. “A good guess then on my part. Anyway, my name is Findo…Findo Gask,” and he held out a hand, which Sage shook awkwardly. “No luggage I see,” he said looking around at the ground. “Well come with me; a room has been provided for you of course, and Taryn has a private dinning room for all of you to meet and eat as it were,” and Findo led Sage inside.

“’All of you’? How many are expected?” Sage asked.

“Oh, he said to expect ten in total, but you are the first guest to arrive,” Findo said as they entered the inn. It was warm with two fireplaces lit, and oak tables scattered around the room. The center was dominated by a bar of wood surrounding a pair of large barrels, each the size of a carriage in itself. A female halfling was running on a ledge inside the bar, getting drinks, while a pair of human girls were doing the same to the tables on the outside. On the far wall was a door leading out, and a staircase leading up.

“This way,” and Findo gestured and led Sage to a passage to the left, which had a pair of double doors set into the left wall. The passage also continued to the kitchen, where he saw a pair of halfling’s scamper and preparing for their guests. As Sage reached the doors, he saw that there was a Warforged inside the kitchen hauling a box and they had stopped to look at Sage. The Warforged, stiffened as it regarded him, for a moment, and then continued its work, disinterested. Findo then opened the doors to the room, and ushered Sage inside.

The room must have been tailored to the local hunters. Animal heads were mouned on the wall, and the chandelier was made of racks of deer horns. A long table was set out with chairs pressed against the walls. On it, a spread of food was set upon it, various game meats, fish, breads and the like. In the middle of the table, various bottles of liquor, wine and a small keg of beer were set , with mugs and glasses placed within easy reach around it.

“Help yourself, to…well…anyway, Taryn will be down once the rest have arrived,” Findo said a little awkwardly, but with a smile, and he closed the door behind him.

Sage stared at the food and drink on the table, and then looked at the flimsy looking chairs set around. Shaking his head, he moved over to the window, set his shield down and waited for the others to arrive.




Trudging through the mud on that same night another coach made its way to the town of Denning. Inside, the coach a solitary figure brooded and spoke to themselves aloud.

"I know we're a long way from Sharn. But a hero doesn't choose the source of the call for help. He just answers."

Sitting alone inside the coach watching the road roll by, with the hood of his cloak obscuring all but his mouth, the elf spoke loudly enough to be heard outside the cabin. The driver on the other side of the window called back hesitantly. "Beg your pardon? We don't normally talk through the glass, I usually just drive and—"

"Don't worry, citizen, I'll overlook it. Your curiosity is understandable. It's a common reaction to meeting me in person."
With a brief, awkward glance over his shoulder, the driver said "Sir?"

"That's right. The Savior of Sharn. The Cloaked Crusader. The thin black line between order and anarchy. The one they call… The Blade."
"The what?"

"But there's no need to be intimidated, citizen. I'm just a man… a heroic man with the weight of an entire city on his noble, powerful shoulders."

The driver's head suddenly twisted much too far in the direction of his passenger, and an absent-minded tug on the reins sent the coach veering wide. Immediately he snapped them back, abruptly pulling the coach back on course.

As if unaware of the swerve, the cloaked figure continued. "But there's more to fighting crime than simply being amazing. The weak and the innocent are plagued every day by deadly threats. So they need a hero who's also a deadly threat. And I threaten those deadly threats deadly…ly."

The driver's head remains stiffly facing forward. For only a second, his mouth opens silently before closing again.

"I know what you're thinking, citizen. I can see it in your eyes," he says to the back of the driver's head. "What makes a man choose heroism? What makes him strive every day to crush the slimy worms of crime under the righteous boot of justice?"

"I didn't—"

"Well forget it, friend. My story is too long and… storied for one coach ride."

"Oh thank—"

"Suffice it to say: A new enemy of justice has emerged to threaten The Blade. But little do they know, they've made a powerful enemy today. And the enemy of my enemy is… me."



“And of course, thank you serrah, for your hospitality,” came a voice with a distinct drawl, as the doors opened.

“Of course, Rosa d’Jorasco,” said Findo. “Please help yourself, and Taryn will be down in a while.”

A brown haired halfling, walked into the room nodding. She looked at the heads and chandelier with distaste and moved to the table, stepping on a long step stool set in front of it. She reached forward, toward one of the bottles, and poured out a honey colored liquid into a glass.

“Are you just goin to stare out that winda, or are you going to be polite company and say ‘Hello?’” she asked without turning.
Sage’s head turned slightly from the window. “Hello. Rosa correct? And a Reacher from the sound of it?”

“Did the drawl give it away my dear?”

“Accent is common among population on the eastern edge of the Eldeen. I was given training to recognize it years ago. I am Sage Redoubt”
Rosa chuckled, “I guess guilty as charged. So, what brings a big fella like you here?”

“A letter, and questions. And I assume him as well,” Sage said.

“Him?” and Rosa turned, and there in the corner near the door stood a shadow of a figure. A glass of wine in hand. His cowled face exposing the fine features of elven cheeks and chin. A long bow was leaning against the wall in easy reach, while the leather cloak was pulled back, revealing a coiled whip and a pouch at his sides.

“I do have questions,” the elf said simply with a gravelly whisper. “Melisandre knows things, and I would like to understand how.”

“And what is your name then?” Rosa asked smiling.

“You may call me… ‘The Blade.’”

Rosa tilted her head and looked at the elf with disbelief. “The…Blade?”

Sage took a step forward toward the hooded figure and looked him up and down.

“But you aren’t carrying one,” Sage pointed out.

“I don’t understand your point,” came the figure’s reply.

Sage was about to respond when the door opened again, the voice of a nervous Findo saying, “Ah…yes…food is in there Mobad…and drink I suppose.” Inside strode a grey skinned true blooded Orc. He moved directly to the table, drawing a short sword and sliced off a hunk of ham. He then stabbed it and brought it to his jaw where he tore off a chuck with his canines. He stood there chewing, and glared at the others before saying “Whut?”

“Ah..well…help yourself Mobad,” Rosa said as the shock wore off.

“I am.” And he shoved a chunk of ham into his mouth.



The carriage pulled in next to the ‘The Drover’s Rest’ a human male with blonde hair stepped out and thanked the driver. and watched as the carraige pulled away. Taking his stick in hand, he looked at the coach as it pulled away. The man then looked around, and then quickly moved to the right side of the inn, and circled around it in the darkness. Finally, they found what they was looking for. There in the light of the windows, were a line of privies, and a brick lined path leading to the side entrance of the inn. The man made his way quietly over to the entrance and took a deep breath, before quietly opening it.

The door, opened, admitting the grey and silver haired old woman. Doxx quickly shut the door, and then slowly made their way around the bar. They saw two distinct groupings of people. The first were ranchers and hunters, locally dressed in working clothing. The others were merchants on the road, looking to make business. Each sat apart from the other. As Doxx made their way around the bar, they noted the conversation were the same from both groups; the weather, and how the cattle drive was late.

Neither was of interest. Doxx then spied a pair of doors, not far from the front entrance and close to the kitchen doors. They moved over and sat at the bar and was watching, when a halfling came out of the kitchen and spied them.

“Ah yes, another guest. You are expect—” Findo started to say.

The old woman turned their head and smiled. “—I doubt that sonny.”

Findo frowned and his brows furrowed, “I was told that to expect an old woman, are you sure—”

“—I am certainly not expected by anyone. But you do have another guest.”

In the Inn’s doorway stood looking around uncertainly was a Warforged in a battered brown cloak. The halfling quickly made his way to him saying, “Ah, you are the other one, Captain—”

“—Just…Bookshelf. Where am I…?” and looked and stared with curiosity at the old woman seated at the bar, when Findo waved at the Warforged to follow him.

“This way, everyone is in the private dining room. Follow me please. Flinsa can you send a girl to tell Taryn that all but one of his new guests have arrived!” Findo said and he led Bookshelf to the dining room doors. All the while Doxx nodded to themselves.

“Did that woman come back?” Flinsa asked.

“Not that I’ve seen!” and Findo yelled before heading off to the kitchen.

“Yeah one moment dear…whatcha want sweetie,” Flinsa waved at a one of the barmaids, who ran up the stairs and then she ran over to Doxx’s seat behind the bar.

“Just some water…my stomach can’t handle the brew anymore,” Doxx said almost absently, as they watched the warforged entering the dinning room.

“Sorry about that…we do have some milk that might settle your stom—”

“—No…water. Milk gives me gas.”

“Oh dear…did you need any thing then easy on the constitution…broth or boiled foul?”

“No…but what’s with the side room over there?” Doxx asked.

“Oh that? Private party for a Kundarak. All of them from out of town.”

From Doxx’s left they heard a loud clambering down the stairs. Glancing over they saw a pair of dwarves dressed in Mrorian styled clothing and armor, and two Denieth Blademarks moving down the stairs.

“—First the cows, now Melisandra, then Myrai, and now our missing guest. What else is going missing Debrika…don’t answer that! I don’t want to know.” Said the male Mror with short hair and cropped beard, followed by an armored dwarf female with a maul shaking her head. They both stood in front of the doors, and the Blademarks took position flanking the entrance. And with a deep breath, the male opened the door shouting with a smile.

“Yes, yes good evening gentlefolk! I am Taryn d’Kundarak and I am—" when the door shut cutting his speech off.
Doxx frowned. Perhaps they should have said they were expected, but that wouldn’t do if the real person arrived. They’d would have to bide their time and wait.

“Here’s your water hon,” Flinsa said. And Doxx took an absent sip, when the doors to the dining room suddenly were flung open. The female dwarf had emerged, with her maul resting on her shoulder, and in her other hand she held a letter. She glanced around for a moment and locked her eyes on Doxx. She stomped over next to the old woman and looked at her scowling.

“You are late,” she growled.

“I’m sorry I don’t know—ACK!”

Debrika had with a single arm swung her maul, shattering the stool the old woman was seated on, landing her flat on her back. The entire Inn grew quiet at the exchange. Debrika leaned down in a hush growl almost repeated herself.

“You are late…Doxx,” and to the old woman’s surprise, Debrika dropped a letter on her chest. Doxx blinked and coughed, sitting up. And looked at the letter which said to their surprise ‘*To Doxx.’ *They ripped open the letter and read the contents in confusion:



> To the Changeling agent by the name “Doxx”
> 
> Greetings! I represent the honorable Taryn d’Kundarak. Taryn is interested in retaining your services for a mission for a partner of House Kundarak. The mission’s objective is simple; return the control of a gold mine back to its original clan owner.
> 
> I am sure that this letter may come as quite a shock to you, as this makes your other missive from Moranna somewhat superfluous. I can explain more when we meet. But keep in mind that, your discretion, skill and value come as no surprise to us. What might be a surprise is that your original mission was compromised by another party. That party if allowed would delay the use of your services for us, yourself and your King. Perhaps permanently.
> 
> You are invited to discuss terms with Taryn and myself in person. We had originally arranged First Class transport, but I doubt that is necessary by the time you read this. Please ask Debrika for your stipend when you get a moment.
> 
> Yours,
> Mellisandre d’Medani
> Research and Staffing



​Doxx blinked in the silence of the Inn. They then coughed and stood, looking Debrika in the eye.

“I think I know the way.”

*Session Notes:  *

First, this campaign was notable for having a number of people interest in writing stories about it.  This first one contains one of and about the more than famous 'The Blade' by his player Ryan, who was kind enough to give me permission to repost.

Second you wont find either Cattbron or Denning on the map of Eberron.  But you will see some pictures on them in the next post.

Third, Findo Gask the innkeeper.  Findo Gask in reality is the name of a village in Scotland, which I have personally been through.  However, the name has been appropriated multiple times, including by Terry Brooks (which no one realized when the name was used for that innkeeper.)   

Last, Doxx's introduction was convoluted.  mostly because he was given the wrong draft of the intro letter which you all read now.  So, an equally convoluted and ridiculous method of getting things on track was used.


----------



## Nthal

On Cattbron and Denning:


----------



## Nthal

A Past Recollection - 12/18/2020​
“Ah wonderful! Thank you for finding our wayward guest Debrika,” beamed Taryn as the old woman limped into the doorway followed by the dour Mror. Doxx surveyed the lot and saw a motley band. A full blooded Orc gnawing on a ham bone, a halfling drinking some mead, a shadow of an elf in the corner, with a glass of untouched wine in his hand, and a pair of Warforged, one a large Juggernaut, and the other one, with almost no plating on it in any way.

“And who might be this…ah…venerable, person?” the halfling drawled as she took a small sip of her mead, looking at the woman dubiously.

Taryn smiled and looked at the old woman, “Indeed, how should we address you?” and looked at her expectantly.

“Oh…old Doxx is fine,” the woman smiled and moved to the table and them she poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the table.

“She doesn’t seem to be the type for this endeavor,” the Juggernaut remarked.

“Any endeavor,” the other Warforged said, quietly.

“What’s the stupid job,” the Orc said bored with the entire exchange.

“Ah yes, well…in the interest of time, you are being hired as a group of…well…problem solvers. My Uncle is setting up a march to take back a mine known as the “Draktenflugen” or Drak’s Sieve in the southern Ironroots. And as part of this, we need able bodies and minds that can handle challenges an army cannot. All for a percentage of proceeds from the mine over the next five years with a guara—”

“—I don’t mean to be rude, but why are we negotiating in a ranch town, and not in Mror?” the halfling asked.

“A good question, Rosa. The fact of the matter is we have a problem that needs solving here. We need cattle to march the army, and the cattle are missing, and no messages returned as to why. Our best guess was Ogres but—”

“—Ogres? Not smart enough to ranch. I know this,” the Orc stated.

“Quite right Mobad, but the Ogres are hungry and are organized enough to raid and steal them. Why bother raising them, if there are others that do that for you?” Taryn held up both of his hands in a helpless gesture.

“Why?” the elf said, still holding a glass of untouched wine.

“Why what? Mr. Blade?” Taryn answered.

“*The* Blade,” the elf corrected. “Why us. Why a d’Jorasco, an Orc, an old woman, a late model scout, a Juggernaut and a hero such as myself?”

Taryn smiled again, “I hired a woman who has a reputation in finding the right people. And she believes all of you are it.”

“Melisandre,” The Blade said quietly.

“And I don’t suppose we could ask her?” Doxx asked, smiling.

Taryn frowned, “Well…I think that is a reasonable request. And I would…except she isn’t here. She was delayed in Cattbron and was to have arrived by now. However, if you all sign on, I will make her available when I can. If you have issues then, we can go our separate ways.”

“So, what exactly did you need doing?” the juggernaut Sage asked.

“Simple enough I hope now you are all here,” Taryn said. “There are two ranches to the north; the Tannock and the Keldran. We will head there, and confirm if there is an Ogre problem, and assist the ranchers with their problems, so they get the cattle down to Cattbron.”

“We?” the slender Warforged asked.

“Yes Bookshelf,” Taryn addressed him. “Debrika and I will take a small group of Blademarks to one, while the seven…sorry six of you go to the other. We then return to Denning, and by then Melisandre should have made her way here, or if not, we’ll find her in Cattbron.”

“You said seven first…why?” The Blade said.

“Ah well…yes. I had sent a member ahead to do some…reconnaissance. She had five Blademarks with her, and we were to meet here. But she hasn’t returned. So, I want you to look for her as well and find out what happened.”

“Where are these ranches?” Rosa asked. “I’m not familiar with the area after all.”

“Two days ride north; the trail is well marked I have been told. And yes, horse will be provided,” Taryn said cutting off Bookshelf’s question before he started.

“Well…all of this for a pile of gold from a mine. Why not? Although I still want to have words with Melisa—” started Sage when everyone else agreed. Even Mobad who was disinterested in the conversation before, was engaged now.

“I will make her available I promise,” Taryn said raising his hands defensively. “If that is all, Debrika can you please produce the contracts?”

Debrika opened a small bag at her side, and reached in down to her elbow, and one at a time, produce a set of thick tomes, each one alone, far larger than the bag itself. She went to each person in turn, handing them one, and then she set a seventh on the table, open to a page with two signatures.

Each of the others cradled their own tome, when Doxx voiced everyone’s’ thoughts.
“You have *got *to be kidding.”



The doors to the dining room were open, and the various members were drifting around the main bar. Taryn, Debrika and their Blademarks had already retreated upstairs for the evening. Mobad took his place at a table, chasing off the farmers who were sitting at it prior and settled his attention on one of the serving girls. Bookshelf moved to a corner and sat alone, while Sage moved his lumbering bulk upstairs. The Blade, Rosa and Doxx clustered near the bar.

“Well,” Rosa started, “I expected something, but not track down a herd of cattle.”

“Yes, my dear,” said Doxx in a tone resembling a doting grandmother. “But I do want to have a word with this Melisandre. She does seem to be in the know of…many things.”

“Too many,” The Blade grumbled. “But until we meet, questions will have to wait. And as for the other—”

“_WHERE IS THAT WOMAN?!” _a voice bellowed from the door. Turning, the trio saw a heavily armored man, flanked by a foursome of liveried men. His eyes swept over the suddenly hushed crowd. He strode inside, and threaded his way through the inn, searching.

“She isn’t here, and hasn’t been for weeks, Gard.” Flinsa said with a slightly raised voice in challenge.

Gard turned and strode to the bar, as his men scattered around the room looking at the patrons. “That’s convenient. You *sure* you haven’t seen her? She’s wanted back at Salenhold for questioning.”

“My! What in the Nations did this woman do?” Rosa asked aloud. Gard turned his attention to the halfling, and slowly strode forward towards her. Rosa glanced at her sides, and discovered that both the old woman, and the cowled elf had slipped away from her flanks, leaving her to face the bellicose warrior

“That woman…what was her name? Myrai…she is wanted for the illegal use of sorcery on the Warlord’s soldiers,” Gard said his eyes flashing anger as he answered Rosa’s question.

“I wasn’t aware of such a crime in the code of Gali—,” Rosa started with an innocent drawl when she was cut off with a snarl.

“Karnnath is under martial law, and *here*,” he snapped, “The Code of Kaius takes precedence.”

“I…I see. Well, we were told to…keep an eye out for her by…another party.” she said mildly.

“Really?” Gard straightened up looking at Rosa with interest. “Well then…its five hundred gold if you can bring her to Salenhold. She does need to be able to…answer questions.”

“I understand completely,” Rosa smiled sweetly. Gard narrowed his eyes in suspicion and nodded.

“I am glad you do. As I am willing to entertain…accomplices as well.”

“Well…is there anything else we can do for the Warlords’ fine men?” Flinsa said trying to cool down the agitated man.

“My men and I are riding out tonight and do not have time for frivolity,” he responded coldly.

“Of course not! But I can get you some fresh goods for this evening’s camp. If you and your men ride your horse to the back entrance, we can see you supplied and on your way. Just knock, and Box will see to your supplies.”

Gard’s face softened a little bit nodding, “That is…kind of you. Your inn certainly represents the best your license stands for.” He then turned to look at Rosa again, “Five hundred. Salenhold. And good night.” He said and turned, snapping his fingers. His men, looking around the room for a woman who wasn’t there, quickly responded, and fell in line behind the warrior, and the five departed slamming the door behind them.

“He sounds like a patriot of order,” Doxx said sardonically, suddenly appearing next to Rosa. She turned and was about to lecture the woman, when she heard the gravelly voice of The Blade on her other side. “Not a hero, just a man pretending.”
“Where in Khyber did the two—” Rosa started angrily at the pair when Flinsa came up to the three with drinks in hand.

“Thank you for distracting them. They have a tendency to cause a lot of…problems.” And she clapped her hands, and the two serving girls came out from the kitchen and resumed their duties. “I hope not to intrude, but you really should leave that woman—”

“—Myrai?” Rosa asked.

“Yes her,” Flinsa said. “Leave her out of anything Gard wants.”

“Do you know why he’s looking for her?” The Blade asked with interest.

Flinsa grimaced looking around to see who else might be listening. “It’s not much to tell, but like with most things, it isn’t what was said, it was what wasn’t”



“Wy…you told me that the pain would go away,” I said keenly feeling my muscles complaint as I sat at the bar.

Wy, a dark haired, tanned human man in his late thirties grinned, “You weren’t kidding Myrai, you really hadn’t much time in the saddle.” He took a quaff of his ale and turned to look at me with amusement.

“Like you couldn’t tell in Cattbron?” I retorted.

“I just wanted to confirm my suspicions were accurate,” Wy said mildly.

“I think you had a fine idea when you laughed your ass off at my poor attempts to ride that first morning. Flinsa, another please.”

Wy looked at me with concern, “Not for me to tell you how to handle your pain. It’s one thing to shame my men and drink them under the table. But you do have to get up in the morning.”

“As long as I don’t dream…I’ll take my lumps.” I said. I had discovered since leaving prison that my mind had decided to return to prior habits. Last night at the camp, I scared Wy and his blademarks with me screaming myself awake. I spent a good part of the watch apologizing to the others who I woke up and couldn’t return asleep.
The Blademarks, were an experienced team. I had learned from their leader Wyan or ‘Wy’ as he preferred, that they had worked together over the last ten years as a group. They served somewhere in Karnnath during the Last War, but had managed to create a name for themselves, and were in high demand when a team was needed. Of course, even as jaded as they were, I was something novel to them.

We had a brief introduction in Cattbron by Melisandre and Taryn, and I was ‘interrogated’ over dinner. Well…It was friendly, but I guessed that while I was nominally in charge, that a Deneith Blademark did have a responsibility to protect their patrons. And as such, they inquired to understand who they were protecting. On that first night, I kept them up until well after Anti-peak, telling them stories of pirate dens, lost tombs, and hobgoblin hordes. They found my story of me breaking out of a Soldorak jail hilarious and they were equally relieved that I had ‘spent time in the mud,’ camping and wasn’t some pretty city girl.

But over all the time in the last six or seven months, I never rode a horse. Carriages and wagons yes. But I never sat stride one before. Wy knew this from our conversation, and the next morning, he took me to the Valadis stable. There the master found me a gentle mare, who I swear was smarter than I was. It was strange, learning to guide her with the reins, and after a little practice my knees. The frosty cold wind in my hair was exhilarating. And bone chilling as the afternoons hot bath confirmed I needed warmer clothes.

Clothes and supplies were purchased, horses secured, and Melisandre introduced me to a Cannith worker that supplied me with access to some local magic that I could incorporate into _The Apochrypha_. I really wanted to try them before we left but it was quickly forgotten as we journeyed north. But all the prep did nothing to ready me for the pain.

My legs felt stretched in the wrong directions, my stomach and rear ached from trying to sit in the saddle properly. The first day I didn’t notice it. The next morning however, I was in a frightful amount of pain. So, when we saw the walls of Denning it was a sight for sore…well not my eyes.

“You’re the boss,” Wy said.

“Sure I am. Your men wouldn’t follow my instructions if their life depended on it,” I pointed out.

“Well…they might. But we don’t let it come down to that,” Wy finished his drink and stood down from his stool. “I’ll be back; the ale is seeking a new home.”

“You’re on your own for that,” I said smirking and feeling the warmth of the liquor soften my mind. I watched him walk off to the side entrance. He didn’t stagger; he was fully in control of himself and his faculties as he made his way to back where the public privys were found. Wy was a rugged man, and it had been a while since I spent time alone with any man that wasn’t…well…far off friends. I found myself watching his posterior with admiration as he left the bar, and I sighed contentedly.

“Here you are dear,” Flinsa said pushing me another whiskey in front of me. “You know five of these is a l—”

The door to the front of the bar, slammed open, and I heard booted feet enter. I didn’t turn but as I took a sip, I saw one of the two girls who waited the tables, practically drop her tray on the bar top, and rush into the back. I frowned wondering what that was about, when I heard a nasally voice speak.

“Ethena…come over here and get our order!”

I turned, and saw a quartet of men, in brigandine armor, taking a seat at a table. All had deposited their helms with a loud clunk on the wood. I glanced and saw Ethena, the second serving girl, gulp and looked at Flinsa with a look of desperation. Flinsa gritted her teeth and sighed, and closing her eyes, said nothing, but motioned with her head towards the men.

Ethena swallowed and straightened up and walked quickly to the men and was about to ask them a question, when the nasally voiced once, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down to sit on his lap.

“Now then…you should look us all in the eye, when we ask for what we want,” he said with a sneer.

I clenched my glass in my hand as I watched. Ethena, her eyes closed simply asked, 
“What can I get for you, good sirs?”

“Now now…you need to look at us,” and the man ran a finger under her chin, forcibly nudging her head to face in his direction. He then swatted her on the cheek, and I could see her open her eyes, meeting his gaze.

“Ethena; you know us better than that. A pitcher of ale for the lot of us, and you can come back to warm my lap.”

“I..I..have customers to serve!” she said looking for a way out.

“Nah…your mate can serve the rest. In fact, why don’t you stay here, and let her fetch the drinks.”

“I’d rather—” and she tried to stand, when the man jerked her back down to his lap.

“I think you do what the Warlord’s men command you do,” he said in a cold tone.

“I think you should let her go, and take your ale like good little berks,” I said finishing my whiskey and slamming the glass down.

The four men suddenly noticing me, stared uncomprehendingly. The one with the nasally voice stood up, almost dumping Ethena on the floor. His comrades in arms quickly followed in turn. I could hear Flinsa hiss, “Miss don’t…this will be trouble.” If they heard, they gave no indication, but the man addressed me.

“Well…what do we have here?” he said as I turned around and faced him, still sitting on the stool. “A golden-haired minx with…my word. I can see myself in those peepers!” he said as he drew close. In my left hand I removed a small circular glass mirror from my pouch. I spun it on the bartop casually, while touching my right hand to my symbol on my chest, all while whispering quietly to myself as I pulled on a single white strand.

“You’re clearly not from around here,” he said. “We probably should take you in for some…questioning. Never can be too safe.”

I straightened up and looked the man in the eye, gave a wan smile and said simply, “I don’t think so. And I think you will leave the women here alone.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Wy had reentered the inn, and had a hand on his sword as he looked at the nasally voiced man with contempt.

“I think its best you come with US,” and he reached for my arm. He was perhaps a hand width away when he stopped, his hand outstretched. He looked it his own limb with confusion, and he started to lean into his hand, trying to force it to touch me. He instead found himself pushing against some unmovable object. His face grew redder and redder as he strained harder and harder to secure me in his grasp.

“Flinsa another please,” I said calmly, and I heard the halfling move off and uncork a bottle and pour. All the while the man tried to get closer to me. Finally, he barked an order at his men, “Don’t just stand there!”

The three others came up to me and they too found them constrained. A half circle of men reaching out with their hands trying to close the gap in futility. Their faces contorted with effort, frustration, and in the nasally man’s case growing anger. Flinsa slipped the glass to me and I took it in hand and calmly took a sip. Just then the nasally man vented his frustrations aloud.

“What enchantment is this? What have you done to us?”

“Nothing. But my god, has my back. Not yours,” I said calmly but my head swimming a bit. “And you do not challenge a loyal servant of Death, unless you have dug your own grave first.” I said feeling a bit of fire in me.

The nasally man’s face paled, “By the Dark Six…the Keeper?!? Here?” I tilted my head in confusion. But the men backed off and returned to the table and collected their helms.

“You best make yourself scarce. We’ll…we’ll be back.” And the four made for the door, each clamoring to be first. As the door slammed behind them, I realized that the inn was quiet and all the eyes were on me. Turning I looked at Flinsa and she too looked at me.

In fear.

I didn’t understand, and I heard Wyn move next to me. “We should get you out of here.”

“No wait…I don’t understand. Who…who is ‘the Keeper?’” I asked.

Flinsa and Wy glanced at each other before Flinsa answered me. “He…he is one of the Dark Six. He steals the souls of the dead for himself and—”

“—He’s the god of death here?” I asked suddenly concerned.

“I…I…guess,” Flinsa said nervously.

“Flinsa. Wy. I apologize, and I swear…whoever this Keeper is…that is not my god! The god I worship…he doesn’t steal souls; he guides them to their final place. He wants us to *live* as long as we can, and not die before its time.” I saw in their eyes doubt as they glanced at each other.

I bowed my head and stood up unsteadily. “I…should probably lay down. I ‘ve caused enough excitement as it is.” I started to walk across the room to the stairs, feeling every eye follow me each step of the way. I was just heading up, when I heard behind me Flinsa call.

“Miss Myrai…thank you.”



“She then left the next morning with the Blademarks, and that’s what I know,” Flinsa said, pouring a water, a mead, and patently ignoring the untouched wine in The Blades hand. “The only trouble she is in, is showing up the Warlords men. But when they returned, she was already gone.”

“Lovely men,” Doxx said disapprovingly.

“Yes, well…not all of them, just a couple of the have caused problems for my girls. And Gard too…he’s the worst really. But Myrai is the only one who ever spoke up for them. So, I’d rather not have anything happen to her.”

“What about this god then she worships?”

“I only know she said that she didn’t worship the Keeper. She didn’t really tell me anything else.”

“She has a strong sense of faith. Interesting,” muttered The Blade, fingering something beneath his tunic, where a necklace might be.

“Well, I hope you find her before Gard does. Excuse me,” and Flinsa moved down the bar to fill a patron’s drink.

“Well…I suppose we should get some rest then. I will see you tomorra,” Rosa said, and she slipped off her stool to head upstairs.

The Blade and Doxx looked at each other, before The Blade spoke, “Justice doesn’t sleep, and nor do I. But I must prepare.” And whirling his cloak, the Blade made his way upstairs. Doxx looked around, and noticed that sometime during the story, Mobad and Bookshelf had also disappeared to the rooms above. Nodding to himself, and humming quietly, Doxx made her way over to a chair near the fire, and settled in. As she did so, she heard a noise, and she turned her head around before looking upwards into the rafters. There, a raven stretched out its wings and preened a bit before looking Doxx in the eye.

Doxx shook her head and stared into the fire letting her eyes droop. Her exhaustion finally won out, and soon Doxx was snoring softly.

All the while the Raven looked on. It ever took its black eyes away from the sleeping old woman. All the while it quietly, and ever so softly, laughed.

*Session Notes:*

Everyone was starting to get a feel for the characters at this point;  while the wealth of the gold mine was there, it was nothing compared to the desire to meet Melisandre.  That really became a focal point for everyone really.


----------



## Nthal

Four Oaks - 1/3/2021​(Apologies on the tardiness...holidays are a thing)​

The next morning had no sun, just like the days before. The gloom of grey clouds hung overhead, threatening rain on the drenched town of Denning. The gloom even pervaded the Inn, where Doxx slept fitfully in the chair near the fireplace. The old woman opened her eyes slowly, noting that Findo had started placing a new log on the fire, to stir it to life. He turned and nodded at Doxx with a smile saying nothing.

Doxx stretched and realized that sometime during the night, someone covered them with a warm blanket. Stretching in the chair, they saw that Taryn, Debrika and their blademarks were already down and were talking quietly. After a brief exchange, Debrika and the blademarks headed out the front door.

Doxx smiled, and rose from their chair and moved over to Taryn, who seated himself at a table nearby. Doxx moved quietly behind the seated Dwarf, who studied a tome laid out on the table’s surface.

“Yes Doxx?” Taryn’s tired voice grumbled as Doxx froze in her steady approach. Doxx tilted her head, and smirked at being observed so casually.

“Ah, yes. Nice to see the evening’s drinking didn’t wear out your senses,” Doxx said as she sat down at the table next to Taryn. “I had wondered what you could tell me about your assistant.”

“It’s probably best you ask Debrika about—”

“—No, not her. The other one. Melisandre.”

Taryn looked at Doxx levelly saying nothing, as Findo laid a plate of steaming sausages and a mug in front of the Mror. Doxx looked into the Mror’s eyes and the Dwarf returned the even expression. Findo smiled and moved on back to the kitchen.

“She did say you would be…curious about her. She is simply, my assistant in finding the right people, and you can ask her yourself when she arrives.

Doxx smiled, “As you said. But I am…uncomfortable with…the exposure as it were.”

Taryn took a deep sip of his drink and gave Doxx a hard look. He then said, “I understand. And as someone who…_professionally_ understands your concern, I think it is best you let things lie until the two of you can talk.”

Doxx squinted at Taryn and caught the undercurrent of the Mror’s tone before nodding politely. They then heard the creaking and groaning of the wooden beams above. Coming down the stairs the juggernaut made its way cautiously, as if in fear that the stairs would fall away from the massive warforged’s weight.

Juggernauts were a rare sight these days; the heavily armored living constructs were never common, but they had the reputation of being implacable foes as unrelenting as the armor plate they wore. But this one, Sage Redoubt seemed to have a glimmer in its eye; more curious, more attentive.

More dangerous, thought Doxx.

Sage stood in contrast to Mobad now coming down the stairs. He was in many ways nature’s answer to the warforged. Equally large, Mobad was a figure of pure muscle beneath thin leather skin, and none of Sage’s curiosity. Coming down with the Orc, came the halfling Rosa who spoke to the Orc in her drawl, “Well now…hopefully that will help the itch you had prior. Let me know if you have anymore problems."

The Orc grunted and seated himself next to Taryn and Doxx, as if expected. He pointed at Taryns meal and shouted. “More o dat!” while Taryn and Doxx continued to stare at each other.

“Oh Taryn, I’m going to check in at the House’s lil enclave here before we set out, if you don’t mind.”

“Feel free to,” Taryn said, never tearing his eyes away from Doxx.

“Don’t bother Rosa,” Findo said bringing out more plates of various meats and eggs. “The house closed up the Enclave some twenty years ago when the war for Karnnath got a little hot. You might be the first one we’ve seen in as long a time.”

“What?” Rosa said in surprise. “You mean we left the town without help at all for almost two decades?”

Findo, motioned to the seat next to Mobad for the Halfling to sit at. “Your House was quite clear, that ‘others’ had greater needs. But honestly, a lot of the locals thought it was because most of the ranchers’ wouldn’t pay the price of health.”

Rosa blushed a moment before recovering. “I..I can’t say I agree with that perspective.”

“Most citizens aren’t clear on priorities,” came the gravelly voice of The Blade, who now stood silently next to the fire, dressed in his black cowled cloak. Rosa turned to look at him with frustration.

“Sir, you must stop doing that!”

“Doing what citizen?”

“Just…appearing out of nowhere with a comment like that!”

The second warforged, Bookshelf, came down the stairs hurriedly, and moved to a corner of the Inn, with a tome clutched in its arms. It placed its back against the wall and read the book, its eyes looking over the cover at the rest.

Sage moved over to the smaller Warforged table and spoke, “Interesting reading there?”

“Nothing you would find interesting,” Bookshelf said as if issuing a challenge to the Juggernaut.

“I don’t know about that. I find myself a curious observer. Like noting how the fortifications to Denning make no sense. Any army could get in here with ease.”

“Ah…they are different,” Findo said as he offered a plate of cheese and bread to The Blade. “But they aren’t meant to keep things out; they are meant to keep things in.”

“That makes no sense,” The Blade said.

“It does if you were worried about Ogres,” said Findo as he gathered some empty plates. “Its too expensive to build walls to keep them out, but since the Ogres around here just want horse to eat, the walls are a problem enough to keep Ogres from lifting horses over them. They have to use the gates, and the gates on the inside have enough protection to keep the Ogres from escaping with a horse or two. “

“Have they been tested recently?” Sage asked curiously.

“About once or twice every five years, and then the Ogres remember why they leave the town alone. Honestly the ranchers have more issues with them, but usually they just find a weak member of their herds and let the Ogre try to take them.

“You mean they aren’t that dumb then. Interesting.” The Blade said thoughtfully.

“No; they are. But they do learn, and they are very very cagey. Good at pits, ambushes and deadfalls. But not smart enough to trade.” Findo said confidently. As he moved in the kitchen, the Inn’s front door opened, and Debrika stepped inside and nodded at Taryn.

Taryn tore his eyes from Doxx and smiled. “Excellent; we can get started.”
Outside the Inn, stood a number of mounts, all with the brands on their flanks indicating they were a part of the Valadis stable nearby. Nine magebred horses waited patiently for their riders, as several stable hands checked cinches and saddles on the mounts. Three of the mounts were massive; the breed looking to be the type used as a heavy draft horse, but each with a wide leather saddle. One was a much smaller pony, its stirrups pulled close to the saddle, so a halfling could control the beast.

“Excellent; Good work Debrika. These should do nicely.”

“How far to the ranches then?” Rosa asked as she looked at the pony dubiously.

“A day to Four Oaks, and then the Ranches the evening after. Beats a four day walk,” Taryn said, selecting a smaller horse and pulling himself up into the saddle gracefully.

“Four Oaks?” Doxx asked. A pair of Valadis stable hands attempted to help the old woman into her saddle, to which she batted away with her stick. As she easily pulled herself into the saddle Taryn responded.

“It’s a campsite kept up by the ranchers for folks going north. Its well marked, and usually has a stock of dry wood, and access to water. And if we are ready, we can head out and reach it before the weather turns.”

Bookshelf looked at his mount blankly, unwilling to mount it.

“If it can hold me, it can hold you.” Sage said astride one of the draft horses, who only nickered as the juggernaut mounted it.

“I know it can,” Bookshelf said morosely.

“What is the issue, citizen?” The Blade asked, seemingly at home in the saddle.

“They never seem to do well in the horrors of war,” Bookshelf said, as they pulled themselves up into the saddle. “Or anything else beyond basic transportation. And I have a strange feeling about this job.”

“Like what?” Doxx asked in a grandmotherly tone.

Bookshelf shrugged. “I don’t know. Horses just seem to die a lot.”

“Not interested. We should move.” Mobad said, sitting tall on another draft horse.

“Indeed. Onwards!” called Taryn. The group clustered together, and they made their way to the northern gate, and began their trek to the northern ranches.



The clouds threatened, and roiled and churned above, but they never saw a need to empty their contents upon the road or its travelers. The river valley floor was a large plain, but they travelled on the eastern ridge, staying close to the hills. The valley floor had also scattered copses of trees here and there. The air was a damp chill in the morning, but as the horses moved northward, the air warmed. By late in the day, everyone’s skin grew slick as the sweat poured down their foreheads.

“First spring isn’t here, and now we’re thick into summer,” one of the blademarks grumbled.

“It’s a nice change,” Sage remarked looking around for something interesting.

“It’s nothing _but _change!!”

“Compared to the same vault for over five years…its nice,” Sage said resigned to the difference of perspective.

“You’ll want to crawl back soon enough,” Bookshelf muttered.

“You have a bitter view of the world,” Doxx observed.

“No. I’ve seen its best side. And it isn’t different from its worst,” the slim Warforged said.

“Oh, brighten up. A warm fire and a stretch will do us all a bit of good. That and some old oak trees would warm my heart,” said Rosa with a smile.

“Well then, look ahead down into the valley,” Taryn boomed. Ahead, the trail dipped down to the floor of the valley. There in its center stood four massive trees, oaks. Oaks as old as Galifar’s founding it was said. Their twisted trunks extending a hundred feet in the air, full of gnarled branches, with only the hint of budding green on the tips.

“That does warm my heart…I wonder what they have to say.”

Following the wide trail, it ran next to the oaks. There under the canopy of branches were logs split into benches surrounding fire pits. An earthen berm stood near, with canvas covering the front to a log stand. Hitching stands for horses, away from places to pitch tents. It was a travelers’ rest; well designed and well maintained. Scattered here and there were large bushes between the tent flats.

Rosa wandered around breathing in the air and admiring the ancient oaks. Oaks that would seem more at home in the Eldeen based on their stature and majesty. As she walked, she took out from her pouch a pair of looped mistletoe and hung one on each of her ears as she sung quietly to herself. As she sang, she heard the deep baritone of warm elderly wood as the empty branches shook in in a light breeze.

“Hmmmm…a druid calls to sing with us…such a nice change.”

Rosa smiled as she sang softly; the trees didn’t need much to hear, or rather feel what was around them. “And good evening to you great oak. And how are the seasons for you?”

“Hmmm…. too quick…too quick…winter was here…now it’s gone.,” the oak whispered softly.

Rosa nodded, “The weather seems all off…far from here it was still frozen and snowing.”

“Ice and snowing? It has been long since the rings said the weather was upside down.”

Rosa walked around the oak, and looked back at the camp, where the horses were being hitched, and tents set up for the evening. Mobad, while not having much talent for working with people, seemed to have a way with the magebred steeds. Doxx, was having a one way conversation with Taryn while the two blademarks were starting up a fire under Debrika’s watchful eye. The Warforged made themselves busy looking for dry logs. Finally, The Blade was moving through the camp, his bow drawn looking around at the bushes.

“Anyone else been travelling here recently?” Rosa sang to the great oak.

“Hmm….yes. A nice couple came by either. That one had quite a rack—”

“—I beg your pardon!—”

“—At least twelve points…maybe more and still hadn’t shed them. He was quite impressive.”

Rosa laughed at herself for a moment, “No no…not the natives. People…humans or others like them.”

“Oh…not in while…been many dawns since…but there was a small herd of little ones that passed by. Had manners those did. One was strange though; had a touch of something different. And she had a small one—”

“—A child?

“No…no…”



“You might as well let him roam up there; he’ll come down when he wants.”

_--See now? Listen to Wy

Goss…really? 

--I do like the outdoors. Besides keeping watch requires a certain altitude.

Attitude.

--Whatever. Anyway, I’ll be watching from up here._

Wy prodded at the fire with a stick “I know you are talking to him,” he said with a smirk.

“And?” I said looking at Wyn, with a note of irritation in my voice.

“He’ll come down when he’s ready.”

“I suppose.” I looked around. There wasn’t much to the campsite ‘Four Oaks.’ Horse stands well away from the fire and the clear spots for tents. Logs surrounding fire pits, and a stream to get water. However, compared to the spot of bare earth I had camped in before I suppose it was a bit more sophisticated.

“I take it there is a bit of traffic on this trail,” I said still looking over the site.

“A bit. The ranchers use it as a way stop for the drives towards the south. I heard the throng of cattle outside of Denning makes for quite the sight…and the smell.

“Make sense,” I said nodding.

“You would think so…but it’s the wagon trains north that are more interesting.”

I looked at Wy with confusion, “Wagons…what’s north from Denning?”

Wy shook his head, “Specifically I don’t know. Generally, I can tell you that House Cannith has a private train heading up north followed by another heading south after about two weeks. Happens every three months. But you can tell it’s a great secret in the way that no local talks about it. You ask, and you get a silent shrug.”

“Alright, so what does it mean?” I asked, a little annoyed at the game being played.

“There’s a Cannith installation somewhere up north. Probably the worst kept secret too. As to what they are doing; that’s the real secret.”

I sat down on a log and looked at the fire and then at Wy.

“So…the Ogre problem…”

Wy shrugged, “You saw Denning. They built the town walls to keep Ogres from stealing stuff. And it works; you know how you can tell?”

I shook my head and waited.

“Almost no guards. The Ogres tried their luck, and gave up. They may not be the smartest bunch, but they do know to pick on better targets. I would say stealing a cow or two would be easy but…”

I leaned forward a bit, “But…what?”

“Have you ever seen a mage bred cow?” I shook my head and Wy continued. “Well…they are much larger than the Ogres, and the Ogres aren’t great cattle drivers. A band might try to pick off a weak one, but only if they outnumbered them. And besides…mage bred horses are more to their taste. Literally.”

“Acquired taste?” I asked helpfully.

“Yes…and magebred horses are easy to lead. So easy that—”

“—I could do it?” I said giving Wy a level gaze.

Wy grimaced, “Your skills _are_ much improved. But the horses are too well trained…Ogres can lead them around…anywhere they want to go, as long as that halter is on their head.

I turned to look at our horses, tied to the hitching posts nearby. “So, we at risk of losing our horses?”

Wy thought about it a moment, “Well, the Blademarks reputation might give them pause, or they would go and get more to even the odds. But a lone Ogre or two like we saw—”

I squinted hard at Wy, “What do you mean ‘like we saw’ Wy.”

Wy shrugged, “While you were setting up your tent, Griff saw a pair. Once they saw they were spotted they bolted. We are a good day or two from the western slopes of the mountains, so we are probably safe. Might be more a problem coming back I suppose.”

“Any reason you didn’t tell me?” I asked pointedly.

“Slipped my mind; it wasn’t to keep you in the dark.”

“Well,” I sighed. “I know what I am looking for at least.”



“Strange one that one was…but her pet enjoyed sleeping in my branches.”

“Did they come back?”

“Hmmm which ones? The one with the nice—”

“—No, the other—"

“—The small ones like you, or—

“—Yes the…wait or? Or what?

As Rosa sang to the oak, The Blade moved around the bushes carefully his bow half drawn. He was more at home in the urban heights and gloomy rain of Sharn. Here he felt exposed; like anyone and everyone could see him. But all of that was a distraction, as his gut told him, something was amiss. As he walked around the soft muddy earth his cloak caught on a branch, and it snapped as The Blade walked by.

The Blade whirled at the sound. Seeing that the others didn’t even turn he bent down to look at the broken branch. Picking it up, he turned it over in his hand and then pressed with his thumb against it. It quickly snapped under the pressure. The Blade repeated this, moving toward the base of the branch, each time it snapped quickly and easily.

“What are you doing Blade?” Sage called out to him, over Rosa’s singing.

“_The_ Blade. This bush is bone dry dead. Yet…” he leaned into the bush sniffing. “It smells fresh…like pine?” The Blade stopped a moment and looked at the bush, and realized it wasn’t a pine nor related to one. He looked up an around wondering where the smell was coming from then.

“Or the bigger little ones,” the oak sang.

“Bigger little ones?” Rosa was trying to figure out what the Oak meant. “Well first, did the other small ones return?”

“…umm…. no.” the Oak murmured.

“But the ‘Big Little Ones,’ did?”

“…ummm yes…still here with you little ones.”

Rosa’s furrowed her eyes in confusion and turned back to the camp. She saw The Blade close by a bush and looking around upwards.

“What are you doin dear?” Rosa called out.

“Looking for pine, citizen,” he replied circling the bush and sniffing the air.

“Pine?” Rosa said aloud softly, a little puzzled.

“ummm….Pine? There is no Pine here,” the Oak rambled. “But the big little ones do smell like that yes.”

Rosa waved her hand in irritation as she tried to think. As she looked at The Blade, she realized that he appeared to be growing, as his head started to get closer to the oak branches above. Quickly glancing down she realized that was wrong, it was the bush growing taller. And then she realized the truth.

The bush and the soft earth around the dry roots rose. Underneath it, was the bald misshapen face of a humanoid, with broad ears and a bulbous nose. Its body had smeared over it, a black tarry substance that gave off the strong smell of pine. In its hands it held a human sized long bow with an arrow nocked. Rosa quickly glanced side to side and saw that about a dozen other bushes rose from the earth, each with a ‘big little one’ armed and ready to fight.

Rosa screamed at the top of her lungs;

“OGRES!”

*Notes:*

I will say, trying to weave the two separate sessions to the same game is a bit of work.   There was a lot of though put into the area like how DO you deal with ogres, and bits of lore about Cannith, how Ghallanda knows a bit of everything.  But the players were still trying to gel how their characters did (or did not) get along with each other.  Doxx did press Taryn quite a bit about Melisandre.


----------



## Nthal

Ogres and Ranches 1/30/2021​(I've been swamped, but I have freed myself to write more often once again.)​
Bookshelf looked straight at Rosa at confusion and then turned to look at The Blade being lofted into the air. The ogre below him, took aim with a bow and shot an arrow to the nearest figure to them, the old woman Doxx. They wondered abstractly if they would need to bury the old woman, when Doxx spun as the arrow hit her chest.

Except it didn’t as Doxx completed her spin, Bookshelf noticed in surprise she opened her hand and dropped the arrow to the ground. “Interesting,” the warforged remarked, and they watched as the old woman leapt at the ogre, swinging her stick and smacking it three times, each one causing her foe to yelp in pain, until the ogre was staggering around in a daze. Bookshelf shrugged, and they pointed their finger at the same Ogre, and a beam of cold white light emitted from their finger, striking the ogre in the torso, causing it to bellow and fall to the ground.

As it did so, The Blade made his move and jumped down from the ogre’s hatlike bush and took aim with his longbow, missing with his first shot. But as he moved to gain distance his second one sank deep in the hulking humanoid’s chest. Looking around, The Blade saw that more ogres had emerged. But instead of attacking, they headed to the sides of the campsite. The Blade watched one pair of ogres moving quickly, discarding their bushes, and ran to one of the horse stands. With one on either side, they squatted and tried to pull up the wooden posts from the damp earth. “Citizens! They are after the horses!” he shouted, which was followed by the sound of bone cracking.

Turning Bookshelf saw Debrika had swung low with her maul on another ogre aiming his bow at Taryn, and had connected it squarely with its knee, causing it to bend an unnatural angle. It howled in pain and dropped its bow in favor of a club, and swung at the dwarf, connecting solidly in the chest. But she didn’t even flinch or give ground. Debrika simply spat on the ground, smiled and waited. The ogre looked at the solid dwarf in confusion, when suddenly from a smokey mist, Taryn appeared, swiftly swinging a short sword, making four deep cuts in its hide, causing dark blood to spray everywhere. Bookshelf noted this aspect of Taryn; he was more than just a simple merchant or Dragonmarked scion. Behind the Mrors, another pair of ogres made for a second set of horse stands, and too were working to remove them from the earth. Close behind them, Taryn’s Blademarks with drawn swords ran to stop the abduction of their mounts, but neither blows seemed to register with the focused ogres.

“Face ME!” Mobad bellowed and Bookshelf saw the orc, charging towards another ogre. The ogre shot the rampaging orc, but it didn’t stop him. The orc raised his axe and brought it down, through the bow and deep into the chest of the ogre. The ogre blinked in surprise at the assault, bellowed and quickly pulled out a club and swung it at the raging orc, only to find his blows bouncing off Mobad’s grey skin, all while the Orc continue to hack away at his prey. Bookshelf nodded in satisfaction, knowing that Mobad was unlikely to need help.
Meanwhile, Sage Reboubt pursued another pair of ogres heading to the third stand of horses. The Juggernaut, charged at the pair; his massive steel frame, caused the ground to tremble as he bore down towards the ogres. Affixed to his arm, was a warforged arm blade, which he pulled back for a large swing. As the massive warforged started to swing forward, his blade erupted with a green flame, slashing the first ogre, who bellowed in pain. But the flame spread to the one next to it, searing the ogre’s flesh. Both ogres stopped in their tracks, and both swung a club at Sage, but he simply clanged his blade against his shield, causing a quick flash of light. The ogre’s weapons never found their mark as they seemed to hit something solid in front of Sage. “That’s even more interesting,” Bookshelf remarked realizing that the Juggernaut wasn’t some simple sword and shield for the line; he had arcane skills as well.

Bookshelf heard a crack and turning they saw that the tiny Rosa had created a whip of vines and thorns, and she used it against the ogre where The Blade once stood on top of. The whip wrapped itself around it, and the halfling pulled the ogre straight towards herself, heedless of the danger, as she yelled, “Now, you just leave my friends alone.” Bookshelf fired another white beam of frost, striking and slowing down the ogre as it turned to smash Rosa.
“You should stay back Rosa!” The Blade said, as he ran through the camp, loosing four arrows at the Ogres trying to steal their mounts. Shooting on the run, each arrow found its mark sinking deep into ogre flesh, and each causing an ogre to grunt in pain. As The Blade ran, he passed the Mrors and their blademarks, all trying to stop the theft of their horses. Their ogres had managed to lift one post out of the ground, but were now busy trying to defend themselves. Debrika swung once, and leveled one ogre, while Taryn quickly darted around another, slashing it with deadly drawcuts, spilling blood everywhere.

Mobad had turned into a storm of fury, slaughtering his foe, and charging headlong into the ogre who Rosa had given a whipping. His greataxe and body was covered in dark blood, but in his fury, the ogre somehow managed to avoid the orcs uncoordinated attacks. But it wasn’t so lucky from a swiftly moving Doxx, who’s stick slammed into the side of the ogre, with the resulting sound of cracking ribs and the ogre bellowing, “Not faaair!”

Sage ignited his blade, and the flames once again seared and slashed at the ogres, unable to get close to the horse stand. They howled in frustration as they swung, their clubs only bouncing off the juggernauts’ shield with no effect. Bookshelf was considering their options, when they heard the sound of a horn blow from the edge of the campsite.

There stood a lone ogre female, who must have stood a head taller than her kin in the melee. Her face was knotted in frustration and disapproval. Her frustration grew, as The Blade fired another pair of arrows, piercing the ogre’s hide easily. She blew the horn again, and the ogres in the camp, ran towards the female. Bookshelf concentrated and a bead of fire started to manifest in their hands when the female spoke.

“YOU! THE PRICK!” and the female pointed at the elf who turned and aimed his bow at the sound of her voice. “YOU BEAT US. WE REMEMBER YOU!”

“It’s ‘The Blade’ you stup...Just go!” the elf retorted. The would be thieves all ran past the female with the horn, and after all the surviving horse rustlers passed her, she then turned and retreated into the darkness. The sounds of the horses panicking settled down into tired whickers, and everyone’s labored breathing started to slow.

“Is anyone hurt?” Rosa shouted, as she moved back into the campsite.

“I think Mobad got shot,” Bookshelf said pointing toward the orc.

The orc grunted, and in response simply pulled out the arrow from his pectoral and discarded it. He was drenched in blood, but almost none of it was his own. As he approached the fire, he waved off a frantic Rosa trying to examine him.

“Did we lose any horses?” Sage called out, as he wiped his blade on a fallen ogre and also returning to the center of camp.

“Good news, no!” Taryn replied, stepping next to a fire and warming his hands. He was all smiles and had a look of giddy excitement. “I knew that Melisandre had found the right people,” and he pulled out a rag to wipe off the blood from his short blade, completely oblivious to Debrika shaking her head in quiet disagreement. “And if the ogres here are the culprits to the missing cattle, they will have second thoughts on causing problems in the future!”

The Blade frowned at this. While the Blademarks, along with Sage moved the corpses to the side of the camp, he knelt down by the one that moments ago was a bush rising up. He looked at the ogre and its equipment, and with his bow poked the body’s stomach.
“You shouldn’t poke the dead like that,” Rosa said as she looked over The Blade for injury. “Last thing we want is them to get back up and smack us.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” The Blade muttered.

“What doesn’t?” Rosa said confused.

“These ogres aren’t exactly well fed,” he said poking the loose skin fold around the dead ogre’s belly. “If they had been taking cattle, I would expect them to be more round.”
Rosa frowned a moment and looked at the ogre’s corpse. “You might be right, this one looks a bit…hungry. Hungry enough to want to take horses from us.” She then hummed a tune looked aloft at the great oak above her. “So, what do know about cattle?”

“Cows? No…no cows. No cow droppings for hungry roots. Not in…a while…” the oak mumbled and drifted off.

“Well the oaks haven’t noticed any in a while,” Rosa relayed. “I wonder if something else is going on.” As she said this, Sage and a blademark, dragged the corpse off to outside of the camp.

“We have to make inquiries at the ranches,” The Blade said, and he moved to the edge of the camp, and quickly climbed up onto one of the oaks, and planted himself on a branch looking towards the direction the ogres ran.

“Hhmm…hmm…tickles…” the oak murmured to Rosa.

“Oh enough…I need to sleep,” Rosa hummed back, and made her way to her tent. Next to it, Mobad was already asleep, his head poking out of his own tent, his axe in easy reach. 

Directly across, Debrika, Taryn and the Blademarks, finally done with the bodies were settling in to sleep.

But in the center Doxx warmed their hands. Turning they noticed that Bookshelf watched the woman intently. “Keep doing that you’ll go blind dear,” Doxx said mockingly.

“I see, things are hidden,” Bookshelf mumbled. “ You aren’t useless as you appear. Taryn very skilled as is Debrika. Elf has inaccurate name, to hide his skills with bow. Juggernaut knows how to use spells. What does Rosa hide I wonder?”

“What do you Bookshelf?” Doxx said, their eyes narrowing at the slender warforged.

“I hide? Yes I do. A pleasant face to hide the…” and Bookshelf looked downwards for a long moment before speaking again. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You are one strange Warforged.” Doxx said and then they retreated back their tent, closing the flaps behind them.

“Did you expect everything to be so open?” Sage said, setting their shield down next to a log.

“Honesty rare. Hoping things were as they appear. Nothing ever is though,” Bookshelf said shaking their head. “Does it matter? Could it matter? Will it save them? No. No it won’t. Hiding never saves anyone; it only makes it worse. Death finds you all the same. Death isn’t fooled.” And the warforged went silent.

Sage stared for a moment at Bookshelf. He had seen dwarves that came back from the war, unwilling or unable to find the selves they left behind. Some did find a semblance of being normal. But Bookshelf seemed to be one that had seen too much and too often. Unwilling to probe the damaged Bookshelf further, he took a stone and a small flask of oil from his pouch and started to sharpen his blade, and pass the night away.



The next morning’s heat woke them before the sun finally crested the Ironroot mountains to the east. The clouds were a solid blanket of grey above, unwilling to provide rain, and equally ill disposed to allow the sun’s light to pierce their veil. It didn’t take long to strike camp; as Sage took time during the night to replenish wood in the covered berm, They also burned the dried bushes, to prevent the ogres from trying again with future travelers. The group finshed packed their things, saddled the horses, and continued north, following the road to the outlying ranches.

The road led up out of the valley, leading into tall grasses and low hills, while stands of trees started to thicken down on the valley floor. The heat only grew, and the damp air made it uncomfortable for the majority of the travelling band. Before midday they came to a split on the road and Taryn halted the caravan.

“Well, here we must part. This branch heads up to the Keldran ranch, where Debrika and I are headed,” the Mror said.

“How far to the other ranch?” Rosa asked squirming to get comfortable in her saddle.
“After midday you should see a marker for the Tannoch ranch,” Taryn replied. “We’ll all meet up in Denning after we see what is going on, and to be clear; I value you. Don’t take any unneeded risks, but please find my cows and find Myrai! Good luck!” and with a quick flick of the reins, the Mrors and the two Blademarks started their way toward the Keldran ranch. The group watched for a moment, and then turned their mounts and continued northward.
The road followed the valley walls, with the forest below growing denser, and grassland on top growing thicker and thicker. It was well after midday when in the distance they saw something standing tall above the grass. As they approached, they saw it was a sign, set between a pair of posts and stretched across a branch in the trail. On the old grey wood were letters carved out in relief the words:

“Tannoch Ranch”​They paused a moment to look around. For as far as the eye could see north and south was grassland, while to the east the grass started to thin as it climbed hillsides and forests on the side of the Ironroots. To the west, the river valley was full of trees, only just touched with green spring buds.

“Well…I can say one thing, he’s right,” Sage said somberly. “Not a cow or a cow cake—”
“—Patties. Or Pies.” Rosa corrected.

“Whatever. None of them either.” Sage continued. “Nor any ogres.”

“Well, hopefully the ranch will have answers. Let’s get moving citizens.” The Blade said sitting tall in the saddle, eyeing the grass with suspicion.

The horses plodded forward quietly along the trail and the light overhead was starting to fade. Along the trail, it the grassland was waist high and swayed in the faint breeze. But for as much grass as there was, there was nothing moving in the grass and certainly no cattle. Even the birds seemed to have abandoned the area. Finally it was Bookshelf who broke the silence.

“Smoke ahead.” the warforged said with a curious tone.

“Chimney smoke,” Doxx said squinting under a wizened brow.

The horses continued, until they reached a simple fence line, made of a single thin log, supported by a pair of shorter logs in a triangular brace. The line appeared to surround a compound of various structures; two small buildings that appeared to be bunk houses, a larger two storied house, and a large barn. Most of the buildings were grey from the weathering, and the bunk houses and the main house all had smoke rising from the chimneys, and lights from everbright lanterns near each of the doors. Hitching stands for horses were lined up in front of the manor house, along with a trough filled with water. But the ranch was devoid of any horses or cattle. It was still, with only the barest whistling of the breeze through the grass and open barn,

The group sat on their horses and looked at the ranch with unease and then at each other with confusion and trepidation.

“Where is everyone?” Sage asked. “I would have thought we would have been seen and greeted by now.”

“It is too quiet citizen,” The Blade said frowning. “But the fires are lit, we should find someone here.”

“Let me look around first,” Rosa said, sliding down from her magebred pony. She walked forward in front of the horses for a number of paces before stopping.

“You should stay…” The Blade started to say, but his voice faded. As he watched, Rosa started to grow, her shoulder and hips broadening. She shifted her stance to accommodate it, and then she fell gently forward, as her hand sprouted claws and then deep brown fur. The fur then spread across her, enveloping her clothing and gear. Her face elongated, and her ears shifted upwards along her skull. She opened her mouth and gave a noise that was between a growl or a grunt, her jaws now filled with larger teeth. Then the bear started to move quietly towards the bunk houses.

“…Or you could do that.” The Blade said as he rested the length of his bow crosswise across the saddle and waited.

Rosa ambled into the center yard and moved towards the bunkhouses. She sniffed the air cautiously as she approached. The scent of burning pine was strong, as was straw and grass and something musky in the air. But ahead she smelled nothing else; no person, no horse, no cattle. Rosa could only make a grunting sound, as she approached the closest bunkhouse. She moved to a window and then raised herself upright, using her forepaws for balance and looked inside.

Through the dirty windows, she could see eight bunks a large table, with some chairs. Around the bunks were pots with plants, their shoots dry, dead and listless. A table with mugs and plates set, with some stools around it, while a fire blazed against one wall. But it was empty of any person or even so much as a cat.

Rosa looked and blinked squinting. She resumed smelling the air, and beyond the smells before, there was no scent and no sign of any person in the bunkhouse. Suddenly, she heard in her ear a sound…louder than a whisper, but it still echoed in her head.

“Rosa, this is Bookshelf. Do you see anything? You can reply to this message.”

Rosa made a grunt, and then with some effort thought back to the dweomer in her head, “No darling. No one is here. Only a lit fire. Come up to the main house.” And Rosa turned towards the two-story structure, and again stood up looking inside a window, next to the front door. She saw through the somewhat cleaner glass, that the fireplace was a blaze here too, near a long trestle table and benches. A stair way led upwards to the second floor, while a hallway wrapped around the side and headed towards the back. Again, her nose told her almost the same story as before; smoke, musk but here there was also the distant scent of pine tar in the air.

Still standing, Rosa began to shrink, and her hair and claws receded back into her body. She scratched her ears, freeing loose fur away as she returned to her halfling self and waited. Soon the others rode up and dismounted from their horses, tying them to the stand. She turned to look at them shaking her head, “I don’t smell anyone; just things related to plants and smoke.”

“Wut idiot lights fire and leaves,” the taciturn Mobad said, his axe in hard as he suspiciously looked around, sniffing the air as if to confirm Rosa’s investigation.

“Some one afraid,” Bookshelf said also looking around.

“If that were true, I should have smelled someone,” Rosa said shaking her head.
“Let’s search the house. Perhaps there is a clue inside,” The Blade stated. Mobad didn’t need any encouragement and lifted the latch and pushed the door open with his massive shoulder. He then moved inside, keeping his knees bent, and his back hunched over, as if ready to take arms against the furniture.

The rest stepped inside, and they too could smell the smokey pine. But no one was cooking, and the light amount of dust on the floor and tables, made the place look unattended, despite the fire on the hearth.

“Mobad, Bookshelf, head upstairs,” The Blade commanded. “Doxx and Rosa, check towards the kitchen. Sage, follow me.” The group looked at The Blade and collectively shrugged and followed the suggestions.

Rosa and Doxx, moved to the left, and passed the table and benched and entered the kitchen area. Doxx swept a finger across a butcher block, pulling up more dust. Despite the fire being lit, there was neither a kettle or pot on it for an evening meal. And looking around, there was no sign of any cooking. No bread was present in the nearby baskets, and no plates were in an empty tub that was likely used for washing. Above them, they could hear the heavy steps of the orc and the warforged as they examined the second floor. But Rosa and Doxx could only look at each other in bafflement.

Meanwhile, The Blade and Sage made their way to the left around the stairs, passing by large cabinets. About halfway down they came to a small hoist that stood above a door in the floor. The Blade bent down and looked at it closely, as Sage took a couple more steps down the hall. The Blade looked around at the dust on the floor, and then noticed that the door itself was clear of it. “Sage, someone has used this door,” The Blade said.

Sage turned and looked over the The Blades’ shoulder. “Indeed. Perhaps they are below.” Nudging the elf out of his way, the warforged used his armblade to lift open the trap door. From below, the strong smell of musk filled the air as they both peered into the darkness.
Just beforehand, Bookshelf and Mobad made their way up the stairs. As they did so, Bookshelf opened a panel on his chest, and pulled out a brass globe, which then emitted a warm yellow light. He tossed the globe up and with a finger gesture, pointed ahead of them. The globe obediently surged forward, shedding light in the darkened floor. The pair climbed the stairs to the landing and looked around. From the landing were three openings to different rooms. As they stepped forward on the wooden planks suddenly Bookshelf put a hand on Mobad’s shoulder. Mobad turned in confusion, as the warforged, put a thick finger to his jaw, and pointed ahead towards the ceiling.

Mobad held his breath and followed where Bookshelf was pointing. There on the ceiling was a panel that led upwards into the attic space. But as he looked, he heard scraping on wood, and a faint amount of dust fell from a crack in the slats above. Mobad nodded and moved ahead and stood just beneath the panel.

Rosa, started to investigate the kitchen further. Something nagged at her as she looked around. After several moments, she whirled and looked around. It wasn’t that bread was missing; there was no food at all to be seen. Barrels nearby that would have contained roots or vegetables were empty. There was no sign of cheese. Opening cuboards it was apparent that the pantry was empty of any food at all.

Doxx in the meantime, rounded the staircase and saw that Sage had lifted open a trapdoor and he and The Blade were peering down below.
“What do you see?” Sage asked the elf.

“Shelves and some barrels. But not the entire cellar; too many things in the way.”
Doxx shrugged, as they walked towards the pair. As he did so, he saw that one of the doors to the large armoire like cabinets was slightly open. He reached towards it and pulled the door aside.

Mobad, leaned his axe against the wall and looked up. Giving himself a three count, he lept upwards, knocking aside the panel with his head, and caught the edge of the hole with his forearms. As his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness, he saw a girl. She had brown hair, set into a messy ponytail, and her face was streaked in pine tar. Her blue eyes bore into the orc, as her the look on her face changed from fear to hate.

As Doxx started to move the door aside, he was struck as both doors broke away from the cabinet, followed by two other cabinets doing the same. From the dark interior, four arms stinking of musk and rot surged forward towards Doxx, as they tried to grab him by the neck.

Mobad blinked in surprise, as the girl surged forward, with a feral snarl on her lips, and the orc bellowed in pain as the girl’s, dagger sank deep into his shoulder, causing him to roar.
A startled Bookshelf whirled around, as he the saw figures, rushing on all fours, from the rooms around them on the second floor. The smell of death and musk strong on them and as they dash towards the warforged and the orc in the ceiling, it was all that Bookshelf could do to shout:

“AMBUSH!”


----------



## Nthal

The Conflagration of Home and Hearth - 2/15/2021​
Mobad came crashing down onto the floor, but quickly rolled and with his great axe swung it at one of the encroaching figures scrambling towards Bookshelf. The axe bit deeply into the back of the musky corpse, causing it to stop. It twisted around and leapt at Mobad, staring with rotten dead eyes. Three others, swarmed towards the orc, each one’s boney claw like fingers trying to rend Mobad’s grey skin.
Downstairs, Doxx swung his staff, landing a series of blows against one of his opponents, and cracked its skull. But heedless of the damage, the corpses pushed the woman backwards. Sage swung his armblade, igniting it with green flame and searing the stinking rotten flesh on both the corpses. But they clung onto Doxx, and quickly pushed him over the open trap door, and then all three tumbled down into the darkness below.

“Doxx!” Rosa yelled as she ran forward in an attempt to grasp the falling woman. But her fingers grasped nothing but air as they fell. She looked at Sage and The Blade, her face aghast.

“Stand back citizen,” The Blade yelled, and pulling his bow out he deftly swung into the darkness with a hand on the trapdoor’s edge to assist him in his descent. Sage however, simply shrugged and stepped forward, and ropped down into the hole Rosa heard the resulting cracking and splintering of flagstone below in the black depths.

Mobad swung his axe around trying to cleave his foes into pieces, when he heard the sounds of an incantation. Suddenly he found himself surrounded with ice and rime, that struck the dead men. Their limbs cracked and snapped as bone shattered in the sudden frost, and he took advantage in the change, swinging his axe and smashing the skull of another corpse, the broad flat side, causing its skull to crumple.
Sage saw little beyond the faint light from above. But he quickly ignited his armblade, sought out a target. The green flames illuminated the woman, who’s fists, and knees connected with the ribs of the corpses clawing at her. Sage then swung quickly, cutting across the spines of the scrambling dead. They twitched, and Doxx crawled out from under them and stood, breathing heavily.

The Blade needed no light and shot the corpses at close range. One of his arrows struck so hard, that it pulled the corpse to the wall, and hung it in a grotesque display. Turning he shot at another corpse, who only paused a brief moment before continuing to stumble forward.
“Thanks for dropping in,” Doxx said dusting themselves off. The juggernaut nodded, and the pair turned to look around. Crates of wood, shelves, barrels and broken furniture were littered around the room. Doxx squinted and wrinkled his nose. The cloying sent of musk was strong in the room, causing them to cover their mouth and nose with the front of their cloak. Then as the sound of a distant impact and yells echoed above, they heard the slow scraping of leather on stone far closer to them.

Looking around, Sage saw shadows in the darkness, making their way to their feet, and slowly shuffling towards them. Sage raised his shield in preparation and said grimly, “However, we aren’t alone.”

The Blade fired another quick volley of arrows, and they struck another corpse, causing it to stumble and fall to the floor. But it had barely rested there a moment, before it started to climb back upright. “Yes, and they aren’t getting the message to stay down,” The Blade muttered, and nocked another arrow.

Bookshelf squinted as the white snow drifted down from the ceiling. Mobad brought down his axes blade down on the back of another corpse, cleaving through bone all the way to the floor. Ripping it away, wood splinters flew everywhere, and he quickly swung and connected with another trying to claw at him madly. To his surprise, two of Mobad crushed foes were struggling to rise. From behind the warforged, he heard a noise and he whirled around and saw more bodies scrambling from another room straight at the warforged. Bookshelf backpedaled towards Mobad when he heard another noise near the orc.

From the ceiling a filthy young girl dropped from hole above. Her long hair streamed behind her, covered in a mixture of tar and dirt. He wasn’t familiar with the ages of humans, but this one wasn’t a child, and might have been in what was…early teens? She ran with nothing more but stained rages, and a dagger covered in blood. Mobad’s most likely.

“Interesting,” Bookshelf said, and they started an incantation. He focused on the magic and created null spaces around the orc, his driftglobe, himself, and then on a whim the girl. The then tilted his head, and muttered, “Perhaps ice alone does not suffice.” In Bookshelf’s open palm a bead of light appeared and then blossomed into gout of flame engulfing the floor.

Rosa, felt the rush of heated air pushed down the stairs, causing her hair to whip around furiously. Tearing her eyes from below, where the Juggernaut and the old woman stood now back-to-back, while The Blade circled around them, taking shots in the darkness. Then she saw to her surprise a young human teen running down the stairs, holding only a bloody dagger in her hand. Flames chased and licked at her unable to set her or her things ablaze. Rosa, stood up and ran towards her, as the girl made for the front door, when she saw motion outside the windows flanking it. Rosa yelled at the girl helplessly, “Don’t open the door!"

The girl if she heard, gave no indication and simply ran toward the door in desperation as the flames surrounding her fell away. She grasped the knob to the door, turned it, and flung the door open. She backed away quicky and screamed as; another half dozen figures streamed inside slowly, bottling each other up as they forced their way through the open door. The girl shivered in fear, and held her dagger close, when she heard a thunderous roar. Turning she saw a great brown bear, lumbering forward and placing itself between the girl and the pack of bodies squeezing through the now door.

“What’s going on upstairs?” Doxx said, hearing the distant roar.

“Rosa has found a problem and is dealing with it in her own way,” Sage remarked.

“Its more than that; I think Bookshelf cast a spell based on the sound,” The Blade said, loosing an arrow and nocking another.

“That’s nice. What about…about…us?” Doxx said in a dreamy voice. Sage turned to glance at the woman in alarm, and saw her stumble falteringly, towards a corner of the room, cluttered with debris and crates. As he watched, he was surprised to see the corpses ignore Doxx as they stumbled past them.

“Doxx! Get back here citizen!” The Blade barked, but made no moves to block the old woman’s effort.
The Juggernaut spent no more time thinking about the problem, and lunged at a pair of close figures, igniting his armblade once again. The sizzling sound of flesh against fiery steel, and the dull crack of bone were the grim reward for his attack, causing one to fall, and the second to stumble. Glancing over his shoulder he watched as Doxx stumbled towards the corner, seemingly unconcerned with the throng of musky corpses around trying to kill them. Or at least only Sage for now as The Blade kept his distance and used his mobility to stay away from their clumsy foes.

Doxx blinked and stumbled towards the sweet musky odor that pervaded the air. As their eyes got used to the dim light, they could make out a mass of roots and vines in the corner. It’s glistening dark green leaves dripped with oil and slime onto the floor. As they approached, a vine moved, and the tip unfurled into a sickly yellow flower, with spots of brown. As it opened, the smell of musk engulphed him in a cocoon of love. The flower reached forwards and Doxx could only briefly acknowledge the pain that coursed through his mind as he stared helplessly at the blossom that beckoned him forward.

Mobad opened his eyes and saw the bodies around him were scoured of their flesh, leaving only charred bones behind. Confused he glanced down at himself and saw no signs of burns or soot. Tuning to look at Bookshelf, they appeared nonchalant as the fire on its palm died away. But as it did the flames caught on the wooden rafters and walls. Grunting again, he knew that there was little time before the beams would burn away and the roof would collapse down upon them.

“Neat trick, choosing not to burn,” the orc grunted, looking around for another opponent. “Where’s the girl?” he asked, and Bookshelf pointed down the stairs disinterestedly. Mobad grimaced and spat, “Your work is bringing down the—”

A shriek cut off the orc, and he leapt downstairs, leading with his axe and colliding with another one of the wretched bodies. Standing again, he wasn’t terribly surprised to see a bear fending off more. What did surprise him, was the girl, rather than hide and cower had thrown herself at the corpses, tears streaking down her cheeks. Grasping the haft of his axe, he grinned and threw himself at the corpses as well with a fierce roar. While he didn’t care much for humans, this one had fire. Fire he could respect he thought as he hewed limb from bodies. Beside him, the bear bellowed and charged into the throng of corpses in a storm of claws and teeth. The bear tried to push the girl behind her, but the girl simply rolled beneath the bear’s legs and continued her assault against the corpses.

The roars of orc and bear stood in contrast to a high-pitched screaming. Sage didn’t understand what was happening above, but the situation around him was already a mess. And now black clouds of smoke were descending into the cellar, making breathing difficult and vision even poorer. His blade had cut through the last of the corpses, their charred remains now hacked into pieces, Sage turned to see what had occupied Doxx. Moving forward cautiously, he saw a flower with delicate filaments attached to the skull of the old woman. Shaking his head, he lifted up his armblade. From his forearm extended a trio of dragonshard crystals. Quickly they spun around and each one launched a brilliant white bolt of energy, each one striking the body of the sick plant that held Doxx in its thrall. In between each one, an arrow from The Blade’s bow also struck deep into the flesh of the plant. As each bolt and arrow struck, the vines and roots quivered, and finally the flower tore itself away from the woman, and it emitted a fresh blast of musky pollen into the air.

“What is this with the produce attacking us?” The Blade grumbled aloud.

Doxx stood there a moment, and then vigorously shook their head. Looking up they were taken aback by the giant plant that now slowly shambled forward towards them. Gritting her teeth, she grasped her staff in both hands and spun, striking the monstrous plant twice. It quivered, leaves and fronds trembling, when another burst of green flame cut and severed tendrils. Sage hacked and sawed at the plant; the smell of burned musk now mixed with the acrid smoke from above. Root and vine fell away and Doxx hit the center of the plant with their staff before finally punching twice more at the bulb in the center, causing the vines to collapse in limp heaps on the cellar floor.

“Thanks Sage, that musk made it hard to think,” Doxx said sounding disappointed in themselves.

“Its something foul indeed,” Sage said. “Perhaps Rosa can explain it. What’s going on—”

From the cellar entrance and the cracks in the boards above, the light of flame from, followed by the roaring sound of heated air. The three looked at each other and scrambled to the cellar trap door. Doxx quickly bounded and climbed out, as if they were decades younger. The Blade easily jumped and with a quick twist of his body, leapt out.  Sage grumbled, and rumbled below the trapdoor, and with great effort heaved his bulk upwards, catching the edges of the door with his arms. Pulling himself up he groaned at what he saw.

Mobad was cleaving corpses, now covered in flames, as a Bookshelf calmly walked down the stairs, using a beam of frozen white light on another. Rosa was clearly the bear in the room and was finishing up mauling a corpse. However, he tilted his head in confusion at the whirlwind of a girl, crying and screaming with dagger in her hand.

“We need to leave!” The Blade yelled. “It’s going to collapse!”

Rosa gave out a giant roar, and lumbered through the doorway, followed by the warforged, the elf and the old woman. They stood outside looking at the conflagration, now consuming the house. Wood cracked and steamed, splintered in the heat, as the roof started to fall in upon itself. Just then, part of the wooden frame fell, collapsing the front doorway behind them.

“Where’s Mobad?” Rosa yelled, as the fur pulled back into her face and body as she returned to her normal size. Then came a rumbling from the second floor, as it collapsed. As it did so Mobad burst out of a window, with his great axe in front of him clearing the way, and over his shoulder, kicking and screaming the dirty girl. He ran from the disaster behind him and slowed and gently put the girl down on her feet.
The girl looked at them all with a dead eyed look, with tears still streaking down her face. She slowly turned around and looked at the house, as the four walls finally gave. And as they all watched, the structure folded in on itself, in a final gasp of flame and smoke. The girl sank to her knees and fell forward onto her hands, her body heaving.

“I’m…I’m…I’m sorry. Jeda. Kalin. Kester. Vern…all of you,” she said in between ragged breathes.

“Now little girl. Can you tell—” Doxx started to ask in a sweet grandmotherly voice.

“Shut up!” the girl spat. With effort she stood up and whirled to regard the party with a cold glare. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again.

“I am Adrissa Tannoch, and this is *my* Ranch. Who in Dolurrh are you?”


----------



## Wilpower784

Aaaaand, we’re live!

Certainly an interesting batch of characters so far. I think my favorite new character so far is The Blade, for reasons I don’t think I need to explain. This whole ranch setup has been pretty cool so far. I enjoy the setup and the eventual chaos that erupts from the seemingly quiet environment. Overall, definitely a different feel from “Souls of Legend”, but right now I’m the most interested in how you’re going to be highlighting Myrai’s character in a more crowded adventure, and to what extent we will be exploring the others as well.


----------



## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> Overall, definitely a different feel from “Souls of Legend”,




It should have a different feel.  JoTL in some ways was about family and finding yourself.  That applied all around, and the Kershak certainly has that mafia style "You can never leave the family."

Thorns...well I think that it shares a lot of aspect of the horror genre.   How much you will see soon, if I can finish my editing tonight.


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## Nthal

Tales by the Houselight - 2/24/2021​
The group looked at each other awkwardly and then back at the girl standing before them. Her posture was a stark contrast to her appearance; matted brown hair, face streaked with dirt. Her clothing was torn, stained and now covered in soot. And while she stood there with only the slightest hint of a quiver in her nerves, her eyes bore into each of them, one by one.

“Now, little girl,” Doxx said, stepping towards Adrissa and smiling sweetly, “Where are your parents? We really need—”

“Don’t ‘little girl’ me,” Adrissa said flatly. “I want to know who *you* are. I want to know why you are here, and I want to know,” and she turned away and stared at the conflagration she had only moments before fled. “Who decided to burn down my…my…home,” she said her voice choking on the words as she stared into the flames.

Rosa bit her lip and then stepped towards the girl, “Honey, we were sent to...talk to your family because they thought there might be trouble.”

Adrissa nodded, “Trouble doesn’t even describe it.” She said, her voice quavering.

“What happened here?” Sage asked. “I take it you know the…corpses that attacked us.”

Adrissa looked down at the earth and sighed. “It started two months ago. It was a normal cold day, when the pots appeared.”

“Pots?” The Blade said thoroughly confused.

Adrissa nodded and continued, “Little clay pots, each with what looked to be a…what did mom call it?...a cutting. A yellow green plant with a flower ready to bloom. One for every bed in fact. My mom thought dad had arranged something, but at dinner he said he had no idea where they came from. That evening we all went to sleep…and the nightmare started.
“I woke up and the cutting had bloomed, and it was moving…reaching for me. I started screaming, and I woke my parents. My father grabbed an old sword he kept from the war and…hacked at the ones in the house and told us to run. We ran downstairs and out of the house. Outside, we found that some of the hands were…dead, and they were gathering some of the others together. I panicked and ran into the grass, while my mom and dad…stopped them from following me. Later I snuck my way back into the house, grabbed all the food I could and hid in the attic and…watched as they did things. And I saw their…leaders.”

“Leaders?” Bookshelf asked.

“They were small…but they were armed. Spears and bows, but the dead listened to them, used them to gather up the rest like our dogs guiding cattle,” Adrissa said choking at the irony. “I never saw one up close, and they hide in the grass real good. Then as the weather warmed, others came.

“What do you mean?” The Blade asked. “More little ones?”

“Yes…but they were…driving. Cattle. Sheep. People. Lots of them. They…they pushed them to the barn, and I heard people scream and they…faded away. And no one ever left.”

“And…your parents?” Rosa asked, her eyes watered expecting a grim answer.

“I didn’t see. They weren’t turned into those…corpse things. But I…I haven’t seen—” and she fell on her knees and hugged Rosa in tears, finally overcome by the ordeal.

Doxx looked at the cavernous barn and frowned. “A bunch of little folk with weapons pushed everyone into a single barn? This doesn’t make sense.”

“None of this does. We are missing something.” Bookshelf said quietly.

“Honey,” Rosa pulled back, and looked at Adrissa and clutched her hands. “There was another group. A woman and some Blademarks. Did you see them?”

Adrissa nodded, “Two weeks ago…I saw them.”



“Where is everyone,” I said. It was midday and we had dismounted from the horses and walked them to the large ranch house.

“Well, I would think the ranchers would be where the cattle are,” Wy said as he and I started tying our horses to the hitching stand.  “But that isn’t here. Men, by twos check the bunk houses and report back.”

“Yes sir,” the Blademarks responded, and in pairs started to look at the bunk houses.
Wy nodded, and looked around. “Well, if it were ogres, they seem to be very neat. Nothing broken or smashed.”

I nodded and thought a moment.

_Goss…what do you see and smell?

--About the same as you; too much time camping and not enough time to groom.

Goss…

--Ah right. Well, I don’t see anything more than you, but I do smell two things. A lot of a strong musky smell…and I smell wet…mold? No idea why._

“Can’t you just talk to him out loud?” Wy said smiling at me.

I chuckled, “And what? Look like I’m talking to myself all the time?”

“That’s just means that you are your own best friend. What did he say?”

“Musk and mold scents…not sure what that means.” I said as I squinted in the window. It must have been dark inside, but with my eyes I didn’t see people or anything. “It looks like no one is home here.”

“That is odd,” Wy said looking around again confused. “I would have expected someone to be here; the wife, children, to be doing things around the house. Some hands in the barn working on tack, fixing things. This is all…wrong.”

I stepped away from the house and used my hands to shield my eyes from the light, and took my own look around. I had a strange sensation though, nagging at me. I looked at the house behind me. But I saw nothing on the upper floor, only the creaking around the eves near the roof.”

“Sir, the bunk houses are empty, but there are a lot of tracks leading toward the barn.” Said Tiggart, a silver Blademark. Wy and I looked at each other and shrugged.

_Goss…keep an eye out. This is all wrong still.

--Of course._

We walked over to the barn cautiously, and it became apparent that we were misled. The barn was farther from the house than we thought. The perspective I had was off for a simple reason; the barn was massive. It was far taller than the ranch house as two of them would easily fit inside the mammoth structure. The barn doors were wide open, and I could see empty stalls with straw bedding. We walked up to the edge of the wood planks and looked around, and seeing nothing obvious, we stepped inside.



“I swore the woman looked right at me,” Adrissa said. “But I didn’t say anything. I was scared to. I knew that the yellow corpses hid under beds and cabinets when they weren’t needed.” Sighing a moment she looked at the others with tears in her eyes. “I watched the seven of them—”

“—Seven?” Doxx interrupted.

“Seven. Six people and that strange cat,” the girl answered.

“Strange? How?” Sage asked.

“It…had wings. I’ve never seen a winged cat before.”

“That’s silly,” Doxx said dismissively. “There isn’t such a thing.”

“I saw what I *saw,” *the girl said, anger creeping into her voice.

“Its just a barn,” Mobad muttered, looking around.

“We are missing something,” The Blade muttered, as he nocked an arrow. Frowning he looked around slowly, when his eyes settled on the hitching stands. “Hold it. Didn’t we tie up the horses?”

“Of course we did,” said Rosa, who was once again embracing the girl.

“Then, where are they?” The Blade asked, his eyes looking over the ranch compound. As the group looked around, it was obvious, the horses were no longer tied and were nowhere to be seen.

“They must have been scared by the fire,” Doxx guessed.

But Mobad leaned down and looked at the ground. Frowning he shook his head.  “No. They did not gallop. They walk…no, they were led. Small tracks between hooves. Not familiar with them.”

Adrissa wiped her nose. “The little ones led animals to the barn.”

“What? We were fighting inside, and they just walk off with our mounts?” Doxx exclaimed.

“You are catching on citizen!” The Blade beamed.

Doxx glared at the elf, “It’s ridiculous.” At that moment, the sounds of neighing came from the barn.

“It seems that the old woman’s senses aren’t very sharp,” Bookshelf commented.

Doxx ignored the jab. “Well, I’m not walking back to Denning, Let’s get them and start riding back tonight.”

“Miss Tannoch,” The Blade said, “Do you have a weapon?” She nodded and pointed at the dagger belted at her waist.

“She shouldn’t be carrying that,” Doxx said condescendingly. “Give that to me.” And he reached for it. As he did so, she backed up and drew it and glared at the old woman.

“She knows how to use it,” Mobad observed, grinning as he rubbed his shoulder.

“She shouldn’t have a dagger,” Doxx said.

“You’re right,” agreed The Blade. He moved over to Sage and took a hatchet that was strapped on the outside of his pack. He then walked over and holding its head, he pointed the handle towards the girl. “She needs a backup weapon as well.” Adrissa looked at the masked elf in surprise and took the handle.

“That’s not what I meant,” Doxx said with disapproval.

“She has been surviving here for months with only a dagger, an axe will make her twice as effective,” The Blade said confidently.

“I’d rather a bow,” Adrissa said sadly.

“I’ll keep an eye out Miss Tannoch,” The Blade replied. “Let’s get our horses.”

Then in the darkness above, a heavy rain started to drench everyone and causing a large cloud of steam to erupt from the burning house.  Eager to find shelter and equally eager to leave, the group jogged over to the barn. The huge structure had no light at all, and to many in the group, all they could see was darkness. But to the Blade, he saw something in the middle of the barn.

“The horses are in a circle, noses inwards,” he said confused.

“More than that…they are tied to something,” Adrissa said.

The Blade looked at her surprised, “Your eyes are sharp.”

Adrissa shrugged. “If you want to hunt at night, you need good eyes,” she said simply.

They continued forward, until all of them entered the barn. It was easily the equivalent of a four-story house, with rafters and ledges on the inside stacked with bales of hay. The sides had stalls for horses, and bedding but all appeared empty. Mobad pushed his way through the horses, and quickly he saw why they were all nose to nose in a circle.

In the center, the reins of all the horses were tied together in a knot of leather and what looked to be rough twine. But the knot was pierced by a spear, embedded deep into the wooden floor, and fixing the horses to that point.  “Someone spiked a spear here, forcing the horses to stay,” the orc muttered. Looking closer at the horses, he realized that something else was wrong. “They aren’t acting right either.” He pushed a horse, and it simply stood its ground and didn’t even glance at the hulking figure. “I think they have been given something.”

Rosa pushed her way to her pony, and grasped it by the halter. She pulled its head to level with her head, and looked it in the eye. “Mobad you are right, I think they have been fed something.”

In the darkness behind them, they heard a noise. It sounded like a rattle, with wood bouncing off of loose wood. Then they heard another rattle. And another. Turning around, they saw at the entrance a score of small humanoid figures. Ten of them held bows, and in front of them, another ten had spears and shields made of leather stretched around a wooden frame. Each shield had a number of strings that ended in what looked to be pieces of bleached wood. Each one shook, causing the wood to bang against the shields wooden rim, creating the sound.

Rosa turned away from the horse and stepped towards the small figures. As she looked at the shields and the figures, she realized that it wasn’t wood on the strings, but bones.

“I think we have a problem,” Rosa said.



“You think Wy?” I said. The humanoid figures rattled their shields faster, and then I realized that the sound wasn’t just echoing around us. Looking upwards, I saw more figures; some with shields and spears, and some with bows.

“Men,” Wy commanded. “ Form a line and, keep the shields up. We’ll have to push our way out, and get our backs to the wall. Myr keep your shield up and face the rear and keep your eyes upwards. Warn us if you can if they start to shoot.”

I nodded, and appreciated Wy taking charge. I didn’t know what these things were, but I didn’t want to be pierced by a dozen arrows either. Looking above there must have been another dozen of the thing looking down at us. Beyond the rattles, I could only just hear hissing from their mouths.

“Ok, lets start pushing for—” Wyn started to say when we all heard a loud crack, and could feel the floor vibrate as something scraped the wood beneath us.

“What in the—” Wy started.



“I don’t know,” Sage said kneeling down and feeling the vibrations in the wood.

“We should charge now,” Mobad said a grin creeping across his face.

“I don’t think that’s a good—” Bookshelf started, when everyone felt a sharp jostling from the floor and a sudden shift downwards. “—idea.” Suddenly, the strange figures stopped shaking their shields, and in response the floor gave way and the group, tumbled down into the darkness, amid screams of terror and the squeal of horses.

*Session notes:*

Now, you might have picked up a clue here that there were some cinematic inspirations here.  There are actually two different major ones (and homages spread around here and there).   Adrissa in the attic is pretty blatant.  But the other one...well we need a bit more before the influence of that book (And subsequent movie) becomes clear.


----------



## Wilpower784

I’m really liking the two different perspectives. Helps give a better grasp of the the world outside the lens of just one party group.


----------



## Nthal

The Pits of Progeny - 3/5/2021​

Doxx didn’t think, they leapt towards the horse stalls. Landing on the wooden floor on their stomach, he quickly rolled and righted himself to see what had happened. Where the floor once stood, it now had pitched downwards, and they could just see the others tumble down into the darkness, chasing after the screaming horses that too slid downwards. As he stood there, the sounds of bow twangs sounded. Catching an arrow in a hand he dropped it and saw only two real options. Gritting their teeth, Doxx jumped down into the now open slide. Landing on the mud feet first, they kept their balance and slide down chasing after the others.

Farther down, Sage slid on his back in the darkness on slippery, muddy earth as they continued deep into the earth. It curved and spiraled, and the juggernaught struggled to find their footing or balance. Around him the others we rolling and twisting as well, and near by he could hear the sounds of the panicked horses. As the slide started to straighten out, he finally was able to right himself, and place his shield in front him. Reaching out he tried to grab the closest person he could find.

His hands grasped something, and he realized he had grasped the halfling Rosa. Pulling her close, he placed the woman behind the shield, and on top of his arm. He then reached out again and grasped a thick arm that felt like orc Mobad.

“Grab on to me, and get the others,” Sage shouted, and as he held on the orc, he leaned forward and pressed the edge of his shield into the mud and used it to slow their descent. Looking over the edge as the mud sprayed everywhere, he saw flickering orange lights ahead. Glancing behind him, he could just make out in the darkness the others were grasping onto Mobad and were no longer tumbling freely. Glancing forward, he saw that the horses had suddenly stopped.

“Hang on! This will—” and his shield slammed into a body, with the sounds of broken bone and screaming horses, and the spray of warm blood over his shield. It took all of his strength not to crush Rosa between his barrier and himself, with all the weight of the others pressing down on him, as the pile finally stopped at the bottom of the slide.

Rosa was first to emerge from the pile and she simply said, “Oh dear.” The horses had all tumbled down, and found themselves wedged on a barrier of sharpened spikes. They pawed with their hooves, slowly as their lifeblood poured out on the muddy earth, their pained neighs fading fast. But while her heart broke to see the animals die this way, her attention was occupied with what lay just beyond.

A great door, that seemed to be made of woven wood fibers, about six paces wide. And twice the height of the warforged. Near the tops of the door, were brackets that held torches, next to a small landing with an opening just shorter than Rosa herself. The door itself seem to be set into dark granite, and not earth. In fact, as she turned around, the walls and ceiling were all rock, and only the steep slide was made of mud. As she turned, she then saw Doxx, who balancing on two feet slid down and stopped just short of the group’s pile as they slowly stood up to look around.

“Where are we?” Rosa asked herself aloud.

“Underground, by at least a hundred feet,” Bookshelf said calmly, pulling out their driftglobe and setting it alight.

Rosa turned with a grimace, “Underground. Never would have guessed.”

“The depth is more interesting,” The Blade said pulling out an arrow and nocking it. “This is a bit of construction, and it isn’t completely natural; it was carved somehow.”

“The little things did this?” Mobad said shaking his head, and helping Adrissa to stand, while he looked around for his great axe. “They really small.”

“That could mean there are a lot of them. Or there are other bigger ones.” Sage said, refastening his armblade onto his right hand.

“My dad said that the hills had a lot of caves,” Adrissa said in awe as she looked around. “ One of them was supposedly equipped as a shelter during the war, in case it came up here. I saw the entrance once, but I was told there was a door and it was locked. Never did find out where my dad hid that key, and I never entered it.”

“Fear like that is to keep you safe dear,” Doxx said sweetly smiling.

“I wasn’t afraid,” Adrissa said glaring at the old woman. “There isn’t much point in going someplace if you can’t open it. Besides,” and she turned away from Doxx, “I was busy hunting.” She then saw the dying horses on the ground and said sadly, “I guess they saved us.”

Rosa nodded and stepped up to the barrier that the horses had collided into. It appeared to be a series of larger thorns, that wasn’t just set in the ground, but had seemingly grown from it. Its wood was a dark, almost black color, and it twisted and coiled around like ivy around an invisible column on its side. It reminded her of tales that she had heard other druids tell, and she muttered aloud, “It’s like something out of the Gloaming…”

“What’s ‘the Gloaming’ ?” asked The Blade, unfamiliar with the term.

“It’s an area deep in the Eldeen Forest,” Rosa replied. “It’s a manifest zone with Mabar, and dark things grow and die there. One of the sects consider it sacred ground. But I’ve never been there. Just heard stories.”

“Well citizens,” The Blade said. “We are about to become stories, if those things open that door, and charge at us.”

“How do we open it?” Bookshelf asked looking it over.

“We could boost Rosa into those openings above, and she could—”

“I am not going to—” Rosa started.

“You’re right. We will send Ms. Tannoch instead—”

“You are not sending a little girl—” Doxx said angrily, wagging a finger at the masked elf.

“I can do it,” Adrissa said ignoring the old woman.

“You really should ask first Blade…sorry *The* Blade. That is awkward to say you realize?” Sage commented.

“It would be faster so the girl can find her dead parents,” Bookshelf said, earning him a cold glare from Adrissa.

As they were talking, Mobad moved over to the door and hand his hand over the thick weave. Frowning, he stuck part of his axe into the fibers, and then he pushed straight against the door, and to his surprise, it pushed open.

“Hey. It not barred.” He grunted, and the others went silent. After pushing a moment, he made an opening wide enough for all of them to pass, and he stepped forward. What he found was a tunnel. It seemed to be partially a natural cavern, but the floor and some of the walls showed signs of being worked. On the opposite wall, a hallway extended deeper and curved to the left, and on the walls, about halfling height, were lit torches. But the room itself was full of strange objects. Mobad took no interest in them and moved to the hallway and peered down it.

Bookshelf moved to one of the objects and tilted their head in curiosity. They were in the shape of a cylinder, with three or four bands of tough ridged wood or hardened fibers while about five or six poles were set lengthwise. Each of the poles was pierced with holes throughout the length and at different angles. Looking around they saw on the walls were pegs on which hung coils of rough twine. Most of the objects were as tall as person, but there were others smaller, and others that were much larger.

“These look familiar,” Bookshelf said simply.

“Looks like barrels missing their staves on the sides,” Doxx said scrunching up their face.

Bookshelf nodded a second and then straightened up. “No…not barrels. They remind me of gibbets “

“What's a gibbet?” Adrissa asked confused.

“A cage,” Rosa said quietly.

“For…what?” Adrissa pressed confused.

Rosa swallowed. “People.”



I remember falling, twisting and sliding with Wy and the rest of the Blademarks. I saw earth give way to rock as we tumbled down together. I finally rolled onto my shield, and laid on it, and used it to ride down the muddy slide. My other hand was busy wiping away the mud that kept spraying into my eyes as I tried to see ahead. The tunnel twisted and spun us downwards, until I finally saw it open up into a chamber ahead. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when I heard Gossamer in my head.

_--There’s a row of sharp stuff ahead of you Myr!_

“Spikes ahead, brace your—” I started to shout, when I slammed into the barricade, and I hit my head on some of the hard wood and everything faded away.

I could then feel the pounding in my head, and a sharp pain in my right side. My body felt broken and beaten as I took shallow, painful, breathes. I wanted to rub my head and make the pain settle down, when I realized I couldn’t move. I opened my eyes and I saw rock, and just on the periphery of my vision, I saw slats. I was on my back staring upwards. I tried to lift my head, but I found that it was bound to what felt like a pair of poles, with rope or something around my forehead and another piece around my throat. My arms and legs seemed to be similarly bound around the ankles wrists, elbows and knees, but since I couldn’t move my head I couldn’t see. I lay there, and decided I needed another perspective.

_Goss you there?

--Yes! I’m hiding right now.

Can you see me?

--Yes I can.

Ok look around me a bit._

I then in my mind pulled a small light strand from my eyes and cast it out to where Gossamer was, and I stared at my predicament.

I was naked lying down in a wooden cage of sorts, my limbs and head were bound fast against the ribs of wood that ran length wise. I could see I was bruised and I had several puncture wounds. Next to me I saw Wy, bound much the same in a different cage. But off the others I saw no sign. Nearby, out of reach I saw a pair of baskets, where Wy’s and my things seemed to be stashed. And of course, we weren’t alone.

In the room I saw about ten short humanoid looking things. I could smell a damp moldy smell coming from them, and they had a pallor between grey and blue. Half of them had spears and shields, while the others had bows. They said nothing, and their gray green eyes stared at myself and Wy, but none of them looked at Gossamer, who appeared to be hiding on a ramp that led into the room, while a passage led elsewhere, and a large door made of thick fibers was closed nearby. I also saw a number of the cages of different sizes scattered in the room.

I sighed, and continued to talk to Gossamer. _Where are the others?_

-_-Um…another one they put into a cage and carried him off. The other three…they didn’t make it_

“Wy? You awake?” I said quietly.

“Myr you’re here? Thank the sovereigns!” I heard the man said relieved. Our captors didn’t move or say anything in response to our talking. “Are you hurt?”

“I’ve felt better…but like you I can’t move. At least one other person was in a cage, and the rest…might not have made it. I’m…I’m sorry Wy.” I said choking back a tear.

“I know…I could barely see them as they carried off Tiggart in a cage. The rest…damn these things!

I wanted to console him better; with an embrace or something. But I could barely nod in agreement. “I’ll say a prayer for their souls, but I want to know what these things are, and what they want.”

“I have no---wait; some are coming.”

I cast my strand out again to Gossamer, and looked. I saw about another dozen enter the room, carrying long, thick poles. Six of them approached each of the cages, and threaded the rods through the cages framework, and then they lifted us. They slowly carried our cages towards the hallway.

_--I don’t think I can follow you safely.

Its ok…I’m going to hide you._ And I pulled the strand with Gossamer attached to it, until the familiar was then a ball of light next the bundle of strands within me.

“Where are they taken us?” I asked Wyn.

“I don’t know…but I expect questions; they could have killed us.”

“I guess, but I saw there were a number of other cages laying here. Seems they ask a lot of them.”

“You don’t sound confident about that Myr.”

“The last time I saw a cage like this…it wasn’t a great day for the person inside.”



“You aren’t serious,” Doxx said. “Why would these things need cages?”

“They use cages like this in Graywall,” Mobad snorted. “Usually, to let stupid folk die in.”

“We should move on before—” and the The Blade cut himself off and pointed towards the hallway. Down the dark passage was visible a flickering light, moving down the hall. The elf quickly moved to the edge of the room and peered around the corner down the passage. There he spotted a pair of the little creatures. One carried a torch, and the second carried a small bundle. As they made their way down the hall, the first one pulled a sputtering torch off the wall, and dropped it to the ground. They then took another from their partner, and stuck it into the sconce, and lit the new one. Then they moved on down to the next one in line.

The Blade pulled back the arrow nocked on the string and waited. The pair moved closer one torch at a time. He then heard a soft noise, and realized that the girl was next to him, with dagger and axe at the ready. He looked down and made a soft hiss, grabbing her attention, as he shook his head. He then turned to look at the pair down the hall and held his breath.

The pair had halted their journey between two scones, and were looking straight at The Blade. They stared at the elf with two unblinking luminous pools of blue. The Blade pulled on his bowstring and was ready to loose an arrow, when the pair moved again. They moved to the last sconce on the wall, replaced the torch, lit it and then turned away. They slowly moved back down the passage, unhurried and unconcerned.

"What in the?" Adrissa asked aloud in a whisper.

“What are you two doing?” Rosa hissed, flattening themselves against the wall.

“I was about to shoot the pair…but they saw me.” The Blade said confused.

“And you forgot how to shoot?” Doxx exclaimed.

“No! They…well…Didn’t care,” The Blade finished.

“This reminds me of something they said about Warforged Titans,” Sage said.

“These aren’t titans,” Bookshelf pointed out.

“No. But Titans only follow orders they are given.” Sage replied.

“So…they are stupid, and not the Blade?” Doxx said annoyed.

“I don’t follow that.” The Blade commented. “But we might be able to walk out of here then. Let’s move.”

The group then started down the newly lit hall. As the travelled, they noticed that the floor was littered with stubs of torches against the walls, and a fine layer of ash covered everything.

“Not much for house cleaning,” Rosa said.

“This isn’t exactly a house,” Bookshelf noted.

“Keep moving,” Doxx retorted. “I want to get out of here.”

“More light ahead…I think it opens into a room,” Adrissa said grimly.

The band moved forward, and entered a large chamber, which was half natural and half worked. Larger braziers lit the room from the corners, but even their light did little to brighten it up. As their eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, they saw more of the small humanoids. There were four of them, each with a large wooden pole standing by a pit. The four pits each held a concoction of fluid, with a reddish crusty substance. The four, used their poles and stirred the liquid methodically and patiently. Across the room was another wickerlike door that closed off the room.

The four didn’t look up from their work, and continued their care of the organic stew, when Adrissa said, “What are they? And what are they doing?”

“I…might know, but I’ll need a closer look to be sure dear,” Rosa said quietly and with a note of concern on her voice.

“What? An introduction? This isn’t a social gathering,” The Blade pointed out.

“A corpse might be a better choice here,” Rosa said patiently.

“A…oh. That does make more sense. I like your thinking,” The Blade said with a small smile.

“One small problem,” Sage said.

“What’s that?” replied the Blade.

“They stopped stirring,” the Warforged finished.

The creatures had indeed stopped, and they looked at the group with unblinking pools. They said nothing, but nor did they turn to run, or move at all. They stood quietly watching and waiting.

_Thump, thump, thump._ One of them started to lift and pound his pole deep into the pit in front of him slowly and rhythmically. Then the second start to do the same, followed by the other pair. Now all four pounded their poles together in unison in the same slow pace. Then the pools began to move and churn. Froth began to form as the contents of the pit splashed over the edge of the pit.

Suddenly a hand burst forth from the pit closest to them. The wet slick hand was the same color as the little creatures stirring them. The hand grasped the side of the pit, and a massive form started to lift itself from the liquid. It looks similar to the smaller ones stirring, but It was easily the size of an ogre. As it pulled itself upright, more hands burst forth from the other pits, and three more humanoids began to pull themselves free of the russet colored muck, and they all turned to look at the stalwart band.

“Correction. Four large problems,” Sage said grimly as he prepared for battle.

*Session notes:*

I seem to remember a Prince Bride comment here, about the Pits of Despair.  And a joke about how mounts never seem to survive many adventures.


----------



## Nthal

The Wailing Darkness - 3/16/2021​

I was stuck looking at the ceiling as my cage was paraded down through the depths. I could only see the stains of soot on the rock above and the occasional flicker of torchlight from the corners of my eyes. Not helping was the swaying movement of the cage as the creatures moved unevenly through the dimly lit caverns. The smell of wet mold still hung in the air, growing stronger for a while and then weaker as the passages twisted around.

Finally, I felt the creatures turn, and they shifted my cage so it stood upright, while I hung helplessly inside, my limbs still lashed to the wooden slats. The room held a dozen of the things and had a long table with broad stools next to it. On it I could see cutting instruments; scissors, hooked knives, and flensing tools. Nearby in open baskets, I could see our gear had been set down, far out of reach. Wy was set next to me, and next to him was Tiggard. The angle of my cage let me have a good look at the man, and I shivered in fear. He hung there twisting in his cage, his life’s blood spilling from a hole in his chest and spilling into a cache basin beneath his cage. I squirmed and struggled, trying to wrench my hands free from their bonds. But all I succeeded in doing was making the binding cut deeper into my skin.

As I struggled there, I saw on the floor, a pair of the creatures approach Wy and my cages. Standing below me, I saw that each of them carried a small sack, and they both motioned to another of their troop, who moved a pair of stools over to the cages. The one in front of me, stood up on the stool and then cocked its head. It then reached into the sack it carried and threw some type of powder into my face. The dust covered my nose and eyes, causing me to choke and my eyes water. Next to me the same thing happened to Wy.

I ‘stood’ there coughing and looked at my captors; half of them stared unblinkingly at me expectantly, while the rest stared at Wy. I coughed, and I felt my eyes watering, irritated by the dust. Next to me, I heard Wy grunt in pain, taking in air in sharp hisses.

Then, despite the tools of pain on the table, nothing happened. No questions, no demands, and no pain besides the burning in my throat and eyes. I don’t know how long we hung there; our breathing labored with the pain we felt. But after a while, the pair stood on the stools again, and I watched as one lean closer to my face. Angrily, I spit at the thing, striking it on the cheek. It stood there a moment, not even flinching when it suddenly reached towards my face with its sharp talons. My head, bound tight against the wood, couldn’t twist out of the way, and I blinked at their hands came close to touching my face. The creature backed up and made a gesture towards another of his fellows, and a pair ran out of the room.

“Myr…Myr…I can’t…I can’t s—“and my eyes turned to see that one of the creatures had stabbed Wy in the chest, in the same way Tiggard had been. I watched crying as I saw Wy’s life drain away, as his blood was exsanguinated from him and into the basin below. His last words fell into a hushed silence, as a I heard a quiet death rattle shook his form and tears of blood dripped from his eyes.

I renewed my struggle in my cage, knowing that my own death approached. My captors stood disinterested nearby, unconcerned with my pathetic attempts to escape. My wrists felt raw as I twisted them futilely as I tried to escape. I was making no progress and was tiring rapidly. It felt hopeless and was nearing despair when I heard something unexpected.

“This can’t be! You stupid vegepygmies must have done it wrong!” Into the room walked in a gnome woman, her hair pulled back into a pony tail,, dressed in a brown robe, and wearing an assortment of leather belts and straps. In her hands she carried a glass, framed in metal, with a cylinder of horn. She batted away the vegepygmy on the chair, and took its place. She placed a hand on my chest and leaned in close, her eyes locked with my own. As she leaned in, I saw that her brown eyes squinted looking me, but I saw that on the left side of her face was covered in an ugly tattoo, an oily black color, with streaks of purple and red streaked throughout.

“Interesting…they are right. And she…she is different. It hasn’t taken hold. Over a hundred tested and she is the first. This is bad…I must find a remedy.” She started to twist the glass around in her hands, adjusting something and ignoring me.

“Look, just let me go,” I said, looking for something to hook into, a sign of sympathy, a hope for compassion. But when she then spoke again, I found no comfort in her voice.

“Go?…no no no…you are too valuable to free just yet,” the glass glowed a bright purple now as she looked through it and examined my face. “Ah…you are like those shifters…no no more like that one Tiefling. Same kind of eyes, if a different in manifestation. Yet…yet…yours are stronger. Hardier. You are touched with stuff beyond the realm of Eberron. Syrianna? Davanni perhaps? Doesn’t matter. I can find where you are weak soon enough. I’m afraid you will have to live…for now.

“You dare taunt me with death; that’s isn’t your place” I said angrily.

“Hmm? Spoken like a true faithful adherent. Your faith must be strong then.” She said, cracking a smile of perfect gleaming white teeth. “But as someone who waits for the fullness of time…I think my faith is a bit stronger than yours if you seek to live.”

“Life? You don’t control that. And death? You have even less control of it,” I said, feeling like I was being tested..

The gnome smiled, “Well I guess we shall see whose faith is stronger.”



The Blade rolled to the right and loosed a pair of arrows at the closest monstrosity and both sank deep into the gray skin of the hulk. They stood almost as tall as the ogres, and they only made soft rasping sounds as they breathed. They did not bellow or scream. And nor did the one flinch at The Blade’s volley, as it shifted towards the elf, its gait more than enough to catch up with his pace. With a pair of slimy hands it swung, one of its fists swinging wildly, while the other connected with The Blade in the chest. The Blade wheezed, “Take care citizens, it certainly knows how to use its size to its advantage!”

Doxx then moved towards a second one pulling itself out of a pool. She then made a motion of pushing with both or her gnarled hands. There was a sound of the air rushing, and the hulk visibly quivered as its chest was blasted with an invisible blow. It staggered backwards and then fell backwards back into the pit it had just climbed out of. Doxx was about to move over to a third one, when she stopped and screeched, “What are you doing little girl?!?”

Adrissa’s teeth were clenched and her face was a tight knot of hate. She charged at the hulk who was focused on The Blade, screaming. Her speed was quick, and reaching her quarry she chopped ferociously with both her dagger and the hatchet, cutting deep gashes into the monstrosities’ leg. Fibers tore away, and a greenish red fluid sprayed over her as she continued to tear and rend.

“She doing FFINNNE!!” Mobad yelled, charging at the fourth hulk. But before he reached it, he swung and clove the nearby thumping Vegepygmie and its pole into two before swinging again and sinking his axe deep in the flank of the hulk. The hulk turned and swung striking the orc. But if Mobad was hurt, he gave no sign as he spat and prepared to strike again.

Doxx continued to shout, “She is going to get herself killed!”
“Perhaps after this fight we can have a proper dialog,” Sage Redoubt said, marching to stand beside Adrissa. As the juggernaut moved, the armblade again lit with green flames and he was rewarded with the smell of burning plant matter as the fire seared it. But with a quick motion of the armblade, the flames spread and engulfed the pygmy standing and still thumping its pole in the pit, causing it to fall over in a smoldering heap.

“Dying would solve many of her problems,” Bookshelf said calmly, as he flung a mote of fire into Mobad’s foe. “Might be for the best.”

“How can you say that?!” Rosa yelled at the warforged. She flicked a wrist and a vine of thorns extended and wrapped themselves around the hulk, tearing at it as she pulled the fibrous cord back. The hulk staggered and fell to the stone floor, its torso collapsing down into a heap.

The Blade pulled more arrows from his quiver and shot at Mobad’s opponent. Only one arrow found its mark as it disappeared deep within its torso. “That’s going to be a mess to get back,” muttered.

“You’re worried about an arrow? Not, “ Doxx said as the fourth hulk swung and missed the agile old woman, “—the fact that the girl is hacking at one,— ” And Doxx swung his staff with a resounding crack into its leg, “—Or that Bookcase thinks her dying is better?” and with a quick spin, used the other end of her staff to bludgeon it.

Mobad only grunted, as the hulk swung at the orc, and the orc seemingly was unaffected by the strikes. He simply smiled and swung twice, both times his axe found their mark and tore through it. The smell of burning wet plants pervaded the room now. Mobad was about the strike again when suddenly the fallen pygmy stood up again and leapt at the orc with a small wooden blade in hand. Mobad blinked in surprise and confusion at his once fallen foes’ attack, and he attempted to swat it aside..

Meanwhile the second hulk, had climbed back out of the slimy pit, and now charged at Doxx. But the old woman simply slapped away its attacks with her staff, much like a school teacher rapping the knuckles of a misbehaving student. But as she avoided her foes blows she saw that the crushed section of its chest was filling back out, as evidence of the damage began to fade. “This one is…healing I think?”

Sage quickly glanced around and quickly noted the common thread, “The ones that have been burned seem to stay weakened. More fire is in order.” And with Sage moved to strike at Doxx’s first hulk with his armblade, and letting the flames spread to his second opponent. The hulk twisted and swung, and a fibrous fist came down on the Juggernaut. Sage didn’t even flinch as it seemed to strike a barrier, leaving him unharmed.

“We probably should test that…” Bookshelf muttered as a ray of cold light left his hands and struck Mobads’ attacker. Frost and rime formed on it, and fibers flaked away, as slush like fluids spilled from the wound. “Frost is good too, And its BookSHELF not BookCASE.”

“Sirs, we should focus on the…DOXX!” Rosa yelled too late as the old woman was struck in the back, causing them to momentarily loose their footing. Rosa reached her hand and wisps of green light flew to the fallen woman, wrapping around them like vines. Doxx shook their head, and stood and again used her stick to shatter the wooden bones of the hulk.

“I agree. Several orders of fire are needed here.” The Blade said, running along the wall, while his arrows brought down the remaining Vegepygmies, and Mobad’s axe hew the legs out from under a hulk, causing it to collapse on the stone with a dull thump.

“Done,” and from Bookshelf, a small bead of light appeared, and he threw it into the midst of the melee. It erupted into blazingly hot flames, which seared the thin skins of the creatures. They didn’t yell or scream, they only made a hissing sound that grew quiet, as they all slumped to the ground unmoving. Almost everyone stopped their attacks and looked around at the piles of ash, and smoldering remains. And then almost everyone looked at themselves, to realize that there were unharmed by the blast itself.

All except the girl, whose hair smoked still from the wreath of flames, as she continued to hack at the fallen plant. Her face was streaked with tears and her pace at hacking and chopping had not even slowed. Suddenly she stopped and stood upright, her breathing still labored from the effort. She spat at the corpse and moved back towards Rosa. Her hands and arms trembled a bit, but as she walked, she gave Bookshelf a cold stare, but said nothing.

Mobad ran toward the door that led deeper into the complex and examined it. He quickly slid a beam a of wood in place, to hold it fast nodded. “We safe for now.”

“Safe? The cynical warforged would probably point out that safe means we’re dead—” Doxx started.

“—A reasonably accurate assessment—” Bookshelf started.

“—The little girl here was safer in her house, before the same warforged burned it down—”

“—It did kill most of the—” Bookshelf again tried to interject.

“—And for the rest of us, we are stuck here with how many more of these…these…things. At least Mobad thinks we’re safe. I feel better already.”

Mobad shook his head. “I could undo—”

“NO!” Several voices called out at once.

“Look Doxx, everything is relative in terms of safety my dear. Its safer in here than—” and she stopped and listened. In the distance beyond the door, came a wailing scream, that faded softly.”




My head hurt. I don’t know how long I have been hanging here and my eyes water all the time now. My limbs ache as I am surrounded, and poke and prodded by the little humanoids. They cut me for blood, and they throw more things in my eyes, and I cry. I don’t feel sorrow though. I am waiting, hoping, praying for something else.

A mistake.

Wy was cut out of his cage not long after they killed him. But they dutifully kept me alive. Food is stuffed into my jaw, and water is poured down my parched throat. It wasn’t much at all, scraps truth be told, I didn’t even know what it was I ate. Hanging from bonds, the fibers cut deeply into my arms and legs now, the dull pain a constant reminder of where I was. I must have been filthy at this point, and covered with cuts of blood, and soiled waste that ran down my legs. The only thing they cared about was I was alive; all for scrapes of blood and tears. And I think for the first time in a very long time, I wanted to sleep. To dream a familiar nightmare, rather than the waking one I found myself strapped into. So, I did the only things I could do; watch and wait.

I was never unattended. Six to twelve of the things seemed to be in the room constantly. They worked in pairs most frequently. One would cut and arm, the other would take my blood into a jar. Another pair would puff something on my face, and the other collected my tears. They didn’t however toy with me, or ask questions, or even say anything. They hissed occasionally, but that was all. But I knew there were more. At one point I heard a massive commotion, as many many countless feet scraped the floor, and the sounds of bone on wood rattled along. But after that, I could only hear and glimpse at the small group that watched me.

But I was patient; I was tired, but the strands didn’t leave me. Gossamer was safe and I could summon him at anytime. I had an idea if I could free an arm and even more if I could turn my head. You would have thought that getting an arm free would be the key, but my plan required me to see. And all I could see is that there was a wall four paces in front of me. And while I had something that could break me free, it was likely to kill me in my weakened state. But the last thing I needed was for someone to gag me or blindfold me. So no strands, no wings, nothing to change how they had secured me. I just needed time.

But time was running out, I was sure of it. And while I didn’t know exactly how long I was there, but I had a rough guess based on counting the only things I could for the passage of time. How often they fed me, and how often I soiled myself. It was something to keep my mind going, as I didn’t want to talk and annoy the things. I wasn’t sure it was possible but being gagged was a risk I couldn’t take.

So, it was my best guess that it was maybe ten days, before I saw the gnome again. I was tired and weakening. The food they gave me wasn’t enough to keep me alive really. Just alive for long enough. The gnome stared at me with a glass that made her eyes look huge. As I could not do anything but stare, I looked at the mark that surrounded half her face. Looking at it I saw it wasn’t a simple tattoo, or a birthmark. It was…alive I guess. The oily black boundaries, and the red vein like structures weren’t static; they twisted around and squirmed. And Looking into the red lines, I realized that it was looking into a peephole, as there was more lines and patterned chaos. It dawned on me that it was like how Taryn’s and Wy’s dragonmark looked, but unhealthy or corrupted.

I could feel the gnome’s breath on my cheek as she stared into my eyes. Her fingers pulled at my eyelids, keeping them open and unable to blink as she stared and spoke to me, “Well well…you are something. Strong; even as you waste away in your gibbet your body fights to live; to resist my work. But I see the truth of it now. It just took time to take hold in you. Probably because of your extraplanar origins. But it doesn’t matter; I won.”

“Are you sure?” I said, feeling desperate now that my usefulness was ending and I struggled weakly, mostly for show I supposed. “You’ll never see another set of eyes like mine again.”

The gnome smiled, “And that is certainly the truth. I have to say I admire the pluck in you as you face death. Any last requests?” she said mockingly.

I sighed, “I just…just…want to understand why.” I thought that if I could get her talking about her plan, herself, maybe I can get on her side or something to keep me around.

She smiled, “Its interesting how you believe I control death or life. I do nothing of the sort. But things are out of balance, and we need a cold winter so we can have a wonderful spring. Death and life are just a small part of it all.”

“Death is part of life, not an ending but a beginning,” I said trying to bait her to say more.

“You say that with such reverence. I suppose that given time you might understand us,”

“I’ve got a lot of time on my hands at the moment,” I said feeling a bit of hope that I found something to stay her hand.

The gnome stood back on her stool and nodded, “I suppose you do. Or did. Unfortunately, in the fullness of time; yours is up.”

She jumped down from the stool she was standing on and moved out of my vision to the left. “No no…wait!” I stammered when I felt it. I looked down with my eyes and I started to pant as the pain flooded through my chest. I could feel my heart beat, and I could feel the sharpen wood that it now surrounded and caressed with every pump. I saw the blood spurt in great gushes as the spear pushed through me. I could feel the warmth of it pour forth down my chest and legs to fill the basin below. I then began to wail with all the strength I had left. It was such a familiar feeling as the blood boiled up in my throat, cutting off my screams as I spat it out trying to gasp for more air, more time, more life.

The room swam and became indistinct. I hung there, and felt my breathing growing shallower and my heartbeat slowing, still pumping around the shaft of the spear. As the room darkened, I wondered if I could have done something different. As the last of my blood poured from my chest, I closed my eyes and whispered aloud with my last breath of life.

“My father, I…don’t…”

*Session notes*
So close yet...so far.  And Myrai seems to have met her end again.   Funny how it doesn't stick.   But on this leg the encounters were design explicitly on the number of recommended encounters per day.

And note;  we are all out of fireballs.


----------



## Wilpower784

Another day, another way to get Myrai captured by endless torturers. 

Also, that’s...not good. Is she really dead again?


----------



## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> Another day, another way to get Myrai captured by endless torturers.
> 
> Also, that’s...not good. Is she really dead again?




Its not like she's looking for it...but if she is consistent in one thing; extricating herself from problems like this.

And if weren't for conflicts like this, its hard to have adventures!


----------



## Nthal

​Hatchet Job Gone Wrong - 3/24/2021​(Special thanks to Ryan for his contribution on The Blades' interrogation)​

The wailing sound faded to nothing while the group looked at each other apprehensively.

“Someone else is alive down here?” Doxx stated in disbelief.

“The cages implied capturing of people,” Sage noted. “Prisoners are therefore possible.”

Rosa frowned, “That…that would be strange for vegepygmies”

“Vege whats?” Mobad asked confused.

“They…are known to me. They feed off the weak and dying,” Rosa said quietly.

“How do you know this?” Bookshelf asked slowly.

“There…there is a sect of druids in the Eldeen known as the Children of Winter,” Rosa began. “And one of their sacred places is an area of the forest called The Gloaming. In that place you can find…tribes of them. They use a type of mold to…give birth to new ones,” and she pointed at the pits with the russet-colored slime. “But I thought I heard they were hostile to…everyone. Even the Children of Winter.”

“So why do you think it is strange they have prisoners?” The Blade asked.

“To make a new one, you throw the dead bodies into the…mold; it’s how they grow the tribe. The bigger the body, the more pygmies it creates. That seems to be their cycle; kill and multiply. They don’t trade or socialize otherwise, so why keep prisoners?”

“Something has altered the cycle somehow,” Bookshelf observed. He opened up part of his abdomen and started to type notes on a machine. “This is interesting, do you know more?”

Rosa thought a moment, “The tribes grow to certain size, and stabilize or collapse,” Rosa said. “Most likely because they…run out of dead things and living things with any sense run.”

“Wait…Adrissa,” The Blade said with a tone of alarm. “You said they led people and animals to the barn. How many are we talking about?”

Adrissa looked around in surprise at being asked a question, but she quickly answered. “Well…I saw ranch hands and others from outlying homesteads. But I saw a lot of cattle.”

“Cattle…” The Blade said thinking before Sage continued the questioning.

“The cattle here…they are magebred right?” To which Adrissa nodded. “How large is a cow?”

Adrissa frowned, “About twice your height…real passive, easy to herd with dogs.”

Rosa’s eyes widened, “A single head would create a lot of them. How many came through here?”

Adrissa grew alarmed, “Well our ranch had two hundred heads, and about half were magebred. But…but…they led *other* ranches cattle here too!”

“Then…where are they?” Bookshelf asked. “If they slaughtered her fam…um… her herd, shouldn’t we have seen more?”

At the word slaughter Adrissa tensed up and looked at the slender warforged with hate.

Bookshelf looked at the girl coldly, “Don’t.”

“I agree there should be,” and Rosa stepped in between the pair. “Adrissa, if there are prisoners down here, what did your family look like?”

“I look like my mom…dad had grey hair and a beard, and a large tattoo across his back from his time in the war.”

“And who was the last ones you saw led to the barn?” Rosa pressed.

“Only that woman you asked about earlier and her Blademarks. And that was weeks ago.”

Rosa nodded, “We should finish our breather and start looking for them. They might be still alive,” and she glared looking at Bookshelf. “But we can’t afford to die down here; we need to get out and get to Denning and warn people.”

“Yes, and get the girl,” Doxx said pointing at Adrissa, “To family or someone to take care of her.”

“I can take care of myself,” Adrissa said her brow furrowed in anger as she looked at the old woman.

“She has the right to choose. And she chose to stand against the evil here. Good job by the way,” The Blade said, as he struggled to pat Adrissa on the shoulder as she squirmed away. He reached out and pulled on her shoulder to turn her around. “Listen, I’ll keep you safe. Just ignore him.”

“That…this... this is no way for a child to live!” Doxx said angrily at the elf.

“Don’t matter. She surviving. Better to help her do that, instead of being coward,” Mobad muttered.

“Or faster way to die and join her—” Bookshelf started before Rosa hissed at him to keep quiet.

“Let’s eat and move on before someone finds us,” Rosa said, still glaring at the warforged, who simply shrugged.

They sat and munched on the rations they brought, while the pair of warforged looked on. It was silent, with no sounds coming from beyond the barred doorway, and no repeats of the wail they heard. After they finished, Rosa checked everyone to make sure that there weren’t any injuries that needed treatment. After she was satisfied, she nodded at Mobad, who unbarred and pulled open the large wickerlike door.

Beyond was a three-pace wide passage lit by torches in sconces, that curled around to the left. But ahead they saw a four-way intersection. They moved cautiously through the tunnel, and Doxx moved ahead and peered around one corner and then the other before waving them forward. When the group reached him, he pointed towards the right hand opening and whispered, “Look.” They all turned and entered a chamber.

The chamber was shaped like a kidney bean, with only the single exit, and a smoldering camp fire and it reeked with the smell of wet mold. The room was in a disarray, with cloth and what looked to be random bits of wood and bone all across the floor. On the walls was what a appeared to be a woven lattice work of fibers, that suspended small cubbies. Each one was an armlength wide and inside were visible small nests of rags and straw. But what stood out was the number of cubbies.

“It’s like a beehive,” Rosa said looking at the structure.

“Several hundred could nest in here,” Sage noted, and Bookshelf nodded in agreement.

“In the other direction crosswise is a similar chamber in size and it is also empty,” Doxx said.

“This is bad,” Rosa said. “Most tribes are small, like twenty or thirty.”

“I think big ones slept here too,” Sage said pointing out large nest like shapes on the ground. “Maybe ten or fifteen, based on the size.”

“We should continue on,” Doxx said. “And see if there are more.”

Returning to the passage, they continued and came to another intersection and once again they saw another pair of chambers, but these were larger than the prior two and equally empty of any vegepygmies.

“How many?” Rosa asked.

“I estimate now over a thousand now, and that is just the little ones,” Sage Redoubt said grimly.

“And a hundred of the larger ones,” Bookshelf added.

“But not here,” Mobad grunted.

Rosa sighed, “Let’s continue.”

The passage was now slopping upwards as it twisted around, finally it started to straighten out, and ahead was another thatchlike door. Rosa closed her eyes and fur and claws sprouted all over as she once again turned into a black bear. Nodding at each other, they quietly approached the door. As they did so The Blade began thinking to himself:

_I was sure this was going to be a typical band of mercenaries. Just another group of shady individuals I'd have to tolerate in order to get a job done. But that farmhouse tonight changed everything. I saw what they were really made of. Faced with deadly enemies and an innocent in danger, they didn't run. Every one of them stayed and fought. Could it be that I've underestimated them? Could they have the potential to be heroes?

And under my expert tutelage, there's no telling how far they could go: how many innocents could be saved, how many families protected. A multi-city crime-fighting team isn't entirely out of the question. There would be trademark and franchise negotiations of course… monthly meetings… invention exchanges? Well, I suppose we should play that by ear…_

The Blade has been studying a flimsy thatch door a bit too carefully, for a bit too long. “It's not trapped,” he assured the party waiting behind him.

With a look that was equal parts confusion and exasperation, the old woman asked with strained patience “And what exactly would a trap on this thing be?”

Oblivious to the question, The Blade pulled the door just far enough to slip inside. A few seconds later, the door is pushed wide open behind him, revealing to the party a room full of disturbing equipment. Two Vegepygmies were working on a frame where they were stretching a piece of leather across it. The Blade approached them with odd confidence.

_All right, this is where I truly shine: interrogation. And now to squeeze every bit of vital information out of these hapless minions._

Facing the creature on the right, he began to display his masterful extraction technique. "Where are the rest of those bask—"

The creature suddenly burst into flames and dissolved into scattering ashes as a fiery blast hit it from over The Blade's shoulder. He sighed. The momentary expression of frustration on his face was immediately overwritten by a slight smirk.

_Ah of course: destroy the first creature to let the second one know we mean business. Perhaps more aggressive than I'm used to, but an understandable tactic._

He turned his menacing gaze to the other creature, who must have been sufficiently worried by now. "Now then, where are the—" he started again, when the orc and the old woman brushed each of his shoulders as they ran past him to kill the remaining creature.

The Blade's smirk faltered slightly, but then returned as he slowly shook his head.

_Ha! Overzealous. What a rookie mistake. These fledgling heroes have a lot to learn if they want to be revered champions in the endless battle against the forces of…_

Turning to face the scene behind him, his cheeks went pale and his eyes glazed over.

_…evil._

Lying on the floor, the dying girl's frozen form rested at the feet of a remorseless warforged. The desperate roar of a black bear filled the room as she leapt into the air. Two halfling feet landed next to the dying child, as Rosa attempted to keep her from the jaws of death.

_How could I have been so stupid? I had every reason to know, every chance to expect it. Unlike most villains I've met, this one plainly announced his intentions. Like a fool, I dismissed his threat as bluster and cluelessness. I told her I'd protect her from him. But I turned my back._

The world around The Blade came back into focus, as his attention settled on an arrow sticking out of the warforged's torso, and then on the bow in his own hand. Gathering his senses, he subtly scans the faces of everyone around him, and it became clear: they're not going to help kill him.

_These are mercenaries. I can't be sure they won't turn on me before I can destroy this monster. And if I fail to finish him off, she'll only be in more danger._

He lowered the bow. "That warforged is defective. Secure it. I don't care how.”

Doxx, and Mobad stepped in between Bookshelf and the fallen girl with Doxx already berating the slender warforged.

“Why did you do that?!?”

“She put a hatchet in my leg,” And Bookshelf pointed to their left knee at Adrissa’s axe sunk deeply into the wood between two metal plates.

“And _why_ did that happen?”

“I said out I found her father,” and he pointed back to the wooden frame. While the leather wasn’t fully stretched across it, one thing stood out clearly. The leather had a military campaign tattoo inscribed upon it.

“Human leather,” Mobad said grimly.

Rosa was on the floor comforting the unconscious girl, with the larger juggernaut standing at her side. Whether intended or not, his posture seems to be that of a protector. The Blade stepped to his side, the three of them now looking down over the girl.

"Sage. You're a mercenary, right?"

After a thoughtful pause, the warforged offered a tentative reply. "Sort of?"

"I'd like to hire you for a… side job. We can sort out payment later. But the job has to start now."

"What's the job?"

"Bodyguard. I need you to protect her." The Blade's eyes shift only briefly to the expressionless face of the child's assailant. "…from anything."

"Deal."

_No hesitation. No question about the payment? There might be more to this one after all. No. If I overestimate them again… the consequences could get much worse. They're mercenaries. They're just doing a job.

But still. In a situation this precarious, fighting in an unfamiliar land with pure evil traveling at my side… true allies would be too valuable to ignore. _

“I am sure she misunderstood my intent,” Bookshelf said as he wrenched the axe free from his leg and then started to work the arrow out of their chest.

“I doubt that,” Doxx said. “Stay away from her, and don’t talk to her.”

The Blade came up to the group around Bookshelf and simply glared at them. “Let’s look around, and we’ll ask her what happened when she wakes.”

The main room was rectangular in shape, with another thatch door opposite of the one they entered and on the long walls were four side chambers. In the main room, along with the tools, were bins on the sides. The four of them walked over and looked inside and saw they held various kinds of gear.

“This one has leather…belts, jerkins…even some armor.” Doxx said.

“This one has knives…swords…a mace…nothing quality,” Mobad remarked.

Bookshelf started to look into another one, when a glint caught their eye from a fourth bin. They walked over and stared for a long moment quietly into its contents.

“A Blademark baldric,” Doxx said. “They were here,”

Mobad looked at the third bin that Bookshelf passed by, “Bows and arrows here.”

“Parts,” Bookshelf said simply, and they reached in and pulled up a round metallic object and turned it in their hands. As the others turned to look it took a moment to realize that Bookshelf held a warforged head.

“How many?” Doxx asked with a tone of disgust.

“Five.” They said grimly looking between the bin, and the leatherworking station. “People for parts. All kinds.”

Sage and The Blade approached, both with grim looks.

“Will she—“Doxx started.

“—She’ll live.” Sage replied.

“You better hope she does,” Doxx said angrily glaring at Bookshelf.

“I’m supposed to just stand there and take an axe to the leg? It might have removed yours,” Bookshelf replied calmly.

“And I’m sure you needling her had nothing to do with it,” Doxx snapped.

“Enough! We have enough problems without creating one. We will deal with this later,” Sage said. “For now, we should watch the other door to make sure we aren’t disturbed.”

Mobad grunted, and walked to the far door, pushing his way past Bookshelf, nearly knocking him over. The rest then moved into one of the antechambers that flanked the room. Inside were two of the cages but set upright on their ends. A table nearby had sharp knives and tools, while on the ground two baskets sat half empty, each with an assortment of clothing and equipment. In the back corner, small cloth was spread out on the floor.

Doxx moved towards the cloth and realized that something was under it. Using their staff, they moved the cloth aside, and Doxx jumped back suddenly. There underneath was a pair of vegepygmies. The others whirled at the motion and were ready to attack when Bookshelf spoke.

“They’re dead.” They walked forward and drew a dagger and used it to move limbs and roll their heads side to side. “No wounds, no fire, no frost. Something else killed them.”

“And no one noticed?” Doxx exclaimed.

“Apparently they aren’t very bright.” Safe noted.

The Blade in the meantime looked over the cage when something drew his attention. High on it, stuck on fragment of wooden thatch was a strand of long golden hair.. Frowning he looked down and saw that the cage was set upon a basin. Sniffing the air, he was certain from the scent that it held blood. He then frowned and leaned closer and looked inside. The basin was filled to the brim with the all too familiar liquid. He was about the straighten up, when he thought he felt something on his cheek. He reached out his hand towards the basin and realized what it was.

“It’s warm. Someone was exsanguinated here very recently,” The Blade said, then noticing something else on the floor and moved to pick them up.

“If that was the case, who left this?” Sage had squatted down and pointed to a set of red smears on the stone floor. Doxx and The Blade moved over to look, and it was clear that the smears were a set of bloody footprints.

Doxx squinted at it a moment, “A woman’s footprint based on the size…or a male elf.”

“It must be Myrai’s. And I suspect she is a wizard of some kind.” The Blade said, holding out a bit of black fur, “A black cat—” and then he produced a black feather in the other hand, “—with wings.”

Doxx blinked in confusion, “I…thought the girl was telling a tale. But I suppose with a familiar of some kind anything is possible.”

“So, her familiar got her free?” Sage asked.

“Yes, she used magic then to kill the guards, and—” The Blade moved over to the bins in the room, “Got dressed…I don’t see anything in here that a woman could wear.”

Doxx looked closer at the ground near the entrance to the side chamber, “That seems to be the right of it. There is a boot print her against the wall. I bet she sneaked out. Perhaps she distracted the others and is ahead of us now.”

Bookshelf had been quiet, but now they looked at the basin of warm blood, “But this…this basin is full. The amount of blood here…a human shouldn’t be alive after shedding this much blood.”

“I agree,” The Blade said somberly. “But, the lack of a woman’s body, and two pygmies’ corpses tell a different tale.”

The four stepped back into the main room, and Rosa moved towards them with Adrissa rubbing her head. “She doesn’t remember what happened in the fight with vegepygmies here,” and she leveled a gaze at Bookshelf, “Nor how she got knocked out, but I told her it wasn’t important right now.”

The Blade looked at Sage Redoubt and the juggernaut nodded, “I will stay closer to her and keep her safe.”

“She’ll be safer in Denn—” Doxx began to start his tirade again.

“Nowhere is safe. No one is safe,” Adrissa said quietly, bringing Doxx up short. “Not my home. Not Denning. Not the ranchers.,” and she pointed to the leather frame with the tattooed skin stretched across it. “Not my father. And not me, so save your sermon Doxx. Just get me out of here.”

The Blade was about to respond, when he closed his mouth, and moved to the third bin, and found a shortbow and a quiver of arrows. He brought them over to the dead eyed girl and offered them out. “Perhaps not. But that doesn’t mean you have to accept it. It’s your life.”

Doxx sighed looking at the girl, and her innocence lost, “Well…at least we know Myrai was here, and is ahead of us. Might as well follow her.”

The rest nodded and moved towards the barred passage out. Mobad slid the bar back and pulled the wicker door a little, peeked through, looking for trouble, before he opened it and entered the passage way. As the group moved through the doorway, the girl stopped by the leatherworking station, with her father’s flayed skin on the frame. She reached over with a shaking hand and touched it gently before saying softly for the last time.

“Goodbye Daddy.”

*Session notes:*
So, The Blade's player kindly allowed me to adapt his original piece into the story, and thanks again Ryan.  However, there is a small thing that happened at this point.  After Adrissa was hit by the Ray of Frost, there was an interesting change.  That change was that my daughter started to play Adrissa as a character.  Her personality changed a bit from the frightened passive girl that originally appeared, to something quite different.  Originally it was just going to be temporary as well;  it was the first time she had ever played Dungeons and Dragons with her father (Myrai) and her brother (Sage Redoubt).  And instead, she became a permanent member of the group that plays today.

So what was a side character became something more important, and has hooked my daughter into the Pen and Paper world, and she has even dm'd a group of my friends recently for the first time.  So this story has a lot of personal memories for me, beyond just the game.


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## Wilpower784

Geez, framed skin? Talk about a hellish way to find your dead relative. The Blade is still great, definitely needed in the face of fleshy portraits, massive blood basins, and a couple too many vegepygmies for comfort.


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## Nthal

Its called "Recycling" in the grimmest possible way.  In talking with "The Blade" last night, he's amused as well.

So enjoy!


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

So after a lengthy hiatus I'm all caught up.

Must say I'm thoroughly enjoying the rather dark and grim tale you're currently unfolding. And the characterisation of the various party members (particularly Bookcase).

And congrats on getting your daughter hooked to D&D!!


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## Nthal

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> So after a lengthy hiatus I'm all caught up.
> 
> Must say I'm thoroughly enjoying the rather dark and grim tale you're currently unfolding. And the characterisation of the various party members (particularly Bookcase).
> 
> And congrats on getting your daughter hooked to D&D!!



Welcome back.  I was afraid I chased you off 

And Bookshelf is challenging to write; It was always the small things at the table with tone, less action.   All of them have their secrets and subtleties, and I am glad you have been enjoying it.


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## Nthal

Confrontation with a Lesser Winter - 4/12/2021​

The passage beyond, resembled the earlier one, if a bit wider. The floor here was stone, but with a fair spattering of damp mud in the center of the corridor. But beyond the sputtering torches on the walls, there was no sound, and no movement.

Mobad stood in the center, axe ready alongside Sage, with The Blade, and Adrissa close behind them with bows ready, and Bookshelf and Rosa behind them. Doxx however, stayed along the right side wall, watching the floor.

“Her trail is clear, and fresh. The prints have no water in the mud here. But no sign of the cat though.”

“It’s flying dear,” Rosa said patiently.

Doxx winced, “Of course it is.”

“Told you,” Adrissa said smartly.

The group continued forward, and found more branching intersections, to caverns on the sides. Each one was like the prior ones they had encountered. But they were each twice the size of the previous ones. And like before, each was as empty. Eventually, they saw ahead of them, torches flanking a door. They all pushed themselves against the wall and peered ahead.

“A door,” Mobad simply said. “Iron bound though.”

The Blade looked at the girl, “You said your family secured a cavern to hide because of the war right?”

Adrissa nodded, “Yes. But I never saw the inside of it.”

“We should be cautious,” Sage responded. “For as dim as these pygmies are, something else leading them is far more cunning.”

The group moved to the door, while The Blade examined it, and Doxx pressed her ear against the wood.

“I hear…talking, can’t make out what,” Doxx said, and she gripped her staff tightly.

“Well, I’m sure we have the element of surprise,” The Blade said confidently, and he pulled open the door.

The circular chamber was well lit with braziers on the floor and with oil lamps hanging from four pillars that reached the domed ceiling. The stone floor here was finished flagstone, and the walls here showed signs of being worked smooth, with some brick work in places. Along the edges were two stacks of crates, some marked with House Cannith’s sigil, and others blank. By each stood another set of the giant sized vege hulks they had fought earlier. On the far wall, were shelves, full of books and various objects, and another door was on the left, barred shut from this side.

But it was the thrumming of fingers on a tome that grabbed their attention. Near the center of the room, behind a large worktable and standing on a box, was a small figure in a brown robe. Her eyes bored into the band as they entered. Around her right eye an ugly black and red stain writhed on her skin; an Aberrant Dragonmark. Her face had already a deep frown, as she addressed the band;

“So…you are the ones who burned down the house.” She said coldly. “Pity, but it has outlived its usefulness I suppose.”

Adrissa hand tightened around her bow, as Rosa spoke, “Where is the woman?”

“Doesn’t matter she…wait…” and a warm smile spread across the gnomes face, “Rosa? Rosa d’Jorasco is that you? It has been a long time since you visited. I don’t suppose you have decided to rejoin us?”

Rosa looked around at the others in wide eyed surprise, her words stolen away by her shock. She finally took a breath and replied, “I…don’t…think so. I’ve seen enough to see that this—”

Rosa was cut off for a moment, as the ground heaved and shook. The quake caused rock and dust to fall from the roof of the cavern and was violent enough that even the hulks had to steady themselves using the nearby pillars. The gnome had put both of her hands down on her worktable, but she looked around with elation. After several moments, the rumbling and shaking subsided, but now a wave of nausea came over the group as they recovered their bearings.

“Of course not,” the gnome continued. “You never had the stomach to do what was necessary. And now…well it is far too late. The coming of Winter has truly begun! Morrigon has completed his labors, and his toil is bearing fruit. I suppose he might have wanted to have a word with you…but perhaps one bitter parting is enough for everyone.”

The Blade stepped forward and spoke in a strong commanding voice, “Now I suggest you give up quietly, and we ensure your safety when we take you—”

“—You are taking me nowhere elf.” The gnome sneered. “I am no cutpurse on the streets of the cities of waste and detritus. I am a herald of the change, and Morrigon seeks to change the world for the better. As for you, you are out of your element city boy, and out of your league. And while the woman you seek had a clever trick up her sleeve; it won’t save her, and nothing will save you. Dispose of them!”

“I think you should—WATCH OUT!” The Blade said as a large crate sailed overhead and slammed into the floor, among them all. The crate split open, releasing fractured glass, and a thick cloud of dust that covered everyone and everything nearby. The group’s eyes started to water and burn a bit, and they coughed a moment as one of the hulks strode forward.

“You stupid idiot! Not *THAT* one!” screamed the gnome, “Just go crush them!” and she waved her hand, and a green ball appeared in it and she tossed it at The Blade. It sailed across the room, and struck the ground where he once stood, splashing a caustic liquid at the elf and Rosa as well. Fortunately, Rosa had also avoided the liquid, as she scrambled backwards out of reach, growing hair, claws and teeth as she transformed into a bear once again.

Doxx then wasted no time and ran towards the hulk that threw the crate. But as she passed a pillar she was struck and pulled backwards by a thorny vine. There in the shadow another brown robed figure, stood ready with a quarter staff. But Doxx ignored the blow and continued to surge forward. Evading another blow from the figures’ quarter staff, she then assaulted the hulk with her staff and a pair of kicks, trying to slow it. She glanced behind herself to see what the others were doing and cursed quietly.

Adrissa had also bolted forward, loosing an arrow as she ran, the shot going wide. She wore her anger openly on her face as she quickly dropped the bow and drew her short sword. But she swung and missed the spry gnome, and she growled in frustration, staying close to her quarry.

Mobad was of the same mind as Doxx, and charged into the second hulk followed by Sage Redoubt. The orc’s great axe had no trouble finding his mark, as he cut pieces of hulk away, just in time for Sage to sear it with green flame from his armblade. “Fire and frost!” Sage yelled to remind the others.

“That’s nice. I don’t carry either,” and The Blade ran to the edge of the room and spied another robed figure behind a pillar. His bow shot arrow after arrow and the figure staggered, with both shafts sunk deep into their torso. “And Adrissa, you aren’t supposed to drop your bow!”

“Frost is a good idea,” and Bookshelf pointed, and the blue, white beam of frost struck Doxx’s attacking hulk easily, causing ice to form over its legs. The hulk however ignored the ice and was busy trying to club Doxx without success. Doxx danced and confounded the brute as it struck the ground several times in an attempt to smash the old woman.

The other hulk was slightly more successful in that it hit Mobad. But Mobad just roared and reveled in the pain. And he whirled around, his axe once again carving grey moldy skin away. Sage ignited his armblade again and the stench of seared rotten plant matter filled the room. The hulks’ strength was fading fast.

Rosa gritted her teeth and gave out a loud roar as a bear, and then charged at the gnome. She lumbered forward, and passed by Doxx, as she built momentum to attack, but the gnome was ready for her. She was unfazed by Adrissa’s fury, as her sword and axe strikes kept hitting nothing. But she turned to look at Rosa as she simply smiled and waved her hand.

From the top of the chamber, a beam of white light struck the ground, hitting both Rosa and Doxx. Rosa bellowed in pain and shook her massive head as white smoke wafted from her fur. But glancing sideways, she saw that Doxx had a different reaction to the light.

Doxx stood there and screamed as she was fully illuminated by the light. But as she did, her voice deepened. The old woman’s gnarled arms became smoother, as the liver spots faded away. Her scraggly hair fell away revealing a white mop of short hair. Finally, her face of lines and wrinkles, melted to smooth skin, with grey eyes, and an indistinct face.

“Knew it,” the gnome said with satisfaction. “If you are going to play as an old woman, don’t run around like a young fella, changeling! Not quite the stern stuff that Rosa is made of ACK!” And the gnome leaped backwards off her box as Adrissa screamed at her, swinging her sword and axe. Her face was a such a knot of rage and hate, that it made Mobad’s own a pale shadow to the girl’s emotions now on display. But despite her attempts to land a blow, her weapons seemed to be nudged away from connecting.

But Mobad’s opponent had neither the agility nor the guile to survive Mobad’s continued assault. The great axe cleaved more and more plant like material from the hulk, as The Blade continued to move and shoot around the room, laying low another figure behind the columns and turned to land the second shot deep into the trunk of the hulk. Sage quickly thrusted into it, and then ignited his sword, causing gouts of flame to flare from the open maw of the ‘giant pygmy.’

Doxx meanwhile rolled to the floor, as the Rosa bear changed targets to help Doxx, and sunk her teeth deep into the second hulk. Glaring at the gnome once, the revealed changeling gripped their staff and whirled it around themselves in a fury. In a flash, the staff was now illuminated with a burning light as fire-streaked trails from the ends. Finally, Doxx rotated the spinning staff in front of them, and a pair of fiery tendrils wrapped themselves around the hulk, setting it aflame. Amid the smoke the hulk stumbled around for a moment, before it finally collapsed on the floor of the cavern in a ashen heap.

The Blade stayed at the edge of the room and took aim at the gnome, who cackled in laughter as the shot seemed to be deflected away from the mark. Taking careful aim, he let fly another arrow, which was to be deflected from his target again. Frowning, he took even more careful aim again and releasted. As it flew towards the gnome, a dim green light surrounding the gnome flickered and died. The arrow struck the diminutive figure in the ribs. “I knew my aim wasn’t off. Hit her now!”

Adrissa yelled, her hair flowing behind her as she swung with her weapons. Both struck the gnome hard, and blood sprayed the girl. Her mouth was contorted into a vicious grin, as she watched the gnome stagger backwards.

“That’s good!” The Blade said getting another arrow ready. “Now make sure that—”

Mobad’s axe came down on the gnomes clavicle and severed her left arm away from the small body. A great gout of blood burst forth and drenched both the orc and the girl. He retracted his axe looking for another opponent and said, “—that’s how to do it little girl.”

“—we leave her alive to ask questions.” The Blade said defeatedly, and shook his head.

“Do you think a Zealot like her would talk to us?” Doxx said glaring at The Blade.

“She might have talked to Rosa,” Sage said looking at the bear.

The bears fur and claws began to shorten again and she spoke awkwardly, “Roawt—what do you mean?”

“She knew you.” Sage said simply.

“I…I…don’t know her. Nothing she said made any sense.”

“You told us about the Children of Winter befo—” Sage pressed.

“That I understood the faction,” Rosa pleaded. “That they’re mad…thinking that casting the world into Winter will make it a better place. But I still didn’t know her or how she thought she knew me. I only played along to try to understand what was going on here.”

“Well…it looks like she died with her secrets,” Doxx said bitterly.

“And you seem to have shed your obvious one,” Sage pointed out.

Bookshelf ignored them and cast a spell, causing his eyes to twinkle in a blue light, and started to look at the shelves at the back of the room. Some had books, and others had flasks and beakers. “Hm, a magic orb, a stick…no a wand, and a stack of arrows? These might be serviceable.” Continuing he looked at the spines of the books that were scattered on the shelves. “These are…recent books. Key battles in Cyre, several are on the soldier’s experiences. Then a bunch on diseases, and enchantment. An eclectic mix.”

Mobad rolled his eyes and sat down by a pillar and started to wipe the blood from its edge, “You did good little girl. You have my respect.”

Adrissa looked at the orc, “It isn’t enough. This is someone’s errand gnome.”

“It never is,” the orc nodded, earning a dark look from Doxx, who was ignoring Sage’s jab.

Resigned that Doxx would continue to ignore him, the juggernaut continued. “Well, let’s see if there is something else, we can learn here.” Sage said walking to the table where the gnome was working. There among the experiments was an open notebook, the ink still wet. Sage narrowed his eyes at it. “I can’t read this. I don’t even recognize the glyphs used.”

Bookshelf walked over and they too shook their head. “I don’t recognize it either. I can perhaps translate it with a spell.”

Rosa joined the pair of warforged, and climbed up on the stool and looked at the notebooks’ contents. Sighing she said, “Its in Druidic of course. Give me some time to read through it.”

The Blade wandered the room, when near the door when something shiny caught his eye. Bending down he picked up a small flat object; a copper coin. “This is out of place here. Wait…what is this?”

“What is it elf?” Doxx grumbled and walked over, slowly changing back into the same old woman he was before.

“This coin…I don’t recognize it. I’ve even seen coins in my…in a collection that were said to be Dhakhani. This doesn’t look like any of them at all.”

“You know you don’t need to hide changeling,” Mobad muttered.

“Keep your nose out of it and say nothing,” Doxx snapped and the non-plussed orc just shrugged. “Let me see that.” Doxx took the coin and frowned. “It’s not from the Five Nations, or Q’barra, and doesn’t look like an Aereni coin either.”

Bookshelf came over, his eyes still glowing. “Well…it’s a normal coin, but it had something cast on it. A bit of evocation with negative energy. I know I have seen this before. But…what is also strange is that there is a bit of…conjuration on it as well. Not cast on it, but in close proximity.”

The Blade looked down and the ground and then noticed the same boot prints they had been following earlier near the descending tunnel. He followed them back to door they entered from, and followed them to the other door, talking aloud. “She entered the room, stood there a moment, and then she ran to the door, only stopping to open it.”

“Not bad for someone that was captured and bled dry,” Doxx remarked.

“I concur, they underestimated her,” Sage said.

Thinking a moment, Bookshelf spoke again, “She clearly wasn’t dead, and I think I know what she did.”

“I can stop you there citizen,” The Blade stated confidently. “This Myrai person escaped from the cage below by charming the vegethings, and then using her persuasive skills to convince them to turn against the gnome, allowing her to dash outside to safety.”

Bookshelf blinked at the explanation and calmly said “I suspect something very different…”

*Session Notes:*
Moonbeam is a great spell to create havoc with.  Adrissa at this point, really, really, liked hitting things, and wasn't really keen on ranged combat, despite being offered weapons for it.  But she liked to be in the thick of things.  Finally, Detect Magic in this game was evolving to be used forensically, like an inquisitives tool kit.   So seeing past effects was a part of the how the world worked.


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## Wilpower784

The forensic vibe is really cool. I like to see that kind of creative problem-solving. Although, that’s probably nothing compared to whatever magic trick Myrai pulled.


----------



## Nthal

The Thorns of Winter - 4/21/2021​

“My father, I…don’t…”

I felt my heart beat ebb as the spear was pulled out of my chest. All the air within me passed my lips uttering a last plea. My vision grew blurry, as I watched the vegepygmies wander out of the room leaving me to die in the cage. My breathing had stopped, and I felt my heart slow and then stop.

I waited.

And waited.

Nothing was happening.

I was confused. I remembered the last time I died, that I awoke on the ashen ground of the Fugue and was meet by a petitioner named Alionus. But I didn’t remember waiting like…this. I thought a moment and tried to move. Unsurprising I found that my soul was unmoored from my body, and now I was adrift beside it hovering.

No…drifting. I was moving, not of my accord but I could feel myself being pulled somewhere. As I looked around, I saw that only two of the vegepygmies remained in the room, the others had moved on other things. The gnome too was gone, seemingly with more important things to do. Finally, I looked at myself hanging in the cage.

I knew I was in bad shape, but I didn’t realize how bad. My body clearly had lost weight, and color. My golden hair was matted and hung limply against my skin, covered in dust and filth. And my eyes…my eyes were closed, but tears of blood had dripped out of the corners and streaked down my cheeks. Offset in my chest, was a hole, where even now, blood dripped, cascading down my stomach and legs to collect in the basin below.

I had seen many corpses; some of which I created myself. But it was uncomfortable looking at my own, hanging there helpless. And this made me angry. I guess I could empathize with ghosts and spirits who felt like their work wasn’t done, and why they clung to the world of the living. Did that mean I was one?

No…I was being drawn away, but I hadn’t left yet. Watching around me, it seemed that time had slowed as my captors continued with their duties, but at a snails crawl. Ironically, I realized this was that moment I was waiting for; few guards and the ones here were not paying attention. Only problem was I wasn’t alive to take advantage of it.

“Sodding Baator,” I muttered to myself under my…breath? Well, I was fairly sure no one could hear me. But after I cursed, I realized I could feel something. Not air, not warmth or cold. Not pain. But something more familiar. I thought a moment and flexed and I realized what I felt were the Strands. Looking at myself I could just on the edge of vision see that they connected my soul to my body, and as I concentrated, I could see the intricate weaving of light and dark strands, and as I watched I could see they were fraying and unravelling.

That’s why I was still here; I wasn’t dead yet. I was close though. Given time my Strand would unravel and finally would cast my soul loose. And while time had slowed to a crawl, it was still finite. I focused a moment and realized that I could still pull on the Strands themselves, but I wasn’t sure what I could do with that knowledge. But it didn’t long to for me to realize that unlike the last time, I didn’t want to pass beyond.

I wanted to live.

Time was against me then, as I started to pull on the energy within the Strands. I left the dark ones alone and focused on finding every one of light. I then in desperation threw them around my body, weaving a lattice and then I pulled on the slack. It was hard…my body was being pulled away. The Fugue was calling me…or was I bound for Dolorrh? It didn’t matter; I wasn’t going to go. Not this time.

I focused, and strained. I felt the strands tighten, and I could see the dark ones unravelling faster and faster. As I puled my soul closer, I cast more light out from the slack in the Strand, weaving more and more loops around both my soul and my body. As I moved closer it was becoming easier and easier. Finally, my soul and body were almost touching and with one final pull I whispered ‘aloud;’

“My father, I am…not going to die.”

My eyes opened wide, and I struggled not to scream as I could once again feel the pain in my chest. I forced myself to breathe slowly and quietly and not gulp for air. I then and looked around with my eyes. Just as I had saw before, the pair of pygmies were busy at the table and noticed nothing. As I took each breath, I realized that the pain in my chest was subsiding. I could feel and hear my heart beat stronger and I had the sensation of blood running through my head once again. I hung there quietly wondering what to do next, when it happened.

The pair of vegepygmies left the room, unaware of my sudden return to the living. I noticed that on the table, they had left behind a number of tools and one item caught my eye; a thin blade made of bone I thought. It resembled a skinning knife, and it was exactly what I needed.

Smiling, I focused a moment and beckoned my familiar from his hiding spot, and with a quiet rush, Gossamer appeared on the ground and he stretched his wings.

_--Well…that was strange. I thought I was going to unbind, and yet here you…wow. You look like crap.

I feel about the same. We don’t have time. There is a knife on the worktable over there. Fly over, grab it and put it in my hand.

--We expecting company?

They stepped out for a…just get it!_

Gossamer didn’t argue, and after looking around, he ran across the floor and leapt onto the workbench. He grabbed the blade by the hand with this mouth and then quickly flew over to my cage and carefully put the handle into my hand.

_Stay quiet, watch the entryway.

--Sure thing._

My forearms were bound at the wrist against the wood, and were elevated above my head. With my hand, I carefully manipulated so I could slide the blade between my skin, and the fibers that bound my wrists to the wooden lattice of the cage. Then once in place I straightened my wrist, causing the knife’s edge to cut against the fiber. I slowly flexed, moving the knife in a sawing motion. Quickly I could feel the fibers release and pull away, and my right forearm was free.

_Goss; I need you to help me to trade the knife to the other hand.

--Yeah yeah. There are a couple outside by the way working on some frames._

Gossamer flew up and grabbed the knife and deposited it in my left hand and he returned to the ground to watch for pygmies to return. I clumsily repeated the maneuver with my weaker hand, and while it took a little longer, I was able to free my left forearm. With it free, I could now bend it over and inserted the blade between my right elbow’s binding and I quickly started to saw it.

_--Myr, the pair is coming back_. And he scampered and hid behind my cage as I desperately worked to finish and release my right arm. Just as they were about to walk into the room, I felt the knife had cut through the fibers, and I quickly moved my hand back above my head and held my breath.

A pair of the Vegepygmies came in, the same ones or different I had no idea, but they returned to the bench and started to clear tools off the surface. I could see them clearly, and I smiled. My right arm moved and gestured, throwing a dark strand around the pair, as I muttered under my breath. Ghostly skeletal hands then reached up and grabbed them by the through. I could see the vegepygmies reach up for their necks and then they stopped and fell lifelessly onto the ground.

_--That was lucky you know.

I’ll take what I can. Go watch for others.

--How are you going to reach the rest of you?

With an arm free, I’ll create a new hand._

I then pulled on a light and dark strand, and with a quick wave I created a ghostly hand in the air. It moved and took the blade from my left hand and I directed it, bond my bond to set me free, starting with my head so I could look around, my torso, waist and then my legs and feet. I wasn’t sure how long it took, but once I severed the bonds holding my legs, I practically fell out of the cage. I staggered forward and leaving wet bloody footprints on the stone. My limbs were sore from supporting my bodies weight on the bonds and the fibers left red inflamed marks where they cut into my skin. Breathing easier I finally summoned the courage to look at my chest.

Looking down, between my breasts was just unmarred flesh. I felt with my hand, pressing to find where the hole was. There were clear blood stains from where it poured from my heart, out of the hole, but the wound was closed without any sign of a scar or other mark.

“Thank Kelemvor for this miracle,” I whispered, and I moved to the workbench and the baskets nearby. The first thing I did was drag the small bodies over to the far corner of the room and along side the workbench. Looking into the baskets of gear, I found what looked be some sort of canvas or sail cloth, and I quickly draped it over the dead bodies, all while muttering, “I have no idea what passes for death rites for you, but I’m sure _my_ god will forgive me for skipping them with you, berks.” I then quietly dug in to the baskets and found then one that had my gear. I quickly rummaged, around looking for my belts.

_--Two are out there in the room…still ignoring us. Not sure how long that will be.

Just keep me informed, as I get dressed.

--you going to bathe while you are at it; you smell like you crapped and pissed your—

Please don’t remind me. I’ll cover the smell, can’t fully clear right now. Need to get my armor and stuff.

--By yourself?

Nope._

I found my waist belt and pulled it out. On one side hung a long thin sheath, next to my greensteel stiletto. From it, I pulled out a silver shaft of metal, and I quickly waved a pattern in the air with it. I could feel it pull on Strands around me, and I could feel something manifest, a helper.

“Help me dress and put on my armor,” I said. I couldn’t see it, but I heard some digging and the shapeless form pulled out my leather breeches out of the basket. While it did that I did take the time to use a light strand to scrub away the wet blood on the feet and lower legs. The breeches floated over to me and I dutifully stepped into them and pulled them up over my hips. The helper started to lace up the calves as I then put on the belt around me. And so, it went on with boots, blouse, armor, sword belt and the rest of my gear, easily cutting the time by half. I sighed as I realized that all my gear hung on me looser than I remembered, and my stomach’s growling reminded me on why. But once dressed I did use some strands to cut down my odor. Finally, I placed a hand on my returned holy symbol and pulled from the brightest strands to rejuvenate myself and my strength, if not quell my hunger.

_--You look better…except for the blood around your eyes.

What?

--You are still crying blood._

I put a hand to my eye, and I pulled it away. As Gossamer said, my fingers were covered in blood and I was now aware that my eyes burned. Thinking back, I realized that the gnome was interested in me becoming blind and her experiments seemed to focus on the fact I could still see, even after Wyn was blinded. I flexed a moment and called from that place deep inside and focused on restoring my vision. I felt the rush up and down my back, as my wings appeared momentarily as I released the power within me. Quickly the pain dissipated, and I focused again on leaving this prison.

Now dressed, I moved quietly up to Gossamer on the floor and looked out in the main room, where there were several exits to side rooms. There were two vegepygmies working on a piece of leather on a frame. But near them, on end of the room stood two massive vegepygmies. Well calling them pygmies was absurd as I think I would have come up to mid chest if I stood close to them.

_--You might have a problem killing all four.

You’re right. But I have an idea._

I whispered under my breath to my helper. “Go to one of the side room across from us and knock things over and create noise.”

_--Is that going to work?

I could send you to do it.

--I’m totally sure that will work._

I waited and watched. It wasn’t long before I heard objects clatter and fall to the stone. Of course, the four vege things didn’t react at all, but as time passed, the noise got louder and louder, until finally I heard glass breaking, followed by metal banging on metal. So, while the creatures were basically unaware, they weren’t completely stupid, and all four of them moved towards the sound. I waited till they passed by, and snuck quietly along the wall, reaching the formerly guarded door, with Gossamer trotting on the ground behind me. I pulled the wicker door open quietly and saw an empty passage beyond. I then darted through, with Gossamer in tow. Then closing it, I moved quietly up the tunnel.

_--What about the…wait the noise stopped.

The helper can’t exist without me being close to it. So now there is nothing to find.

--And how do you know this is the right way?

I’m guessing, but they were guarding it for a reason, and I thought we came up from the other direction in the cages. But the passage is leading up, so this is a good a guess as any.

--Luck is with you, I guess.

I wish I had Iesa’s luck. I’ll just have to settle for my wits.

--Don’t trade them; his wits were never that good. You still smell by the way.

Critic._

The passage was partially worked, with torches in sconces along the sides. I snuck along the side of the wall, with Gossamer and I both listening carefully. My heart was the loudest thing I heard, and I noticed to my chagrin that the pain and itching to my eyes had returned, as did the bloody tearing. But having no solution to that, I pressed on. We passed by several intersections that led into strange chambers with cubbies set on the walls. Far too many to count, and if full would have been more than enough to overwhelm Denning. But the passage and the rooms were empty and finally I arrived at a normal, iron bound wooden door.

Sighing, I decided to use my wand again and summon another helper, unsure on what to expect in the next chamber. I then grasped the handle and attempted to open the door quietly. But luck had seen fit to abandon me, as the door creaked open causing me to grit my teeth. But seeing that nothing more could be done, I stepped inside.

The room was circular in shape, with four pillars stretching from floor to ceiling. Next to each pillar was a lit brazier, illuminating the room in a warm orange glow.  Crates and boxes were scattered around, and shelves and beds lined the back wall from where I stood, and another bigger door was on the right side of the room. In the middle of it, I saw the gnome on a box, accompanied by several other human sized figures. Any chance of being unnoticed was quickly dismissed by the gnome addressing me.

“Well. I seem to remember having you hung out to dry as it were. How interesting,” the gnome said casually, as her companions turned to face me.

“Sorry, but while I did say that Death is part of life, not an ending but a beginning, I should have mentioned that my god is the one who judges whose time has come. Not you.” I started to edge slowly to the door on the right, trying not to draw alarm. “And as his servant he decided that it isn’t time for me.”

“A servant of the Keeper,” the gnome spat. “Stealing souls isn’t death my girl. Your ignorance is astounding.”

“The Keeper? That’s not who I serve,” I said still inching towards the door. “My lord has no need to steal things that come naturally. And he only holds the faithless or the false within his realm; a just punishment for non-believers.”

The gnome cocked her head in thought, “This is something new. I insist you stay, and stop moving to the door. I’m sure we’ll have more to talk about as your eyes rot away one and for all.”

I slipped a hand into my pouch and pulled out a greenie casually, along with a small bit of bat fur, and smudge of coal. And I walked towards the gnome. “Well, that’s the thing. Just because you have eyes…” And I mentally wove dark strands into a web around me. “…It doesn’t mean you can see.” and I uttered a simple word of binding.

For me, the room was alive as if the sun shown down in this cave. But for them, the gnome and her companions looked around in confusion. I quickly put the coin into the ’hand’ of my helper and said under my breath, “Walk around in a circle” and dashed to the door that I hoped led out.

“Well played girl,”: I heard the gnome behind me say “But darkness always fades away; but not for you. Its all you are going to know now. So, enjoy your brief respite.” And as I pulled open the door, and saw the tunnel leading up to natural light ahead, she began to cackle maniacally. I closed the door and ran up the passage, with Gossamer still close behind me. I kept the strand of darkness going, hoping to delay pursuers.

_--What is she talking about ‘brief respite.’

I’m running out of time.

--What?

I’m going blind._





Bookshelf explained his theory to the others, explaining the incantations used and how that aligned with the footprints seen, the excessive amount of blood spilled, and the comments the mad gnome had made to quiet nods. After the warforged finished, they all were quiet, when suddenly The Blade burst out, “That doesn’t make any sense. My theory is far more logical.”

“It isn’t supported by the magical—” Bookshelf started.

“A spell of darkness? Unseen helpers? Willing themselves alive? That’s all nonsense.” The Blade confidently.

“Well…Bookshelf is right about one thing,” Rosa said her voice quavering.

“About what?” Mobad asked, bored with the posturing and theorizing.

“This gnome,” Rosa started. “Gwen Squirlnet according to this...that’s what she was doing. She was trying to make Myrai blind.”

“Why her?” Doxx asked.

“It wasn’t about her,” Rosa explained. “She was resistant to this…magical infection she created. So, she kept Myrai around long enough to make it stronger.”

“So?” Mobad asked, unclear on the point.

“Gwen was going to use this to…infect the town of Denning. Everyone there is going blind in a matter of days. Even the warforged.”

“How?” Sage asked confused. “We aren’t affected by diseases.”

“This isn’t a normal disease…its more like a curse. Gwen found it in the Mournland and she’s…refined it.” Rosa said sadly.

“Let me guess. There’s no cure,” Doxx said rolling their eyes.

“No…there is…or was one.”

“Was?” Sage asked.

“That crate that was thrown at us…that was the antidote.” Rosa said and then everyone looked at each other in silent horror.

“Can we make more?” The Blade asked.

“I need to read more here, but we should see if there is anything left and keep it. If we get back to Denning, I can use the Jorasco aid station to see if we can make more.” Rosa replied.

Adrissa had moved over to where the crate had landed in the midst of them all, and started to sort through the wreckage. “There are …two vials intact. Everything else is smashed,” the girl said.

“Let’s grab them and get out of here,” Doxx said. “The sooner we get back to Denning and interrogate Melisandre on this the better.”

“Melisandre?” Sage asked confused.

“I am certain she knew more that she told us. And if she had told us up front, we might have been able to do…something.” Doxx said seething.

“Well citizens, there’s only one door. We should use it and head back to town.”

“At least we can agree on that,” Bookshelf said.

Mobad opened the large door, that revealed a large natural passage, leading upwards to a foggy light. With weapons still drawn, they ascended the passage and soon were blinking in a hazy dawn. light of the outdoors. The clouds were now roiling and churning visibly above them, with the echo of thunder through the area. They had exited from a wedge of rock on a hillside, with trees flanking them to the east heading towards the Ironroot mountains and to the west the river valley. But as they exited the cave, it was clear that all around them, the grass and other foliage was crushed flat into the earth, by many set of feet.

“They were here. All of them.” Adrissa said quietly. “And now they are headed to Denning.”

“I don’t think that is the only problem.” Bookshelf said pointing to the north, and then sweeping his hand around to the west.

“By the Sovereigns what is…what is that?”

In the distance where Bookshelf had pointed, was what looked to be a distant wall, reaching from the ground and deep into the skies. But even from the distance away it was, the wall didn’t appear to be a solid contruction of stone or earth. Rather it resembled a distant hedge, sans the leaves. It twisted and trembled, as if alive. It was massive, stretching across the horizon, and it cut a path along the hills and the river valley, sweeping southwards on the western side of the valley. As they stared they saw new ‘growth’ spurt from the earth, and with in moments, reached the heavens. As they watched they felt the earth tremble, and they watched another section grow and expand.

“It’s…it’s alive.” Adrissa said in awe.

“But what is it exactly?” Doxx asked.

“Its…part of a circle. A circle of thorns,” Rosa said. “And we’re in the middle of it.”

*Session notes:*
So Richards, apologies in the LONG delay on the meaning of the title of this series.  I blame COVID and other writing projects to get to the meaning here.  

Also at this point, Doxx (or his player) was starting to get obsessed about interrogating Melisandre.  Poor woman.  But this is indeed a bit of a curveball compared to the promise of a gold mine.

For sci-fi aficionados there is enough clues here to see what book/film that this is an homage to.   As a hint, the book was published in 1951, and the movie released in in 1962.  Two different TV series were produced as well in 1981 and in 2009  by the BBC.  And I admit when I first saw it as kid on TV, at the time I found it horrifying.


----------



## Wilpower784

Talk about an update. Ended up answering a lot of questions I had. Looking forward to the next part


----------



## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> Talk about an update. Ended up answering a lot of questions I had. Looking forward to the next part



Like "Is she dead?"

Its can be hard to kill an Undying warlock that doesn't want to die.  But the story would be different, if other subclasses were available at the time.


----------



## Richards

Nthal said:


> For sci-fi aficionados there is enough clues here to see what book/film that this is an homage to.   As a hint, the book was published in 1951, and the movie released in in 1962.  Two different TV series were produced as well in 1981 and in 2009  by the BBC.  And I admit when I first saw it as kid on TV, at the time I found it horrifying.



Well then, I'm going to have to go with 



Spoiler



John Wyndham's "The Day of the Triffids."


  I read the book and saw the original movie; I was unaware of the TV shows.

Johnathan


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Richards said:


> Well then, I'm going to have to go with
> 
> 
> 
> Spoiler
> 
> 
> 
> John Wyndham's "The Day of the Triffids."
> 
> 
> I read the book and saw the original movie; I was unaware of the TV shows.
> 
> Johnathan




Pretty sure I watched the 1981 version, but I think I skipped the more recent one.

Very clever adaptation of some of the central elements of the story, Nthal. I'm looking forward to seeing how your misfit band of heroes deal with the threat.


----------



## Nthal

Muddy Respite - 5/2/2021​(Special thanks to Ryan 'The Blade' for introspective writing)​
A peal of thunder sounded across the sky as the clouds above flashed with light. As the group stared at the distant wavering wall, a warm damp gust of wind blew through them as the rain began to fall.

“We need to get to Denning,” Sage said simply. “If there is a horde coming for them—

“—And what exactly are we going to do against an army of vege-thingies?” Doxx retorted. “We aren’t one. How are we going to stop them?”

“No, we cannot,” Sage agreed. “But we can help them defend the town. We have information about them; use fire for example. That has value on a battlefield, especially on this eye rot disease they have.”

“It will be worse for the townspeople,” Rosa said sadly. “If we don’t get there in time the cure is worthless. We *have* to try.”

“Why even bother? Why don’t we just find our way back to Cattbron?” Bookshelf asked.

“That’s the problem,” Doxx said as they glared at the warforged, “Without a raft or boat, the river is too fast for horses to swim across to get there, let alone people.”

“And how do you know that?” The Blade asked with a note of doubt in his voice.

Doxx shrugged, “During the war I had some…training about the local area. Never came here though, just notes really. But the town of Denning defended a bridge crossing it. The only other crossing is Salenhold higher in the hills.”

“So, we could go there?” Bookshelf asked.

“Possibly, but we have to go all the way to the river anyway to get there. Might as well just go to Denning.”

“Sorry…I have a question,” Adressa suddenly asked, and the group turned to look at her. “So where did this person you were talking about go?”

They looked around for a moment in confusion before The Blade spoke up, “I don’t see her, although this rain is going to make finding her a problem,” and he bent down as did the quiet Mobad looking at the earth. And it was the orc that found the tracks first. “The vegetables don’t wear boots, and don’t sink deep. She headed down to the river valley.” Mobad grunted.

“Why that way?” Bookshelf wondered.

“That’s easy citizen,” The Blade beamed. “She doesn’t want to use the open road.”

“Why not?” asked Rosa.

“Because that army is using it. Faster to move large groups,” The Blade continued. “Walking into the back of a column is probably not a good idea.”

“He’s right, I hate to admit,” Doxx responded.

“Well then citizens, let’s at least find Myrai. We cannot leave her out here alone.” The Blade said with bravado.

The continued following her trail, and Mobad was relentless in his search. He didn’t speak more than grunts as he followed a trail that was becoming less and less obvious as the rain fell around them. By midday, they finally descended into the canopy of trees that grew within the valley. But as they got close to a large oak, Mobad stopped suddenly with a look of confusion.

“This…strange,” the orc muttered. “The tracks…stop.”

“Well it is raining,” Rosa said sweetly as she leaned against the oak, sheltering herself against the rain.

“No. Not lost. Stop.” Mobad continued. “She not walking straight, but boots stop here.” And he stood, under the tree and pointed between his own two feet.

The Blade bent over to look and traced the prints back to the base of the tree. “She sat here…for a while., unmoving.”

“She took a breather…much like us,” Doxx slipping his voice back into the tone that matched the woman’s visage. “That’s not a startling revelation.”

Mobad frowned, and then knelt by the prints. He then looked back and forth at the ground, before he straightened up suddenly. He then started to circle an area about two paces wide shaking his head.

“This not make sense,” he said. “She mounted a horse.”

“How do you know that?” Adrissa asked, bending down to look at the boot prints herself.

“Right print deeper, because all her weight supported briefly on foot,” Mobad said pointing out the differences to the girl. “She mounted on a stirrup with left and then…gone. Not make sense.”

“Well, a horse out here is a lucky find,” Bookshelf said. “Well…unless…” the warforged then took out a slender wand, one that was found on one of the shelves in the cave they had departed and waved it. The warforged eyes started to glow blue as Mobad continued.

“Horse stood here, but didn’t walk to here,” and the orc pointed to his right as Adrissa studied the ground where he pointed, and then followed where he pointed next. “Distance between hoof tracks are far apart,” and he pointed deeper into the valley. “It then ran. But distances between track means it galloped. But no horse can move…that fast.”

“I see it!“ Adrissa said excitedly following Mobad’s finger. “I know the magebred cattle have long gaits based on their size. But this is…a *really* long gait.” Mobad nodded in agreement still puzzled.

“This Myrai is very skilled,” ookshelf said looking at the ground. “And her belief is strong.”

“What?” The Blade asked. “You aren’t saying she summoned a horse here are you?”

“Not a conjuration. An illusion of one,” Bookshelf replied. “She made an illusory one and believed in it enough to ride it.”

“Told you. That makes far more sense,” The Blade nodded confidently.

Rosa and Doxx exchanged glances of skepticism at each other at The Blade’s words as Bookshelf continued. “I am familiar with this spell, although I do not possess it.”

“I know of that one,” Sage Redoubt said nodding in agreement. “I have used the illusion in my training, and it is used by the Phantom Knights in Aundair although I also didn’t know the spell. Not useful for groups, unless everyone can cast it.”

“Eh?” Doxx turned to ask. “Why not?”

“You can only create a single horse. It can be created with a ritual and maintained as well. But a single wizard can only create perhaps five or six at a time with great effort. But it *is* useful for a scout.”

“Or a single woman running for her life,” Rosa said sighing. “How far could she get on this…illusion?”

“Miles. If she kept at it, many leagues,” Bookshelf said.

“Well. I guess catching her is out of the question then,” Doxx said sardonically.

“No…we follow her,” Mobad said. “She not well. Stumbled to here. She will need to rest.”

“We’re going to need a place too…its what four days to Denning?” Doxx said.

The two warforged looked at each other and shrugged, unsurprised, while The Blade muttered, “Justice doesn’t sleep and nor do I.”

Rosa rolled her eyes, “Let’s get going then.”



The rain started to lessen, but it left a fog in the warm air, making it difficult to see clearly. They followed the horses’ trail. It was an effort between Mobad, Adrissa and The Blade to find the hoofprint spread across the floor of the valley. But suddenly, Mobad stopped, and gripped his great axe tightly.

“What’s wrong now?” Doxx asked annoyed.

“She slowed down. Then horse moved uncertain, and then erratically, “ he then turned to look at the old woman. “And then there are new tracks. Not seen these before. She was chased.”

“By what…exactly?” and Bookshelf’s voice trailed off as they asked the group as they slowly turned their head around. Then they all heard it. A rhythmic pounding of something heavy running towards them from somewhere in the mist.

“That can’t be good,” Doxx said gripping their staff tightly.

“No it can’t,” said Rosa as she bent down on all fours and slipped into the shape of a bear. Everyone now could hear the rattles of bone on bone, growing closer. And just as Rosa changed form, from the mists charged a half dozen figures. That they were vegepygmies was clear, but what wasn’t were their steeds. Their heads were broad and flat, with a toothy maw. Their bodies were vaguely frog like, but with lupine legs. The vegepygmies that sat astride them, had a single shield on one arm, while the other had a long sharp spear.

Both the warforged yelled, “GROUND!” and each quickly moved to take cover behind a tree. One of the mounted opponents tried to lance the juggernaut as it passed the tree, but the lance splintered as it struck Sage’s shield. As it passed close Sage swung and swiftly knocked one off its mount, to the sound of sizzles as the green flames died. Meanwhile Bookshelf simply pointed his finger at the mounted vegepygmy and a beam of frosty light struck and knocked his opponent to the earth well before the lance could strike them. But to both of their surprise, the mounts stopped and hissed.

“I don’t think they like us,” Bookshelf said as he dodged away from the hissing plant. It snapped at the worforged failing to injure him. Sage faced the same problem, as one of the plant like beasts clawed and chewed on his shield to no avail.

“They aren’t bright enough to run though,” Sage noted.

Mobad gave out a shout, as a lance struck the orc in the thigh. But the retaliation was fierce as Mobad cut down through the rider and into the mount. The mount hissed at the orc and it quickly snapped and grazed the orc with its teeth. But like the pygmies he could see that the fibers that made the ribs section already growing and closing the rent in its side. Bellowing in anger Mobad roared, “Need fire!”

“If I only I could,” said The Blade swiftly firing arrows and knocking off two more riders to the ground. “But fire tends to warp the shafts. Keep chopping citizen!”

“GGGRWARRR,” yelled the ursine Rosa, as she sunk her teeth into one of the mounts, following up with a swipe of her claws. The Vegepygmie fell flat onto the ground, which allowed Adrissa to run up and stab it with her sword, and then slashed at Rosa’s prey.

Another beam from Bookshelf froze a corpse of a Vegepygmy. “You will have to keep hacking at them,” the slender warforged said. “So, I can catch up and freeze them. Or you can use a torch or something.”

Doxx nodded and pulled off of their pack a torch. Smiling a second, it quickly turned into a frown. “This might take a moment to light.” The old woman said annoyed.

“This might help,” and a gush of red flame spread out from the Juggernaut, catching the mounts, the riders, bodies of both, and at the edge of conflagration it clipped the torch held out by Doxx.

“Yes…that does,” Doxx nodded with satisfaction, and then with a staff in one hand and and a torch in another, they proceeded to run among the group, setting fire to the unmoving bodies that lay on the earth. The old woman ran like the wind, searing fallen bodies, and several of the mounts alike, while evading snaps and lances. But once the old woman pressed their torch on the final unlit Vegepygmy, the remaining mounts, turned and ran, quickly disappearing into the fog. The group, not eager to pursue, stopped and caught their breath.

“Think they can talk?” Doxx asked, as the creatures disappeared from view.

“Gww….No,” said Rosa, returning to her normal self. “Those were thornies, but I thought they were smaller, and slower. Whatever the Children of Winter have done, they have learned to make these bigger….if not smarter.”

“Then they cannot report our location,” Sage said. “But we will need to rest soon. We have been moving all the prior night and most of the day, And while we do not tire, we must rest to recollect ourselves,” he said looking at Bookshelf who nodded in agreement.

“Where, are we going to be safe out here?” Doxx exclaimed in frustration. “And wont Myrai just gain more distance.”

“She evading patrols will slow her,” Mobad said simply. “We try after we rest.”

“Doesn’t change the problem of where is safe.” Doxx retorted.

“I know a place. Its not far,” Adrissa said and she started to walk down the hillside. The group looked at each other quizzically, and then the Juggernaut shrugged and followed the girl, with Mobad, Rosa, The Blade and Bookshelf in tow.

“What? We’re going to follow a little girl now?” the old woman said in disbelief.

“As you said, you know only what you read,” Rosa pointed out. “She actually lives here, so come on., and bring the flame so we can make a fire.”

Doxx stood there with the sputtering torch before muttering under their breath. “I don’t know what Moranna was thinking when she sent me. But I bet Melisandre is at fault.” And then they trudged after the group.

Before long, Adrissa came to a small creek leading down from the mountains and followed it into a wash. She followed the banks, which had during spring thaws the floodwaters had cut deep into the hillside. After a while they arrived at a stand of trees that sat at the bank’s edges, and Adrissa bent down and crawled past a wall of weeds, disappearing from view.

They stared for a moment, when her head appeared out of the brush, “Come on, its dry down here, and you can even stand. Might want to bring a light first, its dim.

Bookshelf took out their driftglobe and lit it, and then on all fours crawled into the weeds. Below, the river had cut open an earthen cave, with some rock on the sides, preventing it from cutting deeper. The bare earthen floor was dry, and descended downwards, indeed allowing Bookshelf to stand hunched in the hidden cave.

“How did you find this?” The warforged asked, as Rosa climbed in next.

Adrissa was quiet for a moment, and as The Blade climbed inside, she answered reluctantly, “My…father liked to hunt, and we setup a deer camp nearby and I found it exploring. It’s flooded normally after the spring thaws, but…that hasn’t happened yet.”

Bookshelf stood there and looked at the girl, and opened its jaw to say something, before catching themselves. Finally, it said only, “I see” quietly under their breath.

The Blade stood up as best he could, and nodded in appreciation, “Resourceful. I approve.”

“Of course, you do,” Doxx said climbing inside. “For someone that skulks on the dark rooftops in Sharn—”

“Compared to someone hiding under a pile of ‘Inquisitives’ in the alley?” The Blade said mildly.

“Do you …know each other?” Mobad asked as he squeeze inside looking at the pair suspiciously.

“No!” both The Blade and Doxx said emphatically as Mobad sat on the floor and looked back and forth at them, eyes squinted.

“Well…I guess I’m last. Just pull me if I get stuck,” Sage said as the bulky juggernaut blocked the dim light outside. “Or not. I can be a door…or a cork I suppose.”

Doxx still glared at the elf, “So what were you doing on the roof?”

“Probably the same thing as you in the alley,” The Blade said mildly.

Mobad still squinted at the pair before his eyes settled on Doxx. He then raised a hand as if to shield his vision and see only a part of the old woman. His eyes grew wide, and he jumped to his knees with his axe at the ready. “You! You were in MY ALLEY!”

Doxx glared back, “Yes…uncomfortably.”

“Why were you watching us?” Mobad said his temper seething.

“I wasn’t exactly. I was waiting for The Blade so I could watch him,” Nodding at the masked elf.

“You really are a terrible spy,” The Blade responded. “That pile of newspapers was an obvious cover. And yes Mobad, I knew where your gang was hiding, and I was tipped off that the Watch was coming to pick you all up. Turns out I was wrong. It was the Dark Lanterns.”

“Looking for me,” Doxx said annoyed.

“Us actually. I could hear them talk. They were looking for two people, and not his old boss,” and he pointed at Mobad, who knelt there confused. “Which begs the question on why you were there looking for me.”

“I just follow orders,” Doxx snapped.

“Like when Melisandre called for you?”

At the sound of her name, Doxx moved close to The Blade, “No, and what do you know. Who are you?”

The Blade sighed, “Well, I don’t know what was in your letter, but she seemed to know a lot about myself. And rather than be exposed, I choose to expose myself.—”

“That sounded wrong,” Bookshelf whispered to Rosa.

“Shh…I want to hear this,” Rosa said.

“My name is,” and the Blade removed the domino mask he wore constantly, “Adrian Seinessa,” The others looked at him blankly as he turned his head expectantly. “Come on…of the trading good stores in Sharn? You must have heard of us.”

Mobad raised a finger and then it drooped, his hand resting on his chin. He thought deeply before saying with certainty. “No.”

The Blade turned to Doxx and looked at him waiting, and the old woman shrugged, “No…I…no.”

“You are a terrible spy,”

“Shut up!”

“Now, now dears,” Rosa said soothingly as she stepped between the pair…rather than fight about this, why don’t we rest, find the girl, save the town and whatnot. Like it or not, we’re all we have. Let’s not try to kill each—” and she glared at Bookshelf before looking at Adrissa. ”—each other.”

Sometime later, the center of the small cave held a small pile of torches, near burned to ash, surrounded by the seven reluctant partners. Aside from the larger juggernaut occupying the entrance, everyone had claimed a space against a wall. Their unspoken effort to put as much distance between each other as possible, seemed to be a result of their recent experiences and revelations. Each of them in their own way was struggling to reconcile the things they've learned. The first was that no one inside this cave would be wise to trust any other. But the second was that possibly no one outside this cave can be trusted at all. For the foreseeable future, this collection of people were the only allies they were each likely to find.

The newest addition to this wary band was also the first to have fallen asleep. Her new short sword lay close at hand, the girl seemed either completely unafraid or too exhausted to worry anymore. Such a spirit was a rare thing to find in someone so young. She clearly had a heroic future ahead of her. But first she had to survive this.

The Blade pulled another tiny capsule from a pocket under his cloak, and carefully attached it to the arrow in his other hand. He studied it for a brief moment, before slipping it into the quiver with the others. He like the others sat with his back against the wall with one hand holding the bow across his lap. He allowed his hood to droop down slightly, which blocked his eyes from view and left his mind to wander.



The small room is bathed in late-afternoon sunlight pouring through the single window. A young elven boy, who appeared to be twelve human years of age, sits alone on a wooden bench. His normally fine clothing has seen better days, and as he stares patiently at his feet, an occasional blink is followed by a wince of irritation from his swollen right eye.

Footsteps down the hall catches his attention, but he doesn't look up, even when a man's voice comes into earshot. "Some of the children have said that he started a fight with two older boys, but I don't know much more than that. He hasn't exactly been talkative," the voice of the headmaster explains as his and another pair of feet seem to be approaching the room.

A woman's voice responds tersely, “I see. Well, I'll take it from here.”

When the elven woman appears in the doorway, if she has any reaction to the sight of his black eye, it is undetectable. Her pinned-up blonde hair, sophisticated dress, and humorless expression portray a woman of class… a severely inconvenienced woman of class.

She says nothing but stands expectantly with arms folded. He stands up from the bench, picks up the satchel of books next to him, and quietly follows her down the hall, ignoring the headmaster as they leave. Stepping out to the street, they both quietly climb into a waiting coach, which then begins to roll away.

The rhythm of the trotting hooves on the cobblestone road seems to count the seconds as the two silently watch the city roll by, each through their own window. Minutes pass before the woman patiently breaks the silence. "How did it start?"

The boy looks away from his window. “I punched him.”

“Punched whom?”

With the slightest shrug, he replies “The one on the left.”

Her response is a soft sigh, tinged with a hint of disappointment. “Why?”

“They were picking on Byron, and he gets scared easy, and they know he can't fight, but they—"

“No,” the one word, soft as it is, instantly stops him. “Why the one on the left?”

Perplexed, the boy searches for an acceptable response but finds nothing.

Her next sigh forgoes all disappointment, in favor of a new hint of exasperation. “You left your right side completely undefended. You can't do that with two targets. You hit the target on your right first and keep your left arm up to guard against the other.”

Mildly embarrassed by how obvious it seems now, he simply mutters “Oh… yeah.”

She gives him only seconds to dwell on it before she asks, “Did you widen your stance like we talked about?”

“No.”

“And what happened?”

His eyes tilt away as a sheepish smile crosses his face. “I ended up on my ass.”

A sudden chuckle escapes the woman's stern lips, and a louder laugh from the boy follows almost immediately. Eventually the laughter gives way once again to the rhythmic cobblestone clock, and a long moment passes before the boy speaks again.

“Will Father be mad?”

“Probably,” she says bluntly. After a side glance in his direction, she adds “But more at me than you.” Her lips briefly form the closest thing to a smile he's seen today.

“He doesn't want me to fight.”

“He just doesn't want you in danger.”

The boy's focus drifts toward his feet with a long, pensive sigh. “I really thought I could win.”

Her eyes spend a few silent seconds on him before they shift to the world outside her window. “Is your friend all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you won.”

A new smile slowly spreads across his face. He turns back to the view through his own window, his swollen black eye entirely at odds with his satisfied grin.

“Yeah. I did.”

The Blade’s smile went unnoticed by all, as the final embers burned away to ash and the soft sound of snores echoed in the darkness.




It was much later when the others awoke and stretched. It was dark again outside and the group ate a berry provided by Rosa that morning. As they ate, Doxx turned to Sage and asked “So, did we miss anything?”

“Two patrols, mounted. Didn’t even slow down. They were searching with their eyes, but the fog makes things hard to see. But it settled down now.”

“Can the the Vegepygmy things see in the dark?” Bookshelf asked.

“No,” Rosa said. “They need light.”

“Then moving in the dark makes the most sense. We will have an advantage as Mobad and I can see in—”

“—I can see in the dark,” Adrissa pointed out.

“—see in the dark with Adrissa,” The Blade continued. “Now we need to—”

“Meow.”

“Pardon Rosa?” The Blade said confused, turning to look at the druid. She in turn was looking at the entrance to their hideout. There, blocking the exit, sat a black cat, looking around bored.

“Well great hiding spot,” Doxx said gesturing at the intruder. “Any smart animal can find us and…” his voice trailed off as the cat stretched itself, arching its back. As it did so, a pair of black glossy wings unfurled and flapped lazily for a moment, as the cat sat back down on its haunches and began to groom its face.

“That…that’s…” Doxx said stammering.

“Myrai’s familiar,” Rosa said looking at the rest. “We’re close.”

*Session Notes: *I was actually talking to 'The Blades' player, Ryan last night about his writing, complaining about tenses.  Right now, events written here are from December 2019, and there is a lot of memorable dialog, and a lot of forgotten context.  So reconstructing it is a challenge.  It helps to have 'The Blade', 'Sage Redoubt' and 'Adrissa Tannoch' close at hand for memory jogs.

Fortunately, The two POV's will finally meet.  Unfortunately, that doesn't mean it gets any easier.  It never does.


----------



## Wilpower784

Lots of stuff finally coming together, and The Blade unmasked too. All very interesting...

On another note, I really enjoy the forensics/trail following from Mobad. Not that long ago, I wrote a short story for a scholarship, and I decided to make it a murder mystery. The thing I learned from that is coming up with a plot and then coming up with a set of clues leading up to what really happened is very, very hard. So seeing that used well, both in this latest chapter and the mystery of Myrai’s escape I find really impressive.


----------



## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> Lots of stuff finally coming together, and The Blade unmasked too. All very interesting...
> 
> On another note, I really enjoy the forensics/trail following from Mobad. Not that long ago, I wrote a short story for a scholarship, and I decided to make it a murder mystery. The thing I learned from that is coming up with a plot and then coming up with a set of clues leading up to what really happened is very, very hard. So seeing that used well, both in this latest chapter and the mystery of Myrai’s escape I find really impressive.



Well, I will try not to cheat and introduce characters or scenarios that weren't covered in the text beforehand like Agatha Christie.  It also helps that we don't have to wait till the end of the book to see the results.

Thanks for the comments on the forensics.  This is leaned into heavily in the Eberron setting with Sharn and inquistives.  But...investigation can happen anywhere, and with any skill.  But in an adventure, that makes characters with skills interesting.


----------



## Nthal

Caught between a rock…5/9/2021​

The cat finished washing its face and stood again. It seemed to be surveying the band looking at each one, vocalizing in soft trills as it did so. Then it moved back to the entrance to their hidden cave and waited patiently for someone to mov. When none of the group made a move, it flexed its wings and paced in front of them, with the sound of a low growl.

“What is it doing?” Doxx whispered.

“I think it can hear you,” Sage remarked.

In a normal voice, “Well it can’t understand us, so what is it doing?”

“I think it wants us to follow it,” Adrissa said kneeling down. The cat responded and trotted over and immediately bunted her on the knee, purring as it did so.

“I think it *can *understand us.” Bookshelf said rubbing his chin. “I remember that familiars can certainly understand their master…or mistress in this case. But most of them are…well normal beasts. I have never heard of a winged cat though.”

At the utterance ‘dumb beasts’ the cat turned and looked at Bookshelf, flattened its ears and growled. It then finished nuzzling Adrissa’s legs, and then scampered towards the entrance again.

“Well, whether it does understand us, I am not a fan of following it in the dark,” The Blade said. “It’s not that I don’t trust it outright, but I don’t trust it because it can’t answer questions.”

Rosa had been quiet for a little bit murmuring under her breath. She then moved forward toward the cat and then addressed it, “So…you’re Myrai’s familiar? Right?”

The cat trilled in response. The others had heard a cat meow before, but the strange sound it made wasn’t familiar to most of them. But to Rosa the trilling was far more informative.

“His name is Gossamer,” Rosa said. “And I’m to tell the slender warforged that it indeed can understand us…all of us.”

“That’s interesting—,” started Bookshelf before Sage interrupted, “—Pardon did it actually say warforged?

Rosa nodded, “It did actually…that’s a first. Usually when an animal refers to a warforged, they called it something like ‘tree thing person” or ‘rock thing person.’ But if this one understands language, it must have heard the term. It’s very smart.”

The cat gave a plaintive meow followed by more trilling.

“Its…species is called ‘tressym’ and…it does it wants us to follow him. It appears that Myrai is trapped, by a pair of Vegepygmies.”

“It said that?” Doxx said in a light tone of disbelief.

“Yes…it actually said vegepygmies. And…while she was not exactly safe when he left, and she’s…not well.” Rosa continued as the cat vocalized with other sounds.

“Blind?” Mobad asked, looking at the cat with interest.

“No…yes…more than that, she’s sick somehow. Exhausted?” Rosa chuckled a moment, “And Gossamer is not a healer so asking him for an opinion is pointless.”

The Blade nodded, “Of course it points out the obvious. It may not be a cat, but it has a lot in common.”

Rosa blushed a moment, “Well…it seems that tressym can breed with cats, but he would like you to please stay on topic and follow him.”

The Blade shrugged, “Well, we know that there are only two of them, that shouldn’t be a problem. Even if they are big ones.”

Gossamer trilled again and Rosa then said, “Yes he can count, yes two of them, and yes they are big ones.”

Sage fastened his armblade onto his arm. “Well then, this sounds like a bad fairy tale, but let’s go save the girl.” And the group crawled out of the cave with Doxx in the rear muttering, “Oh like its going to be that straightforward.”

Outside, the low hanging clouds were lit up of with the dim light of the moons, lcasting everything in a dim shadowy light. Streams of lightning coursed through the air every few moments, with the occasional rumble of thunder. The wind was blowing again, now cool and damp in the night air, and the tree branches, many still bare of leaves, clattered together. Gossamer now leapt up into the air, and his wings caught the air; with his rear legs and tail trailing straight behind him, and his front paws tucked under its chest, as it meowed again.

“He says, she maybe a half day travel ahead, by the edge of the stream by a large finger of rock,” Rosa told the group.

“I know that place!” Adrissa said excitedly and she looked at Gossamer who was swooping around them in the air. “The rock is what, bigger than him? “and pointed at the juggernaut Sage, “And has three smaller ones surrounding its base? Right?”

Rosa smiled at the sounds of the cat’s purr, “He says that’s the place.”

“Come on then,” Adrissa said as she and the cat led them along the stream.

“Great; now we are following a girl and a cat,” Doxx muttered.

Sage looked at the old woman, “You want to lead?”

Doxx scrunched their face like they had bit into a sour lemon. “If I did, you all would *still *follow them.”

Despite the dim conditions, the travel along the creek was eased by Adrissa’s knowledge of the area. While they knew that it would be a while before they reached the stone, they hurried as best they could. As they continued, it was clear that Adrissa knew the land very well. This was her backyard in a way, and her familiarity was a comfort to the group, who were worried enough about patrols. Having Adrissa lead the way allowed them to focus on other threats that might be lurking the darkness. However, none appeared, and they found themselves climbing up a small rise when they heard a dull pounding sound ahead of them. Causing the tressym to trill again.

“The rock is on the other side, and it sounds like they are still pounding it.” Rosa whispered to the group.

“Its going to be hard to fight in the dark,” Sage noted.

“I will take care of lighting the field,” Bookshelf said, letting his unlit driftglobe loose to fly in the air above him.

“Well then,” Sage said as he adjusted his shield, and walked up the side with his barrier in front of him, and his arm blade at the ready. The others followed in the juggernaut’s wake, each preparing their weapons in anticipation of combat. Once they crested the top of the rise, they could finally see the rock.

It stood in the center of a clearing, a gray finger of stone, easily twice the height of Sage, with three smaller stones clustered at the base, and a scattering of rock and moss at the base. Lighting coursing through the sky illuminated the rock, casting flashing shadows in all directions. Circling the stone were a pair of Vegepygmies, but if the term was inappropriate to the hulks before, it was even less now. The pair that stalked the stone would easily tower over Sage, and their prodigious bulk were easily twice of the hulks they faced before.

“By the Sovereigns,” Doxx muttered, “How big do these things get?”

“Where is Myrai Gossamer?” Rosa asked, and a single silent meow was the answer, causing Rosa to pull herself short before saying, “Inside…the stone?”

Adrissa turned and looked at the group, “That doesn’t make sense; that stone is…well solid stone.”

Rosa listened to the tressym’s chattering sound and looked at the warforged, “She used magic to enter it somehow. And just as she finished, the pair charged her and the stone. But it should be almost up.”

“Can you talk to Myrai now?” Bookshelf asked. After a quiet moment, a single low meow was the response.

"She’s alive but she’s…not making sense,” Rosa responded after conferring with Gossamer.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mobad said clutching his axe in his meaty hands. “They bleed, we freeze and burn, we can kill them.” And without waiting the orc started to run down to the clearing. After a quick glance at each other, Sage, Adrissa and Doxx followed the charging orc, with Rosa and The Blade close behind. As he built up speed the orc bellowed and burst into the clearing. Using a nearby stone for leverage he heaved his bulk into the air and gripped his axe with both hand intending to cut the colossal vegepygmie into two.

The axe found its mark, and cut down into the thing’s chest, spraying Mobad with an acrid smelling substance. The orc roared in pain, as he swung again in time with Sage who ignited his armblade and cut across the back of the monstrosity’s legs, and then flinging the flame against the second one, who pounded futilely against Sage’s shield. The juggernaut looked small compared to their bulk, but stood resolutely against the pounding, as flickers of magic surrounded him. But he growled as Mobad’s second cut sprayed them both with caustic fluid.

“Their blood is laced with something,” Sage yelled as the sudden light of the driftglobe illuminated the rock. As he yelled, Doxx swung their staff and struck his opponent, causing another spray of fluid to erupt and covering the trio. “Well beating it doesn’t help,” the old woman said between her teeth, clenched in pain.

“Then cut them down fast!” Adrissa yelled, slashing at the colossus’ legs with a pair of short swords, cutting deep into their calves as she continued to run past. The cuts sprayed everywhere, and Adrissa screamed as she was covered with the sickly green fluid. And likewise the others winced as well as the caustic mist covered them. As she ran, she was struck by a claw like appendage, causing her to stumble and almost lose her footing.

“Maybe if we puncture it!” The Blade said, and he fired a pair of arrows into one of them. Both sank deep into the flesh of the vegecolossus, and again more fluid sprayed forth, drenching Sage, Doxx and Mobad, all of whom grunted as the liquid burned flesh, metal and wood alike. Adrissa was just out of range of the deluge, and she rolled away keeping it that way.

“I don’t think that helped,” Rosa said her hands moving. Around Sage a warm green light appeared, and some of the burns from the acid started to dissipate. At the same time a warm yellow light surrounded Adrissa, her wounds closing.

Sage yelled. “We need to separate them and keep your distance.”

Bookshelf heedless of the danger continued his chant, and then with a snap of their fingers, hurled a white ball of snow and ice toward the monstrous pair. It detonated into a blast of ice and rime covering both. As it did so, the frozen fibrous flesh fell away, and hurled slush like streams of liquid on Sage, Doxx and Mobad again, while Adrissa rolled and scrambled farther out of range.

“Stop that, or I break you!” Mobad roared, as he glared at the slender warforged in the distance. Seething he moved from the stone, and pulled a short slender shaft with a iron tip and flung it at his foe, while Sage too backed up away from his own. Each of them responded to their respective assailant and pursued, with only the sound of their heavy footsteps on the earth. Running by the pair, Doxx then spun and flames erupted from his hands and he seared it, without getting within its reach. He continued to run and got in front of Mobad.

Adrissa grimaced and dropped her sword, and drew her bow, firing an arrow deep into the flank of Mobad’s opponent. Another arrow from The Blade sank deep into it, as she shot again, as did The Blade. But the colossal vegepygmie turned, and charged at the small girl, lifting both fists into the air and brought them down upon her, and she collapsed onto the forest floor. It then turned and leaned down and chomped on Mobad on the clavicle, but Mobad wrested free from the jaws of the thing with a grunt and the sound of snapping bone.

Meanwhile Sage’s opponent was having far more difficulty getting around the juggernaut’s defenses, as his shield and his magical barriers made it difficult to strike him. Sage then yelled to the rest, “Focus the other one down, I will hold this one.” As he said that, the colossus finally made a sound; a rushing of air and what sounded like creaking wood and splintering. From its mouth erupted a stream of bile and it shook its head to scatter the liquid everywhere. Sage found himself drenched in the poisonous brew, and wavered a moment under the onslaught, before clanging his armblade against his shield. “I am Sage Redoubt, and I will not falter!” the juggernaut yelled in return, before swinging his a flaming blade once again.

Bookshelf created one of their frosty beams of light, and it hit Mobad’s colossus square in its back, causing more frozen flesh to slough off. “I don’t have a lot for this situation.” The warforged said mournfully.

“Well, my hands are full,” As she waved a hand, and a green mist formed around Adrissa, who shuddered and coughed. And then with a bit more effort a yellow light touched Mobad, causing his wounds to close. “I can’t heal them all at once. And every time we hit them, they hurt us.”

The Blade stopped a moment, and then notched an arrow that he had retrieved from the caverns under the Tannoch Ranch. “Well…perhaps a well-aimed shot will do.” And he let loose an arrow, just as Mobad pulled himself out of claw range. The arrow disappeared into the bulk, and there came the sound of a muffled crack. The colossus arched backwards and then lost its balance, landing with a loud thump onto the ground, flat on its back. Mobad wasted no time and leapt on top of the fallen vegecolossus and started to hack away. He ignored the sprays of caustic fluid, as he chopped and hacked with his axed deeply into its torso, almost cleaving it into two.

Doxx, then ran back towards Sage, and whirled her staff around her. Then with a flourish, a gout of flames erupted from its tip, igniting the second one into a conflagration of mold and rot. From behind him, Adrissa launched more arrows into its back, as did The Blade. It started to turn to face one of the archers, when Sage pointed his armblade at the overgrown pygmy. Slots opened from his arm, and three siberys dragonshard crystals appeared, and started to spin around his forearm. From the spinning crystals, five bluish white missiles streaked at his foe, each one striking it unerringly in the back. As it turned back to face the juggernaut, a single beam of frosty white light struck the monstrosity, in an already gaping wound. It stepped haltingly towards Sage, and then turned to face the direction that Bookshelf stood. After it took a second step forward it then collapsed and ceased to move as it lay on the earth.

Adrissa, sat on the ground and clutched herself in pain and started to cry. Rosa ran forward and touched her, casting some healing magic saying, “You’re fine…you’ll feel better in a moment.”

“Like Dolurrh she will!” Doxx stomped over angrily. “You shouldn’t just jump into a fight! At all! What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?”

“Doxx—” Rosa started to say, when Adrissa retorted.

“—So what? What are you going to do? Tell my dad?” she stood up and confronted the old woman, who backed up in surprise. “You think that shipping me off to Denning is somehow going to make things safe for me?” as she jabbed a finger into the chest of the old woman. “These things killed my friends…*skinned* my father. And you! You burned down my house, and have the gall to tell me what to do? So what if I die?!? I’ll be out of your ugly face then. Isn’t that what you want? So, shove it and leave me alone!”

Bookshelf came up behind Rosa and looked at the girl who looked like she was going to murder Doxx, with that finger stabbing the old woman’s chest. It then made a grinding noise in its throat, getting Adrissa and Doxx’s attention. “I burned down your house. Not Doxx. Sorry.” It said simply as it stood there with its arms limply at its side.

Adrissa’s eyes were still full of fury, glared at the warforged and was about to speak, when she bowed her head, and her shoulders slumped. She then said, “I…I understand.” She then turned to look at Doxx and said, “Just leave me alone.” and she stomped over to a tree and leaned against it and slid down and sat on the ground, her head laying on her knees.

Rosa stood, and nudged Doxx, “Leave her be. She has enough issues, without you becoming another one. Just let her work it out; and we’ll keep her safe.”

Doxx sighed and shrugged, as Mobad, Sage and The Blade approached. “I feel wrong.” Mobad said looking somehow green over his gray complexion.

“Those plants are poisonous,” Sage said. “More alarming is that they even exist. Riders, hulks, and …bigger hulks? What else did they make in those warrens?”

“Don’t forget mind controlling plants,” The Blade pointed out and asked. “These things are going to be a major problem if they get to a city. These two could easily wipe out city guards. Even professional soldiers.”

“All the more reason to get to Denning fast.” Doxx said emphatically.

“Well then,” Rosa said, turning to the tressym. “So…how do we get to Myrai?”

The cat was trilling again at Rosa when Bookshelf stood in front of the finger of stone. Spreading its arms apart, it started to mutter and then it clapped its hands together. A pulse of energy flashed away from the stone, like a bubble underwater that suddenly appeared, expanded and popped. With that final burst, a form was flung out of the stone and the sound of metal on metal clattered onto the ground.

They all rushed to the fallen form, and Doxx gently rolled over the figure onto her back. She lay there breathing shallowly as Rosa knelt next her. She was of medium height, and was dressed in a form fitting bronze breastplate, with a simple layered pattern etched into it. Her leggings were made of leather pieces, stitched together in a random pattern, colored in reds, browns and blacks. Around her waist was a rapier and pouches, while in one arm she had a shield, and the other a dark steel rod topped with a purple stone. Her hair was colored like metallic gold, but it was matted and was covered in dried blood, that clung tightly around her head. Her face was striking, but a quick glance told Rosa, she was not in good health. Her face was almost devoid of color, and her eyes were sunken into their sockets, and her cheeks were hollow. But the one bit of color on her face were the thick rivulets of blood that dripped from the corners of her closed eyes.

As she lay there, Gossamer flew down and landed on her breastplate, and then he started to nuzzle her face. The woman didn’t respond as the tressym kept nuzzling. He then turned and looked at the group and gave a single sad mournful meow.

*Session notes:*
Vegepygmie chiefs and thornies weren't enough.  No we needed bigger ones!  And more dangerous ones.  But that said, the characters were now starting to have a better feel for each other, especially my daughter who played Adrissa.

The only technical error was that Rosa should not have been able to talk to a familiar at all, as the find familiar spell changes their type to a "fey, fiend or celestial."  But it was ignored.  Otherwise I have this image of Gossamer trying to do charades or draw a message in the dirt to terrible results.


----------



## Wilpower784

United at last! And Myrai’s having a terrible time. Nothing unusual here.


----------



## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> United at last! And Myrai’s having a terrible time. Nothing unusual here.



Made prison look comfortable...although a trip to the Dreadhold might be harsher.   I don't really want to write that one though.

The vegepygmies didn't feed prisoners normally, and so Myrai was an exception.  They of course did that poorly, and Gwen really really didn't care.


----------



## Nthal

Reunions and Introductions - 5/23/2021​
Rosa rushed to the side of the fallen woman and placed a hand on her forehead for a moment, and then felt around the throat feeling for swelling. “She’s alive, but she has a fever, and looks to be half-starved.”

The Blade eyed the darkness around them his bow turned level to the ground, and an arrow notched and ready, “We shouldn’t stay here,” he said.

“Well, carrying her is going to slow us down,” Rosa pointed out. “We should get her up and moving first.”

Doxx still cradling the woman, “She’s out of it right now. Any ideas on how to wake her up?”

“Well, you could just shake her awake,” Bookshelf pointed out.

Gossamer however had other ideas. After watching the others for a moment, he shook his head. He then reached forward with a paw and extended a single claw. He then reached forward and placed the sharp tip on her lower lip and pressed down.

Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped for air. As they looked at her eyes, they saw no pupils or whites, silvery mirrored orbs. She brushed the tressym’s paw aside as she panted for breath, as her head turned around wildly, confused. “Who…what? Who’s there?” she said as she struggled to sit up and failed, collapsing back into Doxx’s arms. “I…I can’t see you.”

“Its alright dearie,” Rosa said placing her hand on the woman’s cheek and looking at the blood streaks from her eyes. “You are Myrai right? We were sent to find you.”

“Yes…,” she said giving a sigh of relief and she relaxed a moment before turning her head towards the sound of Rosa’s voice. “Who would have…Taryn? Did he send you?”

“Indeed,” Sage said causing Myrai to turn her head in the direction of his. “Taryn said you had been missing, and he sent us to the ranch. We have been following your trail from where you were held.”

As she lay there, her breathing eased. “That sodding gnome infected me. I tried to clear up mu blindness…but it didn’t work for long.”

“How did you get into the rock?” Bookshelf asked, and Myrai turned her head towards the new voice.

“A ritual I had,” she replied. “I figured it would be a bit safer than hiding in the brush when I couldn’t see. It took a while to do, but right as I finished, two huge vegepygmies charged at me. I was able to get into the stone first though. I was able to send Gossamer out to find someone, anyone that could help.” She lay there still, sounding a bit winded. “I don’t suppose you have some food? I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks.”

“Just a moment,” and Rosa pulled out a sprig of mistletoe from her pouch and whispered in the druidic language and cupped her hands together. From nothing, grew a handful of large red berries. “Everyone take one and eat it; we’ll be good for the day.” Each of the others each took a berry, while the warforged looked at them with curiosity.

“I am not accustomed to eating.” Sage said, and Bookshelf nodded in agreement.

“Just eat it dears. Even your kind can benefit from it,” Rosa said as she took one of the remaining berries and pressed it against Myrai’s lips.

Myrai opened her mouth and as she bit into it, her eyes grew wide, and without any hesitation she quickly sat up and clumsily grasped Rosa’s hand and shoved the rest of the berry into her mouth. Her face had an expression of rapture as she swallowed the fruits flesh, and she licked her lips savoring the berry’s flavor. Her breathing eased and color started to return to her face. She smiled as she spoke, “It’s been a long time since I had berries like this. Druid berries if I am not mistaken? A life saver then too.”

“I have to point out, we should really leave here, and turn off that light!” Doxx said pointing at the driftglobe.

“Quite right,” and Bookshelf extended his hand, and the globe lowered itself into it and it fell dark, as Bookshelf put it back into a pouch.

Myrai chuckled, “Well doesn’t change my problem, I can’t see.”

Rosa then reached into her pouch and pulled out one of the vials from the smashed crate in the cave.

“Wait Rosa,” Doxx said. “We only have a couple of those.”

“I spent last night translating the book,” Rosa responded. “We can make more with the right materials and none of them are particularly rare. And we can’t have her follow us blindly. Not if we want to move fast.”

“Do it,” Mobad said gruffly, causing Myrai to turn her head at the sound of the new voice. “She must be able to fend for herself.”

Looking around, the others didn’t argue further. Rosa then popped the stopper on the vial and leaned over Myrai. “This is probably going to sting.” And she then poured drops into both of Myrai’s eyes, and the woman winced and gritted her teeth.

“Sting? Sodding Baator that burns! Worse than brimstone.” She then started to blink as tears welled up in her eyes. and turned her head looking around at her familiar and the others. “That…that worked. It feels different than when I tried. When I did it, my eyes kept itching and I was soon blind again. How?”

“It looks like Gwen had a cure as well as a plague,” Rosa said. “Can you walk? We probably should get somewhere safer to talk and rest.”

Myrai nodded, “I feel better than I have in days with a full stomach.” And she stood up and stretched. “Lead on, and we can talk.” She then bent over and retrieved her rod from where it lay on the ground and noticed that Doxx still stared at her.

“What?”

“Your eyes,” the old woman said simply trying to lean in and look at them.

Myrai sighed and might have rolled her eyes, if anyone could tell, “I know, I know. Yes, I can see, and I was born with them that way. Anything else?”

“I wonder if…” Doxx said before straightening up, “Later I suppose dear,”

Myrai squinted a moment, and then shrugged, “Alright…sure. Where are we going?”

“Back to Denning citizen, “The Blade said before turning to Adrissa, who continued to stare at the strange woman. “Do you know a way or somewhere safe?”

Adrissa nodded, “We’re getting close to the Four Oaks camp, but that’s on the road. But I know of a deer blind that is secluded.




I was crying when my sight returned. Not just because of the burning pain of the ointment, but I was unsure if I was ever going to see again. I grew up being able to *always* see; I could create light so I could see the world in color, and when I was young, even the world in shades of grey was comforting. I had played some Sensate games, like “Game of You” that required blindfolds, or darkness. But that was a game, and the blindfold was discarded at the end, sight returned. I had met some that lost their sight fighting, some because of illness, and some that never knew it. But I never realized how frightening it was to lose it. I was thankful, and at the same time humbled at how precious a gift it really was. I now really understood how others felt, and how difficult it was to overcome such loss.

But I dried my tears and was surprised to find that this band was following a little girl through the valley. It wasn’t a question of skill, she clearly had it. But I couldn’t imagine Taryn hiring her. Or Melisandre recruiting her.

And unlike the others she wasn’t well equipped. She was in the equivalent of hand me down clothing in terms of a leather jerkin, and weapons. I was curious about her story, and how she was the one they relied on to guide them. For that matter the ancient woman that travelled with us was a puzzle too. She was very spry for someone her age, and her mind was pretty sharp. But I couldn’t imagine why Taryn would have hired her. It made me curious.

But I was curious about all of them. A full-blooded orc, a massive figure of muscle marched along side a halfling, who attire, and air spoke volumes about her; a druid I was sure after consulting with Gossamer. And then there was the two warforged; one ‘normal’ sized, who’s equipment reminded me of Beepu’s; someone skilled in magic. And then the other; a massive figure of metal plates, shield and a blade extending from an arm. Of the warforged that I had seen, he seemed to embody the term more than any other I had seen.

But it was the elf with the bow and the whip at his side, that I was most curious about. His poise and agility were exactly what I would expect from one, and his eyes never stopped looking ahead and behind for trouble. This was expected but what wasn’t was, well…a presence. Something about him tugged at me, and as we continued, I realized that more than a presence.

Somehow, I could feel my strands being drawn to him. Pulled gently, like two people walking by each other, and their sleeves catching on each other. And it wasn’t the strands I associated with light or darkness either; it was the ones that were a true part of me; the one that created light and my ephemeral wings.

But I dared not ask anything yet. The others had clearly met Vegepygmies out in the open, and clearly didn’t want to attract them now, which I had no issue with. Unfortunately, that meant I had only one person to talk to as we travelled.

_--You really should be thanking me more. I think I deserve a—”

You know Goss; I appreciate you finding help, but you’re being awfully smug about it.

--And why not? I mean without my help you would have been pounded by that pair of overgrown mold!

And the fact that you cease to exist, the instant I am off to see my god has nothing to do with it?

--Well…it was a little bit of motivation.

Look, I’ll find you something of quality to play with or eat *after* we are somewhere safe.

--I was thinking about drawing up a list to…help you find the right rewards for someone of my importance.

Seriously?!? Alright that’s enough out of you. You’re going to be lucky to have a box to sleep in when we get to town!”_

For miles this went on. I finally had to threaten him with being stuck in pocket space before he would let it go.

We kept marching and finally, Adrissa turned, and climbed up the side of the valley. It was a bit of a struggle, but finally we found ourselves on a small ledge, that was surrounded by what appeared to be a wooden palisade, with shrubs that had been planted around the outside. Within, there was a fire ring, and clear space for us to stretch out and rest.

The orc and the elf started to scout around, to make sure we were alone while the warforged stood in the center of camp and watched. I sat down, and sighed. My legs ached. I realized with a smile, that it had been months since I walked anywhere. How I tread the forests, the plains and swamps in Toril. I guess the rail and riding on horseback was spoiling me.

At that thought I reached into my pouch and pulled out a mirror. I steeled myself and then looked at myself in it. As I expected, I was an utter mess. The blood in my hair, and the filth streaked across my face. I knew that I had dressed in a hurry days ago, and that the rest of me couldn’t have been any better. And the less I thought of my body odor, the better. While I realized needed sleep, I needed to be clean first.

But what I really wanted was a warm hot bath, and bottle to ease the pain and the memories of the last several weeks. But I was going to have to just make do. So I began what used to be my ‘travelling on the road’ ritual that I had done with Wy. I slid out the silver wand and tapped it, summoning the shapeless force, and I whispered to it in my native tongue to help me remove my armor, and for it to hold it and my rod and sword belt. I looked under my shirt and remembered how much blood had left me and how much still stained my skin. And I didn’t really want to think about the rest of the filth.

So, I started to pull on the light strand and using the mirror I started to strip the layers of dirt, spattered blood away from my hair and face. I then started to clean the rest of me, when I belatedly realized I was being watched by the others. The orc and elf had returned, and everyone was looking at me silently.

“Sorry? I haven’t been clean…in a while,” I said pointing out the obvious, at least to me.

“It’s alright dear,” the halfling Rosa said. “Its not like you are bathing in the creek,”

I chuckled, “That is true, but you all do seem to know me by name, I know the little that Melisandre told me,” I said as I continued to clean my skin and clothes. The old woman I noticed squinted at me, as I said that, but didn’t interject.

“Quite right. Well, that’s Mobad,” she gestured at the orc, “Bookshelf,” nodding at the normal warforged, “Sage and —”

“—Sage Redoubt,” the massive warforged corrected.

“Yes dear,” the halfling smiled. “Adri…er The Blade,” she motioned to the elf, “the old woman you see is Doxx, the girl is miss Adrissa Tannoch, and I am Rosa d’Jorasco.”

“Well…thanks everyone for coming to help me. I…wasn’t expecting any help honestly.”

“Taryn was concerned to say the least, as were Flinsa Gask back at the inn.”

I nodded, “Well I guess I owe him my thanks as well. But where is Taryn and Debrika?”

“We don’t know,” The Blade said. “We were following you to the Tannoch ranch, and Taryn, Debrika and some Blademarks headed to a different one. We haven’t seen them since.”

“I don’t suppose you have seen Melisandre anywhere?” Doxx asked looking at me intently.

I was surprised at the question, “I saw her last was in Cattbron. She and Taryn introduced and put…put me in charge of some Blademarks,” I said glumly at the memory of Wy and the others. “But that was…what weeks ago? Why?”

“Doxx believes that the woman has led him here under false pretenses and wishes to question her.” Bookshelf said quietly.

I furrowed my brow a moment, “Um…him?” and I looked at the old woman, as Doxx glared at bookshelf.

Rosa rubbed her eyes, “Bookshelf that is a bit rude to expose our friend here.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I am a little…new here, but what are you talking about?”

Doxx rolled their eyes, “It means I’m a changeling.”

I must have looked confused, as Sage picked up on it quickly, “Wait. You don’t know what that is, do you? And you also said you are ‘new’ here? And you are also unlike any human that I have encountered or read about.”

I sighed, “Well, I’m not from here—”

“—From Karnnath?” The Blade asked. “I knew it.”

“From Eberron,” I said. “I fell through a portal from a world called Toril and found myself on my back in a bar in Krona Peak.”

Sage nodded, “So you are the one. I came through Krona Peak and heard stories of a strange woman with funny eyes that was, depending on who told it, wrecked a bar, escaped from prison, and stood trial and a Soldorak was imprisoned instead. The details were lacking though.”

I shrugged, “All of those things really. But as to your other question, I’m not human.”

“And I’m not a changeling,” Doxx said sarcastically.

“I’m not. I’m an Aasimar,” I said evenly.

“What’s that?” Adrissa asked.

“It means…that the blood of angels course through my blood. And in my case, I’m…a daughter of one.”

I saw Adrissa’s eyes grow wide, and her jaw drop open. This stood in contrast to Doxx who looked at me, like I was trying to bob him. The others looked at each other, clearly unable to decide whether to believe me.

I sighed and stood up. And taking out a greenie from my pouch, I focused a moment. I felt the rush up and down my back as I created a dim note of light on the coin. The warforged looked at each other and shrugged, and said nothing, while Doxx, Mobad, Rosa and The Blade all looked at me in surprise. But it was Adrissa that had the strongest reaction. She looked awestruck and she fell to her knees with tears in her eyes. I had seen that look before in Waterdeep, and usually I dreaded it.

But for her, I knew there was sad story behind her dead eyes. ‘Tannoch’ as in a member of the Tannoch family who owned the ranch. A ranch that as far as I had known, the Vegepygmies had killed everyone that lived there. Everyone but this little girl, forced to grow up and fight to survive. I had seen that look in Sigil during the Faction War. And now, instead of dead eyes, I saw a glimmer of hope in them, like a flower blooming in the frost; delicate and at risk of being frozen.

I smiled, and stepped towards her, and knelt and placed the coin in her outstretched hand. "It won’t last forever, but you can have it for as long as it lasts.” Turning again to the others, “I was told by Melisandre that Aasimar are rare here. But it seems that travelers from far flung places are even rarer.”

“I’ve never heard of a place called Toril,” Bookshelf said quietly.

“And I’m not even from there…I was born in Sig—” I started to say when my attention was diverted. At the edge of my vision, through the trees, I saw a pair of figures approaching.

“_Ka’u’ ko’ali’o!” _I said, and the shapeless force, flung my rod into my waiting hands. The others caught on quickly and grabbed for their weapons, as I turned and levelled my rod in the direction of the figures. The Blade and Adrissa point pointed bows in the direction I was facing, while the others brandished staff, sword, and axe.

_Goss; go high and see who they are.

—On it._

“I don’t see anything,” Adrissa whispered.

“Nor I; are you sure you see something citizen?” The Blade said in a low tone

I nodded and watched and waited. The pair approached slowly. At first, I thought it was simply caution. But it was clear something else was at play.

_--Boss, I can see them now. It’s your employer._

“Taryn,” I said aloud.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

An enjoyable update. Good to see Myrai restored to health, and I look forward to what will presumably be learned from Taryn. Keep it up.


----------



## Nthal

Faith - 6/4/2021​

Mobad squinted out in the darkness, “I see nothing,”

“Nothing is very dark for me,” I said to the orc. I took out from my pouch a copper wire, and with a quick thought, threw a loop of a white strand in the direction of Taryn,

“_Taryn? Its Myrai, we’re coming to get you and Debrika.”

“Myrai?” came the reply. “Debrika thought she saw a light. I am glad you are alright, what about the others?”

“Well…some are with me now, others…didn’t make it. We’ll talk more when you are safe.”_

“Come on Mobad, let’s give them a hand.” I said, and I walked out into the forest towards the Mror. We made our way to them quickly, and it became apparent why they were moving slow.

Both of them had been fighting, Debrika’s face was only scowls as we approached. Not because of us, but because of what had happened. Her armor was dented and covered in blood and ichor, and her warhammer had clearly seen a lot of use. Taryn looked a little worse off, with his clothes were ripped stained with blood and gray green ichor. He wielded his short sword in a hand, as he leaned against Debrika. Finally, I got a good look at Taryn’s face.

“You’re blind, aren’t you?” I said, motioning Debrika to follow me, while Mobad looked around us for trouble.

“Debrika has seen this before; Eye rot wasn’t it?” he said looking in my direction at the sound of my voice as she grunted the affirmative. His eyes were shut, and crusted with scabs, and his face stained with bloody tears. I looked at Debrika and saw she too had dried blood around her eyes, but she was squinting trying to see.

"You tried to cure it I’m guessing, and it keeps coming back?” I guessed, as we entered our camp.

“Yes,” Debrika muttered angrily. “My prayers do not keep it far from us. But I needed to stop curing Taryn so we could make progress.”

We entered the hunting blind, and Debrika guided Taryn to spot on the ground, before she knelt down in an angry huff. Taryn then continued, “I take it that the Tannoch Ranch was crawling with little moldy things as well?”

“Yes,” The Blade replied. “We reached the ranch, and below it found that it concealed a network of caverns full of the Vegepygmies—”

“—Vegepygmies? That’s what you called them?”

“They are known in the Eldeen Reaches,” Rosa explained.

“What in the Sovereign are they…nevermind continue please.” Taryn said as he listened intently.

“We found below a druid that had been concocting a plague based on eye rot. But this one is more powerful, and even affects warforged,” Sage continued.

“I think you skipped the part about burning my house down?” Adrissa said pointedly.

“I know that voice…” Taryn said. “That’s…that’s the daughter…Adreesa?”

“A-dree-sa,” the girl said slowly.

“Yes…did your family—”

“No,” said Bookshelf. “No one else was alive.”

Taryn shook his head, “I’m sorry to hear that. My condolences Adrissa. Well…alright. Why? What’s going on?”

“Well, let me read some things from the druid’s journal. Perhaps it would explain some of this:”



> Barrakas 27th, 997 YK
> 
> It’s rare that I get to sit down and write my thoughts down. Ever since my introduction to Morrigon, it has been a flurry of planning and work. His discovery, his plan, his leadership is what we have needed to bring the fullness of time, in not some distant season. But now!
> 
> And he has entrusted me with a mission. To make a weapon out of the affliction known as “Eye Rot.” An ancient malady, but one that needs some help becoming virulent. My experience in the Gloaming tells me it can be improved, as much as the Valdis cattle have been.
> 
> He has put me in charge of a warren, one of many, deep beneath a ranch. A perfect place to find specimens to test on.
> 
> 
> 
> Rhaan 2nd,
> 
> House Cannith continues to provide unwitting assistance. First to Morrigon, and now to me. A group heading north were ambushed. After their interrogation by Morrigon, they have been given to me to perfect my work. These test subjects are timely as I am about to start the breeding process for the rot.
> 
> 4 Human Males
> 
> 3 Human Females
> 
> 1 Dwarf Male
> 
> In the meantime, the Vegepygmies are…adequate servants. Not bright, but they don’t bicker. Actually, they barely talk. They gather stragglers and some livestock for more reproduction use. Based on the time tables, we should have enough at the four locations to start the march.
> 
> Now it is up to me.
> 
> 
> 
> Sypheros, 19th,
> 
> Finally, some progress! This problem quickly turned to several. The first was increasing the infectious nature of Eye Rot, which led to the immediate problem of not infecting myself. Every improvement does require a new cure for the loyal. Everything must go step by step. So, more tagent oil and more morning glyss. A lot of it is needed. I will need to have the pygmies from other warrens fetch me the gloss. The only close source of the oil was the Jorasco station, but that has been already emptied. Another trip to Cattbron will be needed.
> 
> I have increased its infectious nature already. Contact is no longer needed; just being in the area of an infected animal matter is enough. I have an array of subjects to work with:
> 
> 3 Human Males
> 
> 2 Human Females
> 
> 2 Shifter Females
> 
> 1 Shifter Male
> 
> 1 Dwarf Male
> 
> 1 Warforged
> 
> This last one will be a significant challenge; they aren’t normally infected by disease at all. However, while they are described as living constructs, one thing I am certain is that magical infusion of the disease may be able to do the trick. We shall see!
> 
> 
> 
> Vult 3rd,
> 
> Yes! A solution! The concept of eye rot directly affecting Warforged was folly. But I had an idea, which after quick journey to the Mournland, I had my prize. The Rot has been fused with a living blindness spell. Via some creative uses of some curses the rot is in essence a spell. This means that it will require magic to cure it, but that will be only temporary. The living rot itself will be strengthen to resist being cured itself causing continual reinfection via magic. I look forward to seeing everything come together.
> 
> 
> 
> Zarantyr 7th,
> 
> The project has at last entered its final stage, finally perfection. All that remains is to test my beauty on the remaining subjects and ensure its resilience. The subjects to receive her gift are:
> 
> 1 Shifter Male
> 
> 2 Human Males
> 
> 1 Human Female
> 
> 1 Elf Male
> 
> 1 Dwarf Female
> 
> 1 Warforged
> 
> After some time to get acclimated to her effects and some simple tests of my creation’s tenacity they will be recycled.
> 
> The Pygmy forces are now using larger stock, to create larger forms. After creation they have been sleeping in the warrens, conserving energy and waiting for the call. It is exciting to see it finally start. Winter truly will be here!
> 
> 
> 
> Olarune 8th,
> 
> EVERYTHING WAS SO CLOSE! We were ready to start! Ready to begin! My beautiful creation took hold quickly and no magic could keep it at bay, but then disaster! I had reported success to Morrigon, and the call had come to prepare. But then ill luck; someone noticed that the cattle was missing and sent Blademarks. This was expected; once the call was made, we were to capture them, any remaining travelers, ranchers, and failing that kill them. So, we found five poking in the barn above, and we caught them. Fortunately, (I’m not so sure now) I decided to have my servant try the newest batch on the survivors and see if there were any mishaps. And of course, there was one.
> 
> Of the Five, two the survivors of them were Gold Blademarks. Solid testing material: battle hardened. But their fortitude was tested, and they failed. Plus, the pygmies couldn’t make a mistake. But the fifth one *refused* to submit. She was a…surprise. When I examined her myself, it made sense…in a way. She wasn’t really a human. She was infused with planar energy, although I am not clear on what plane. Her eyes were similar to an eladrin or tiefling in look. But she resists. I must find out why! I cannot risk resistance in any subjects.
> 
> 
> 
> Olarune 10th,
> 
> She tests me. Impossible it was said, for my creation to conquer the warforged. Yet I had done so. Shifters, dwarves, everyone else weeps blood within an hour. I have conquered everything that once stood in the way of our glorious progress...except for HER, SHE still refuses to bow, refuses to break and succumb, SHE merely insults me with HER mockery of Common. But SHE won't be mocking for long, let ME have her laugh, soon SHE'll see...or rather, won't. When even HER resistance falls, nothing will be able to stop us.
> 
> But I must solve this problem quickly! The call to march to Denning and Salenhold has been sounded and our warren must join them. Once we feel the tremors, we will know that that the autumn is ending, and winter has arrived.
> 
> 
> 
> Olarune 12th,
> 
> Finally! Understanding! She is impacted, but it will simply take longer. She isn’t immune at all, but instead is very resistant to disease in general. But now that the rot has started to set within her eyes, she now cannot escape. She was an interesting subject, a challenge. But she will now be recycled just like all the others.
> 
> I have done it. There will be no stopping Children of Winter now!





“Children of Winter?” Debrika asked. “Aren’t they just insane druids?”

“Well…not insane,” Rosa said wincing. “But they are…passionate on how the world would be a better place after a ‘freeze.’”

“And they create a magical disease to blind people? Why? And who is this Morrigon?” Taryn asked.

“I would like to know the same thing,” Doxx said pointedly. “Didn’t this druid imply you know them, Rosa?”

Rosa looked down and sighed, “I honestly don’t know what she was talking about. But I have heard the name Morrigon. He was a Child of Winter…but a moderate one. But he left the Eldeen years ago. I never met him!

“I don’t see how a bunch of walking mold is going to defeat the Karnn’s warlords. Not without…oh…that’s it. The Eyerot! A blind army is practically useless.” Taryn said glumly.

“Well…depending on how big that wall of thorns is, it might not matter,” Sage pointed out.

“A what?” Taryrn and Debrika said together.

“There is a wall that…grew and looks to be encircling a large area up here.” Sage said. “But we don’t know how big it is, just that it reachs the low cloud, and its northern border is a mile or so away from the Tannoch ranch. So, Denning might be cut off from us. We don’t know.”

“Didn’t I hear right that there is a cure though,” I asked.

Rosa nodded, “Yes. Mixing part of Taget oil and morning glys. The same components are used in the standard treatment, but there is a distillation step that is new, to concentrate it. Which reminds me…I have a dose left. Who should I—”

“—Debrika.” Taryn said firmly. “If there is fighting, she at least can heal and help the wounded. I can fight, but I can’t aid people in the same way. Her sight is more valuable than mine.”

Debrika opened her mouth to argue and then closed it. She nodded at the truth, and she wiped some of the blood from her eyes. Rosa, moved to the Mror and took the last vial and uncorked it, and poured the contents in each of Debrika eyes. Immediately she began to seethe and swear.

“By Dol Arrah’s light that hurts!”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed. “We’re what two days away from Denning?”

“No…less really, if you avoid the road.” Adrissa said. “The road is great for wagons, but it swings a bit out of the way. We can get there by just after nightfall tomorrow if we get some sleep and we cut across country.”

“I would feel better inside some walls, than outside.” Doxx said grimly. “And she does seem to know the way, so the faster we can get her to town, the better.”

Adrissa glared at the old woman, as Bookshelf spoke. “You can get some rest, we can watch through the night,” they said nodding at the juggernaut.

“The quicker, the better.” Mobad said, and he sat down on the ground, leaned up against a tree and folded his arms and started to drift off. The others started to pull out their bedrolls and prepared to sleep. It was strange to look at the warforged though and see them standing, and ready for anything. I wondered how they spent the time not sleeping…not dreaming. A question for another time.

As I set out my bedroll and laid down upon it, I looked and saw that Adrissa was looking at me intently. I figured it was best to have the talk now, and so I waved her over. She looked around nervously? Guiltily? I wasn’t sure, but she took her bedroll and set it out next to mine, as I talked to her.

“So…you have a…question?” I asked.

She looked at me and struggled to find the words for a moment. Finally, she blurted, “So you are an angel….so you have seen…gods?”

I sighed, “I am an angels’ daughter…but I am not one. I’ll live a while and die like anyone else. And then, and only then might I meet my god. And I have never met a god…or even my own father.” I said as I stroked her hair.

“Why did he leave you?” she asked confused.

I looked at her and shook my head, “I…don’t know. I think he wants me to travel, and learn, and help others but…I chart my own way I guess,” As I continued to stroke her hair, I focused on one of my light strands and focused cleaning her dirty smudged face. She could feel me doing something, and I stopped a moment, and pulled the small mirror out of my pouch and let her hold it and watch me clean her face. As I did so she asked another question.

“So…are gods real?” She asked.

“I believe they are.”

“Even if you never see them?”

“Yes. It’s called faith for a reason.”

“But why…why do they make bad things happen to us?” she asked, with some tears in her eyes.

“They don’t make bad things happen. Some things are bad luck, and sometimes bad people do things. But the god I believe in…he teaches us how to live and keep death away. Sometimes I can do that, and sometimes I help those who…need help facing death.”

“So…you worship the Sovereign Host right?”

I shook my head, “No…I had never heard of them before I came to Eberron, and I expect the gods I know the names to are unfamiliar to you as well. But I,” and I took my holy symbol into my hand and held it out for her to see the scales held aloft by the skeletal hand, “I am a priestess to a god named Kelemvor, and he…he is kind god, with a hard job.”

“How?”

“Well…he’s a god of death,” to which she recoiled for a moment. “But unlike the one here…the Keeper? He wants everyone to live as long as they can. He can wait, he’s not in a rush to steal souls. And even when someone does die, they pass through his home only for a moment before going to their final resting place, wherever that may be.”

“Oh,” she said. “Do you want to meet him?”

I scrunched up my face, “I almost have…twice now I guess,” thinking back to when I was stabbed in the chest with the spear. “But he seems to think I have work to do still. So, I help others how I can. Like girls like you.” And I poked her on the tip of her nose, and she giggled. Then then became serious again and asked.

“Does death hurt?”

I frowned and shook my head. “Dying can. And living is hard at times but dying too soon is a hard thing.”

She nodded, “I hope it wasn’t hard for my…dad and mom.”

I grimaced, “I’m sure while they miss you, for them it will be a short time waiting. But until then, they will want the best for you. So, you need to remember them and put everything you remember about them to good use. They don’t want to be forgotten; the memories you have of them are partially what makes you, you.”

“That’s easy for you to say…you have a father.”

“One that gave me up to an orphanage in the worst slum in city?”

“Really? Why?”

“A great question. Perhaps I’ll ask him when I meet him. No idea about my mother though. So…at least you had your parents; a home, and memories of good times. I…can’t say I had those kinds of memories.”

“And you still believe in your god?”

“I do. and I have seen a lot that makes me ask questions. But I still have faith in my god. Which is why I help people where I can, so they can find their own.”

“Do…you pray?”

“Every night. Usually to myself.”

“Can…can I pray with you?”

I was taken aback. Most people want a blessing because I am an Aasimar, or they needed help with their own issues of death. But while I had said prayers, I never had anyone ask to pray with me before.

“Sure…just listen and repeat what I say,” and I closed my eyes and started:

“Death is part of Life, not an ending but a beginning.

“Death is without deceit and has meaning.

“I will strive to help those to live,

“So, they can die at their appointed time.

“I will honor those who have died before me,

“For it is their lives and deeds that give us the world today.

“Bless me to live until my appointed time,

“So, my deeds will live forever.

“So be the will of my Lord, and my desire in faith.

“May Death grant us peace.



I heard Adrissa whisper the last words, and she looked at me again, and whispered, “Thank you.” She then lay down in her bedroll and turned around facing away. I then reached out my arm, and pulled her a little closer, and as I expected she clung tightly to me.

As I lay there, hoping my nightmares would stay away for the night, I caught the glance of the orc, as he sat there. He nodded subtly with approval and returned to dozing where he sat. I then smiled, and relaxed and let myself drift off to sleep.

_____

I was blessed to have dreamt of nothing that I could remember. I was afraid of waking in a cold sweat screaming. I didn’t think Adrissa needed to hear that from someone she was trying to find comfort in. I needed to show her some strength, so she could find her own again.

It wasn’t even light when we started to pack up camp. Rosa handed out more berries to eat, and it still tasted like the Seven Heavens to me. I may have grown up an orphan, but I will say the Bleakers did their best to keep us from going hungry. Being hung in that cage with only the barest minimum gave me perspective that I didn’t want to repeat again. The group was tired still, their faces all looking grim. Adrissa was eager to get moving, and since no one was really interested in talking, we started making our way through the woods.

Taryn, despite his blindness had a fine sense of balance and was easily led. And with Debrika now no longer fighting the eye rot, she was able to guide him easily. This allowed us to make good time. Gossamer of course, stayed high in the trees, keeping an eye out for vegepygmies. As we were travelling in the dim light of the day, we kept quiet, not wanting to attract more enemies.

By midday we were tired. Adrissa found us a place to rest by a small brook. It had been getting warmer, and my body felt drenched in sweat. Above us the clouds roiled and churned, looking ready to soak us, but they didn’t. When we stopped, I decided to do something useful…

_--You want me to do what?

I want you to fly to the south west, as far and fast as you can. Don’t get spotted, by anything and I’ll summon you back when we are ready to leave.

--This is about that reward talk isn’t it.

No…it’s seeing if the Vegepygmies are on the road anywhere that direction. Then .

--Well…as dumb as they look, I’m pretty sure I can avoid them.

Well…unless they can fly.

 -Hah right…wait. You don’t think tha—

Gos! Get going._

So I sat on the ground and used a piece of cloth I had, and used it to wipe off the sweat from my skin, and then used a strand to clean it, and then cool it down. As I sat there, I felt the tugging again. The Blade sat nearby and was checking over some of his arrows, and I was about to ask him, when I was asked a question.

“So…how much time did you spend with Melissandre?” Doxx asked me in a low voice as she sat down next to me.

Looking around, I realized that Taryn and Debrika weren’t in immediate earshot, and it was clear that Doxx was not trying to get anyone else attention. I sighed, “I had a nice dinner with her on the lightning rail to Cattbron. After we arrived, I didn’t stay in town long and we didn’t talk again. Why?”

The old woman looked at me and frowned, “How did she find you?”

“She arranged for some evidence to be discovered, that proved I wasn’t a spy and that a dwarf was bobbing the town of Krona Peak.”

“Bobbing?”

“Oh…right. Pulling a con. Basically pocketing extra money they shouldn’t have. Anyway, after I was released, I got a letter instructing me to get to lightning rail…and here I am. Now for the second time, why?”

“I am suspecting that she knew more than she was telling. She knew far more about me than I found…comfortable. But I think there is more to it than that.”

“You think she knew something was going to happen here?”

She nodded. “She seemed to know that Blademarks weren’t going to be enough to find cows. So, she had us sent as well.”

I sighed, “Ok...I admit that makes some sense. But that could just be dumb luck.”

“I don’t think so. We were hauled in from the Eldeen, Sharn, and Thrane…. these aren’t close places. She could have found someone, anyone from Karnnath that was closer., plenty of skilled people ready for work around here. So why us?

I could only shrug, “I don’t know. Its not like she told me anything. That damn contract had nothing about this specially, and it had a lot on the gold mine.”

“So you think that’s real?”

“That I am certain off…it was all the talk in Krona.”

“I guess that will have to do,” She frowned, and was about to get up when I stopped her.

“I’ve humored you, will you humor me?”

“Wait do you mean,” she asked suspiciously.

“You are a changeling. What is one?” I asked.

“We…are a race that lives in the shadows of others. We can change our shape to what we want. But people are suspicious of us because of that, so we don’t usually go around showing off that we can do it.”

“So you can become anything?”

“Anyone, any race, any gender—”

“—you can change all of that?” I said even more curious. “What do you look like normally?”

Doxx looked at me, and then I saw the lines of her face fade away. Her skin lost color and became more grey, and her nose indistinct. Her eyes appeared more of a solid white, and her hair receded in length, and it stayed white in color, and not a frazzled grey. As I looked her face even appeared to be more masculine. I couldn’t help myself and I reached out and touched this new face. Doxx didn’t recoil but instead asked “Are there none of us where you come from?”

“No,” I said still amazed. “There are many that can use illusion, and some fiends that can do this. But I have never known anyone of them personally. But I am curious about how it feels…to be someone else.”

Doxx looked at me and shrugged, “Some are more into that aspect than others. Its just a tool for me.”

At this point the large warforged Sage interrupted us, “We should be moving again.”

“Right,” and I focused and cast a light strand in the direction that Gossamer flew, and with a pull, returned him to me.

_What did you see.

--They don’t fly, and they are dumb in the sense that if you are an animal, they ignore you.

Gos…

--Well they are on the roadway and they have essentially blocked it. But they had stopped a while ago and had cut down trees. Not sure why, I didn’t see any logs or fires nearby, just stripped branches. Fresh from the smell. A lot of them are milling about.

How far? 

--Maybe a league or two? I could just see the town. But one thing; there are a lot of them.

We knew that.

--No…remember the caverns and how they looked like they could hold a huge number? This looks to be four times that._

“Oh sodding,” I said aloud.

“What?” Sage asked.

“They’ve reached the town, and there are a lot more than that single complex had.”

“The journal did say there were other warrens,” Rosa pointed out.

“They’ve been chopping down trees and stripping branches though.”

Sage and Bookshelf looked at each other and at Doxx. “They can’t be.” Bookshelf said.

“Can’t be what?” Adrissa asked concerned.

Sage then said, “That’s what an army does when they are going to start a siege. We’re too late.”

*Session notes:*
There was a lot of character exploration here between Myrai and other other players, so the fish out of water story continues.  But Doxx continued their obsession with Melisandre, and Adrissa (and yes I had to do 101 name correction to fix the spelling) was becoming a full fledged ranger...if short.


----------



## Wilpower784

The quiet character moments are easily my favorite parts of your writing. Really enjoyed this one.


----------



## Nthal

Vegepygmies at the Gates - (6/13/2021)​

“No!” I said, my heart quickening in panic. “We can’t be…we can’t let them—”

“Myrai, how was the army arranged?” Sage asked me. I turned to look at Gossamer who quickly spoke to me in my head.

--_Well there are like five groups north of the walls. They seem to have something made of wood there. There is a group by the gate leading in. But the rest of the army is on the road. They aren’t close to the five group or the town gates. They’re hanging back._

I relayed what Gossamer said word for word, as Bookshelf and Sage looked at each other confused.

“They have enough numbers to overwhelm the town, but they are hanging back?” Bookshelf said confused. “Its like they are planning to starve them out.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Sage said pondering. “They could escape out the south gate easily. Did the familiar see anything around Denning?” Sage asked me.

“His name is Gossamer, and he can understand you fine.”

--_Well, I saw some smoke from some open fires on the roofs. I saw them launching pots that landed in town, but most of the pots weren’t on fire or anything.”_

Repeating what Gossamer said didn’t seem to clear up the warforged puzzlement. But then Doxx interjected. “So why don’t we see what they are hurling into the town. They aren’t trying very hard to burn it.”

“Lead the way,” Mobad said standing, gripping his great axe in both hands.

---

Adrissa led us through the thick woods, following concealed deer trails in the foliage. I was frustrated that we couldn’t move faster, but while Taryn wasn’t stumbling around with Debrika’s help, we couldn’t rush through the woods. I could only hope that we would have some answers. The branches and leaves slapped my face as we moved until finally we started to climb a hillock. After some effort, we crested it, and found ourselves in view of the town.

Denning wasn’t on fire, or really at risk of burning. I had seen worse in the Hive, where fires set had ravaged the slums. This was just spotty fires here and there. As I looked closer to us, I realized that right at the base of the hill was a catapult and crew. There were two large and four vegepygmies. The large ones were occupied with moving clay pots onto the makeshift siege weapon and winding up the tension to fling another pot into the town. The four small ones seemed to be in charge directing the big ones to ‘aim’ them and reload catapults.

_Hey Goss, go fly out and see what the army is doing. Come back if it starts moving.

--Great. You will pull me back right before you leave?”

I will! Get going._

The tressym flew off towards the east. Sage then tapped Mobad on the shoulder and then pointed himself and then one of the large ones, and then the other one, and toward Mobad. The orc nodded and grinned, while The Blade notched an arrow, and Doxx gripped her staff. Adrissa seemed torn for a moment, and she decided to pull out her short bow. Debrika sat Taryn down, and looked at myself, Bookshelf and Rosa. Rosa and I waved her on, and she looked at the others and nodded.

Sage isn’t silent. Not by any stretch of the imagination. And the sight of him charging into the vegepygmies must have been alarming to normal people. But if that was terrifying, him being flanked by Debrika with her hammer, and then the bare-chested orc bellowing as he charged into the fray should have been terrifying.

But these things weren’t people. They turned and stared and seemed to let the trio just crash into the group. Sage’s fiery sword quickly cut into the large one, and fire spread to the other. Mobad just hacked at his, carving large grey chunks off of his foe. Debrika swung and smashed into a smaller one at the same time that Doxx whirled her staff around, striking all four of the pygmies. The Blade and Adrissa then shot into the throng, their arrows finding marks and taking down two more vegepygmies. Then, Bookshelf pointed a finger, and I watched frost spread and covering the figure freezing it in place. I then grimaced and I with a momentary thought, I cast a dark strand out and around a pair of small ones, and the ghostly hands gripped them, causing two of them to fall. The large warriors kept up their attacks, and in moments it was over.

But it was strange. There were the sound of weapons on wet moldy flesh,of torches sputtering around the catapult, bodies hitting the ground, and the sizzling noises of seared flesh of fallen. But there was no screams of pain, pleading for mercy. Nothing; they just took the blows, and weakly attempted to fight back, but seemed almost half-hearted. The whole scene was unnerving to me.

I had taken Taryn by the hand and was leading him down to the catapult as the remaining sunlight started to fade. The Mror, orc and warforged, were keeping watch as the rest of us scrambled down.

“The other catapults aren’t reacting to us,” Sage noted as he peered into the distance. “They are either focused, or just aren’t observant.”

“They follow orders,” I said as I approached. “Independent thought isn’t a strong point.”

“Wonderful, so who told them to make catapults?” Doxx complained.

“Morrigon must have others helping him…helping guide them,” Rosa said bitterly. “Maybe he brought a circle of druids from the Eldeen.”

“Don’t druids frown on …chopping trees down for siege weapons?” Bookshelf asked.

“Yes…even the Children of Winter don’t just cull trees. But…if they are trying to end everything, they might see it as a noble sacrifice. I…I…just don’t know.”

The Blade stood on part of the catapult looking around, his bow drawn. Adrissa was about to step up for a better view, when I saw her pause. She looked down at a line of clay pots, and she jumped down and looked at them closely. Sitting Taryn down near Debrika, I moved over to see what had attracted her attention.

There was a half-dozen pots, divided into three different sets. Each set had a different shape at the top. The first set of pots were small and I had a firm idea contained a type of pitch. The smell and the rag leading out of the top of the round hole seemed obvious to me. The next set had a five-sided opening on the top, and some lids nearby that could be used to seal them. But I glanced down, and I could see a blue liquid inside. I knew that liquid well, as it was poured into my eyes as part of the experimentation. But the third set had square openings and it was these that had Adrissa’s focus.

“What did you find Adr—” I started.

“—Something moved in there.” She said her voice quavering.

That got everyone’s attention. The Blade, who had the highest vantage, aimed his bow down at the pot. “I saw motion. But I don’t have a clear view of what it is.”

We looked at each other, unsure how to proceed, when a great axe came smashing down on the pot. The orc had no patience for the tension or the mystery, his face scrunched in frustration at our inaction. The clay fell away, and inside, cleaved into twain was a sickly yellow plant, with a bright yellow flower. As I stared at it, I saw it quiver and thrash a moment. Green sap leaked out on the pottery fragments and covered Mobad’s axe and it was then I smelled the strong odor of musk.

“That is bad,” The Blade said.

“Your talent for understatement is—” Doxx began.

“—You needed worry; my statements are as accurate as my archery,”

Doxx glared at him, while I knelt down and looked closer at the strange flower. “I don’t understand what the concern is.”

“You didn’t see these at the ranch dear?” Rosa asked.

“No…we saw some figures entering the barn and headed straight into a trap. I don’t recall seeing them in the barn, or below.”

“That,” spat Doxx, “turned a number of the Ranch hands into slaves.”

Adrissa growled, and she started to smash the other pots. She broke apart each one and cut and slashed each of the plants within. Her face was knot of fury and anger as she hacked with her sword and hand axe. I stepped forward a moment to stop her, when Bookshelf stood next to her, and with a finger froze each flower with a cold beam of light. Adrissa didn’t notice at first, but when she broke open the last pot and saw the light, she turned and looked at Bookshelf in confusion. Her mouth opened and closed like she was going to say something but was uncertain what. But Bookshelf responded with, “I saw what they did to them. They were why I burned the house down. Sorry.”

Adrissa stood there and nodded quietly, and then turned to the town, and asked the question on our minds. “How many did they send into town?”

“How would they know they are there, if they are blind,” Rosa asked.

“What do you mean? I can’t see what the problem is.” Taryn asked sounding fustrated.

“Pots of pitch, the stuff that spreads eyerot, and pots with a cutting of a creeper,” Rosa replied.

“But why launch pitch at all?” Doxx asked. “I mean wouldn’t it just hamper taking the town?”

“There aren’t enough catapults or pitch here to burn down a part of the town,” Sage remarked. “Even with the other catapults. This pitch is a slow burning annoyance; it isn’t the explosive material that Cannith made during the war.

“It’s bait,” I said as the others turned to look at me. “You sent a pot with the fire, attracting the townsfolk to put it out. And then—”

“Of course, you follow up with a pot to blind the fire fighters.” Doxx said slapping her forehead.

“And then the creepers to land and find places in the town to hide; now that they can’t be seen.” Bookshelf finished.

“They aren’t that smart, are they?” Debrika asked, her voice sarcastic and incredulous.

“No,” I agreed. “But they do follow directions. This is someone else’s idea.”

“So, what do we do?” Sage asked. “We can take down the other catapults. Stop the spreading of eyerot from getting worse.”

“There is also the matter of them breaking open the gates,” Bookshelf pointed out.

The Blade jumped down and looked at the ground. “This appears to be the last of their stores. I think they already sent over the walls…a dozen sets.”

“The door is more important.” Doxx said. “They have plenty of trees and can build more catapults and crew them. But if the gate is breached, it will be hard to hold.”

“Strategically that makes sense,” Bookshelf agreed.

“Take the catapults and smash them.” Mobad voiced.

--_uh boss?_

“Mobad is right! We can’t let them just launch more into the town!” Rosa exclaimed.

_Need a moment Goss._

“The gate is more important to keeping the citizens alive.” The Blade said confidently.

--_Boss!_

“Do I get to voice an opinion?” Adrissa asked.

“No.” “No.” “Yes dear.” “You should!” “No shush child—"

_This is a bad—

--The army is coming!”_

“Sodding…STOP!” I yelled louder than I intended. Everyone stared at me. I raised my hands up and said, “We have a problem. The army is moving.”

Everyone turned their heads and looked at each other in turn. And like they all shared a single purpose and thought, they all said the same thing:

“Gate!”

---------


We ran as fast as we could which was surprising considering that Taryn couldn’t see a thing. Despite he being blind, Taryn had superb balance, and was easily guided by Debrika and I as we all headed for the gates. Gossamer didn’t have a firm grip on how fast they were moving, but the last thing we wanted was to be caught outside the gate, and on the wrong side of the river. But as we closed the distance, we knew this was going to be more challenging, because someone got creative.

Two of the large vegepygmies were at the gate. The pair were using a log, and together kept ramming it into the door. But they weren’t alone. On both of the large ones, they wore what could be best called a platform. It looked like they had stuck their head through a side of a crate and now wore it like an outlandish ruff around the neck. But on each of these slabs of wood, stood four of the vegepygmies, and these were armed with shortbows. Complicating this was the fact that there were small palisades of wood allowing the pygmies to hide behind them.

The Blade started to shoot has he ran, not even stopping to get precise aim. But his shots sank into the wooden palisade. The pygmies weren’t great shots either though, as arrows rained around us with only Mobad and Bookshelf taking grazing hits.
“Anyone have a plan?” Doxx yelled as we were closing the distance. The Blade had range, but even his longbow couldn’t penetrate the cover they hid behind. Adrissa’s bow was no better than the Pygmies, and Mobad likely would have little luck with his Javelins. But as we continued Bookshelf spoke up.

“I have one. Wait for my signal and then charge in. Don’t get closer than ten paces.”

“Follow me, and when I stop, get behind me!” Sage yelled. The lumbering juggernaut ran and put himself in between the group and the vege-brutes. Suddenly, he dropped to a knee and wedged his shield into the earth and he then ducked his body down behind it. The rest of us followed and hid behind his bulky form. As I watched arrows struck his shield weakly, I saw something more interesting. Some of the arrows seemed to stop in the air and tumbled to the ground. As I watched I realized they were striking some kind of barrier, but I didn’t see or feel any part of the weave being manipulated. All I did see was a yellow crystal on Sage’s left forearm pulse with light as the arrows struck nothing in the air.

I didn’t really have time for questions, as Bookshelf hid low behind Sage’s bulk. From him I could feel a large spell being pulled from the fabric of the weave. And then he stood up and pointed, and a bead of light flew from his hand and streaked towards the group. Instantly the air erupted in flames, and I felt the hot breeze blow back in our direction. I stood up and saw that the large vege-brutes were set ablaze. They beat themselves gamely, trying to put out the burning patches on their hides. But my heart sank as I watched the little ones stand up and started to ready a volley.

Mobad didn’t wait as he charged in, followed by Debrika and Doxx. He quickly hacked at the hulking brute, once again chopping chunks of grey plant-like matter away, while Debrika took a more impactful approach. She slammed her hammer into one of them, and I could feel something tug at me. It wasn’t magic, or at least not the Weave. It pulled at my heart and I could see a flash as her two-handed hammer shimmered with white light. I was awestruck at the sensation, and I watched the vege-brute shuddering at the impact. Doxx clapped her hands together and then suddenly her hands and legs were ablaze. It seemed that the flames leapt from her and seared her foes as she kicked and punched around them, without being close enough to be pounded by their fists.

Sage then stood and clanged his armblade to his shield and thundered his way into the fray with a gout of green flame igniting his blade. As he approached the arrows from the vegepygmies bounced off his shield and skin. He drew all of their attention as he swung and cut deeply into his foe, and his flames spread to the other one. Both of the large monstrosities swung and tried to pound the warforged, but the juggernaut would not be stopped. If he noticed the blows, he said nothing and kept igniting his blade.

As the group fought it was clear that these vege-brutes were much hardier, and more dangerous than others of their kin. One of them twisted and extruded a wet grey pseudopod and swung it in a great arc. Mobad, Debrika and Sage all were struck, and fell to the ground, while Doxx was able to avoid any the impact at all. As they lay there, the archers on the platforms tried to pin the three down; Sage simply stood seemed unconcerned, while both Mobad and Debrika were pierced with arrows. But both regained their footing, with Mobad bellowing a ferocious yell while Debrika shouted “Vann kalt ko-krun!” in the Mror language. But the second one was fixated at the agile old woman, and it too extruded a wet pseudopod. It whipped it overhead and slammed it down, striking Doxx squarely on the head and shoulders. Doxx staggered and fell unconscious onto the earth.

Rosa was busy as I watched her cast a spell and created what appeared to be a glowing white yellow tree. But the ghostly tree walked and stood over Mobad and I could see his wounds close. While she did this, she waved her hand, and I could see a shower of golden motes float down on the unmoving Doxx. Her teeth were clenched as she focused moving the tree from person to person and the worry on her face was evident. Next to her the Blade changed his focus to hit the large ones, since the small vegepygmies hid behind their wooden cover. Meanwhile Adrissa was following The Blades lead. From our vantage points we could see the vege-brutes do the same thing again, with one sweeping the field and knocking people down and the second slamming whoever fell. Even Sage Redoubt was unable to stay upright during the assault.

Suddenly I heard next to me, Adrissa cursing something I couldn’t quite hear. Glancing at her I saw that she had thrown down her bow and it was obvious why; her quiver was emptied. She was about to run into the melee when Bookshelf gripped her on the shoulder.
“Wait, don’t.” the slender warforged said forcefully.

“Let me go!” Adrissa retorted, trying to break free of the warforged metal grip.
“I can’t protect you from the fire. Please…Adrissa.” Bookshelf said softly. Adrissa stopped and looked at Bookshelf confused for a moment. Then Bookshelf turned and flung a second bead into the throng.

“No Bookshelf, wai—” I started when the flames enveloped everything in view. The vegepygmies, the vege-brutes, and Sage, Debrika, Doxx, and Mobad. But as I stood there and watched the flames fade away for the second time, I saw something. It was like the fire was not…well fire. It looked like there were pockets or bubbles of fiery water that the four stood in, seemly untouched by the flames. I then turned to look at Bookshelf and Adrissa.
“Now go,” Bookshelf said, and Adrissa needed no other encouragement. She flew into the pack and flung herself at the vege-brutes and started to slice them with her sword, and hack with her hatchet. As I watched her, I saw her face and it sent a chill down my spine. Her raw emotions on display on her face, and it was one of pure rapture. She was reveling in the violence, as she hewed fibers and flesh away from her hated foes.

My knees shook, as I saw her. The expression, the unbridled joy as she whirled and cut. Her brown hair whipping around her wildly, as part of the cyclone of destruction. A face and look shared by someone else I knew and feared. And hated. Because there before me I saw embodiment of destruction. A spitting image of the Factol of the Sinkers. The woman who killed my dear Elisna in front of me in the streets of Sigil.

“No No nonono, I won’t let you become like *her,” I* said aloud. And as I watched, I saw the pair of vege-brutes turn, sensing opportunity. Somehow, they knew that an easy kill approached.

Growling to myself, I ran forward and yelled at the group. “Get back! Protect Adrissa!” I started to pull on a light and a dark strand and started to weave them together. Sage turned to look at me in confusion. The pair of brutes and their platforms were still intact, the vege-pygmies still shooting at the seemingly invulnerable juggernaut. But as he saw me, it was clear he knew I was up to something. He backed up his bulk to push Adrissa backwards, while Debrika assisted a dazed and staggered Doxx.

I gripped my rod tightly and then threw the loop of the braided strands around all of the vege-things and pulled them taut until it snapped. The air exploded with the sound of wood shattering into splinters. The vege-brutes were now pierced with huge splinters. The little ones found themselves falling to the earth, most of them landing with a solid wet thud, and remained there unmoving. Several stood up awkwardly in a daze, only to find themselves pierced by The Blades arrows.

But the two brutes still stood, and they turned their attention to me. They both sweeped again, trying to knock me down but I was fast enough to avoid one, which led to me being smashed by the second bowling me over. I tasted blood on my lips as I stood glaring at the pair.

“I don’t have to play fair either,” I said. I pulled together two dark strands and wove them around me. After tying them off I let loose the strands and let them engulf me. To me, it was the brightest day. But to them, they looked around confused as darkness clouded their vision.

“What the? Where is she?” I heard Rosa yell behind me.

“Somewhere in that…darkness,” I heard Doxx say.

“Well I can’t see the pair now, so this doesn’t he—”

I then shifted moving towards the gate and letting the globe of darkness fall away from them.

“Much better,” and I heard a pair of twangs as he sunk more arrows into them. I saw a single ray of cold white light striking one. Sage stood again as the bulkwark he was and slashed with his blade, coated in fire. Doxx now rejoined the fight again with fists of fire, while Debrika smashed, and Mobad and Adrissa chopped into them. After they did so, I moved and covered the vege-brutes in darkness again and threw out dark strands, trying to choke the life from them. The sudden loss of vision caused them to turn and twist, looking for me. They tried to stagger out but Sage, Debrika and Mobad blocked their attempts to leave. After striking, I moved again revealing them, and all of my allies struck again.

As they clumsily tried to defend themselves, I covered them again. Using more dark strands I rended their lifeforce again. The stupid brutes staggered in the darkness, swinging around them wildly to no avail. And after they swung, I shifted myself and darkness revealing them again. Once again, the others charged in and finally both crashed down to the earth, unmoving.

I then cut loose the strands and let the darkness fall away. Adrissa looked at me in awe as I wiped the blood from my face, using a simple white strand. She ran up to me with a look of confusion.

“How…how…it was dark. I couldn’t see anything. Not them, not you.”

“The darkness doesn’t exist for me. But it does for others, and I take advantage of that.” I said as my breathing slowed from the exertions. I knelt down and looked at her. The battle lust was gone, and the almost innocent look had returned. “We should talk later about you charging into danger.”

“Why? I’m not old enou—”

“No,” I said shaking my head. “I can’t say this isn’t your fight; it is. But you can’t let it be all you are. We’ll talk later.”

Sage had moved to the gate and pounded on the wood shouting, “Open up!”

From the other side we heard a voice stammer, “No no no…not with those things pounding the gate. I can’t do that.”

“They dead,” Mobad stated. “Open. Now!”

“How do I know it isn’t a trick?” the voice questioned.

“Oh, come on!” Doxx exclaimed. “Wouldn’t they have started with tricking you before trying to smash the gate down?”

“I don’t know your voices! I’m not opening it!”

Adrissa then rolled her eyes and stomped to the gate and yelled. “Open the gate damn you Balen!”

“Wait…no…” we heard. Then a small panel slid open. There on the other side I saw the face of a child, looking us over. The boy settled their gaze on the girl and said, “Hi Adrissa.”

Adrissa blinked and replied, “Hey Jace. Can we come in?”

“It is her?” the voice behind the door said.

“Yeah pa,” the boy replied. The panel then closed, and I could hear some clamoring behind the gate. Finally, we heard the bar slide back, and one of the gate doors opened letting us through.

The gate was just that, a gate set into the wall, anchored to a low pair of towers. On one side was a small stone building, presumably where the gate guards stayed during their shift. There were four guards here, but the blood around the eyes told me everything I needed to know; they were all blind. But with them there were three children; the boy Jace, and a younger boy and a girl. They looked at Adrissa and were excited asking her questions about how she got there.

Adrissa was a little shocked at the and could barely answer the younger kids’ questions. As she stood there unclear on what to say, Rosa knelt down and looked at Jace’s eyes.

“He’s not infected,” she said confused. She then looked at the younger kids and gripped their heads a moment as she peered into their eyes. “Neither are these two.”

“You…you can see?” the guard, who I assumed was Balen asked.

“We have perfect vision, guardsman,” The Blade said confidently. “How are the rest of you.”

“We…don’t know,” Balen continued. It was strange, but as we helped with the fires, our eyes started to burn, and we went blind. We didn’t want to abandon the gate. But my kids came, and they have been our eyes. But I can scarcely believe what they are saying.”

“Why didn’t you send your kids to get help or—”

“Big mean dogs are running around streets,” Jace said. “They have weird people on their backs with spears,”

“How did they get in if the gate was closed?” Bookshelf asked.

“Saw some of them running on the wall and then down into the streets.” Jace replied, his eyes tearing. “We’re scared; we saw the dog…well…”

Rosa stroked the hair of Jace, “Shh…it’s alright. We’re here to help. Have you seen anyone else?”

Jace shook his head, “Not in a while. We saw other kids leading their parents to Drover’s Rest and—”

“Wait, leading? They can see?” Bookshelf said curiously. “Why can children see?”

Rosa thought a moment, “Gwen…she never mentioned children. Just adults. Perhaps she never tested any.”

I flexed a moment and with a strand pulled Gossamer to me.

--_GAH! I thought you forgot about me.

How were things out there?

--Well…the army is more of a horde and its moving to town, but it isn’t rushing with urgency._

“The rest of them are coming, but not a rush,” I told the others.

“They are waiting, they don’t need to take the town with force.” Sage said.

“Well…they’re just going to fling more crap over the walls. What are we supposed to—” Doxx started when he stopped. In the distance to the south was the sound of a large horn sounding four notes, one long and three short.

“We’ll I’ll be,” Doxx finished. The two warforged looked at each other and Bookshelf commented. “Military horn.”

“Karnnathi,” Sage said. “That’s an order signal. “But I only know the Aundarian signal codes.”

“But I do,” Doxx said. “That’s a command to open the gate; Someone wants in.”

*Session Notes:*
We can see that Adrissa and Bookshelf started to define their new relationship here.  There is a lot to the story, but I need to pry it out of my daughter, as most was done in a physical journal I don't have access to.  Myrai and Adrissa's relationship of course is complicated...a lot with Adrissa really hating shooting things with her bow.

With any large party it is hard to keep things focused on any pair of dyads.  Its also hard to get int a word in the dialog.   Makes it a mess to write at times too, and make sure everyone gets a moment in the sun.


----------



## Wilpower784

Definitely understand where you’re coming from with large parties. In the moment, it really is a challenge to try to get a good amount of dialogue in without completely stealing the show. That’s probably why I’m so drawn to quiet moments, because it allows for the characters (and in some cases, the readers too) to focus on specific elements that would otherwise be drowned out.


----------



## Nthal

Violence in the Streets - 7-14-2021​(Sorry for the delays, but IRL issue prevented a lot of time to work on prose.  A lot more coming soon though.)


“Great, let’s get it open.” I spoke. Mobad grinned in agreement.

“At this point any number of troops would be a help,” Doxx said. “And they can get word out for more once we tell them what’s going on.”

“What…what do we do?” Jace asked with the look of terror on his eyes.

“We can’t just leave them alone here,” Rosa said. “If there are more mounted vegepygmies, they could overrun everyone at the gate.

“Another problem; we still need to cross the river,” Bookshelf pointed out.

“The bridge is near the Inn, right?” Sage asked, and Jace nodded in response. “We head there and draw attention to ourselves. That will keep them focused on us, until we get the other groups inside the walls.”

“An excellent plan!” The Blade said. “Except what would draw a bunch of rotting vegetables together?”

“A fire would do it,” Sage said. “But one of Bookshelf’s would probably be a hazard.”

“That bad,” as Mobad pointed out the obvious.

“I have something that can grab their attention,” I said. “Let’s get to the Inn and the bridge.”

“We will!” Jace said proudly. The guards looked less enthusiastic and far more grim about it, but the determination in their faces showed they weren’t going to give up their homes.

We moved through the streets of Denning warily. Black smoke wafted from the rooftops partially obscuring the roadway and alleys. The fires on the roofs sputtered, but the recent damp weather kept the flames from spreading. But it was all a mask for the stinging we felt in our eyes, as the eyerot tried to spread further. I reflected that being blind, even in my home town, would be terrifying. And the muffled screams and wailing seemed to confirm my concerns. But we couldn’t look for survivors yet.

We passed by a large church that had been struck with multiple fire pots. Its steeple stood defiant as the flames sputtered on the roofline. One of the blazes caught a nine barred symbol high above the open doors afire, the gold and blue paint peeling. The smoke drifted down into the graveyard, partially submerging the headstones in a river of dark haze. It seemed off to me though that on one was here. And it saddened me that a proud symbol of faith was abandoned like it was.

“I would have expected more to fled to here,” I said aloud as we passed.

“The townsfolk would be at the Church of the Blood Sacrament not here,” Adrissa said quietly.

“Why there?” Bookshelf asked.

“It was built with a wall and gate,” Adrissa responded. “Not sure why.”

“Defensible then,” The Blade noted. “More than the common buildings.”

I nodded. The roadway turned and followed the river channel, and then turned passed the Valadis stables. Inside I could hear the shrilled neighing of terrified horses. We ignored them and entered the open square which the bridge and the ‘Drover’s Rest’ shared.

The square was full of shattered pots of fire, pots with wispy vapors, and pots with the remains of plants inside, each chopped into small pieces. But here we also found a number of men and women who had been stabbed, hacked and torn apart; signs of the vegepygmies and their mounts. But nothing lurked in the square now. I looked at the ‘Drover’s Rest’ and while the doors were shut, I couldn’t see anything in the windows with my sight. Looking at the bridge, it appeared unguarded as it crossed over the rushing waters.

“I was expecting…something,” Doxx said puzzle. “But there’s no vegepygmies, no townsfolk.”

“Perhaps they are barricaded inside buildings,” Sage remarked, turning his body warily expecting an attack.

The Blade moved toward the bridge and looked at the ground, and Adrissa followed close behind with Mobad. All three looked at the cobble stones and looked at each other nodding.

“A lot went south, across the bridge,” Mobad said simply.

“That’s obvious,” The Blade said. “But the townsfolk were followed by our moldy friends, with no one coming back.”

Adrissa squinted, and suddenly moved to cross the bridge, her head down still focusing on the cobbles and mud. Mobad and The Blade, looked at each other and moved forward, followed by the rest of us.

“We shouldn’t let her do that!” Doxx hissed. “We need to get her to—”

Rosa cut him off, “We’re here, she’ll be fine. I doubt she wants coddling. Besides, she does seem to know what she’s doing.”

Doxx grumbled. I could tell he that he genuinely cared about the girl but was conflicted. I wasn’t sure if it was how the others supported her, or perhaps how The Blade enabled her. Frowning I saw a lot of myself in the girl, and that drive to be able to be a burden to know one. What I didn’t have were critics, or others that cared enough to tell me the risks of what I did. But if they had, would I have listened. Probably not.

Once on the other side she bent down. As she did so, the horn sounded again. It was louder now, but nothing else had changed. She peered at the cobble and mud, and she moved from side to side about two paces.

“They split,” Adrissa quietly noted aloud. “A large number of those thorny dogs, and some vegepygmies headed that way,” She pointed to the south east, which I recalled was the path to the main gate. “But people almost all of them headed south.” And she pointed down a wide causeway that I wasn’t familiar with.

“Let me guess, that way leads to the ‘Church of the Blood Sacrament,’” Bookshelf said, and to which Adrissa nodded.

“Well done,” The Blade beamed. “You will make a fine inquisitive, when this is all over.”

“Inquisti—“ Doxx stopped himself short. “Let’s focus on getting the town secured.”

“That’s not all. There is a big one that followed the townsfolk, along with others.” Adrissa said, ignoring the argument about her.

“We should make sure the townsfolk are safe.” Rosa said. “There is going to be a lot of blind people, likely with self-inflicted wounds.”

“No,” Doxx disagreed. “Getting reinforcements from the outside is a priority.”

“Won’t they just become blind like the rest?” Sage asked.

“We need to warn them about that,” Doxx continued. “But if this is a military column, they might have some standard protection from eyerot. It won’t cure it, but it might be protective against it. And besides, if they are mounted, they can easily crush the vegepygmies.”

“The townsfolk though; they have to be scared, afraid, wounded.” Rosa stated. “We need to go to them, and ensure their safety.”

“Bad choices. Gate.” Mobad said.

“The citizens must be the first priority!” The Blade stated.

“Now look—“ Doxx started.

“—Which means we need to open that gate. Otherwise, we can’t help them.” The Blade finished.

Doxx simply shut his mouth in surprise. And looked at the warforged who looked at each other and nodded, as Rosa spoke again “And if we don’t help the townsfolk, what good will the armies of Karnnath do us? I’ll head to the church myself.”

“We will need you Rosa,” Sage stated. “We will likely have our hands full opening the gate.”

“Someone has to go!” Rosa was almost shouting at this point.

“Adressa, where did most of the vegepygmies go? The gate or the church?” I asked.

“The gate.” She said looking at me confused.

“Alright,” and I took a deep breath. “I’ll go to the church, and the rest of you open that gate.” I said.

“Alone? That’s not a good idea.” Bookshelf said.

“She won’t be alone,” Debrika spoke up for the first time in a while. “She will take Taryn and I there.”

“Taryn’s blind!” Rosa exclaimed.

“And not deaf,” the Mror grumbled. “And not useless. If they get close to me, I can take care of myself.”

“Well…that makes me feel better, but I should still—” Rosa started.

“Rosa,” I said. “The gate is important. Debrika and I can hold down the church until you finish opening that gate. You better protect this lot,”

“I should be with you…but I’ll help with the gate.” Rosa said, straightening up. “You watch yourself out there you three.”

Adrissa stood and said, “I will go with Myrai.”

“No. Please go with the others. They are going to need your help.” I said as I put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m betting we’ll be fine.”

“But I can—” she started before I knelt before her.

“*I* need you to keep them safe. Getting that gate open is a must,” I said. “I have faith in you; do you have it in me?”

Adrissa looked at me biting her lip and looked confused. Finally, she nodded. “Alright…please…please be safe.”

“I’ll be fine; my faith will protect me…and you.”

“Right then,” Doxx said. “Let’s open that gate.”

I turned to Debrika, who was pulling out a cord of hemp, and handed it to Taryn, while she tied an end to belt above her foulds on her armor. Nodding, she hefted her Warhammer and looked at me.

“Right,” I tried to say with confidence. “Good luck. May Kelemvor protect you.”

“I don’t know who that is. But I’ll take it,” Doxx said, and the others nodded.”

The others started to make their way to the front gate, bows, staves, axes and swords at the ready. They jogged down the roadway with urgency leaving us behind.

So, I found myself with my employer, his body guard/accountant, and my ever ‘helpful’ familiar in the crossroads. I looked down it and prayed that my hunch was right.

--_You sure this is a good idea?

I honestly don’t know. But if it is real bad, we’ll just go back to front gate.

--Right…you know if it wasn’t for the fact my existence is predicated on you staying alive, I’d go with them.

Thanks. You really know how to build up my confidence.

--Anytime!

Oh shut up!_


----------



## Nthal

Open House - 7/31/2021​ 

“I don’t like this,” Adrissa said looking over her shoulder and watching the trio of figures head down a causeway.

“We get the gate open, its over. Simple as that,” Doxx said with confidence.

“Do you think it will?” Sage asked. “I might be rusty on rules of engagement and tactics, but if it isn’t a large column, I do not see how they would rout that army.”

Doxx simply glared at the juggernaut, and they all continued down the road. It was strewn with smoking pots and other debris. Storefronts were dark with broken glass panes, and smoke wafted from the insides. As they pressed on, the horn called out again.

“Lots of damage, but…” Bookshelf trailed off quietly.

“What?” Rosa looked around in confusion.

“Bodies,” Mobad said sniffing the air.

“There aren’t any,” Rosa said still confused.

“That’s the problem,” Bookshelf said. “We saw a fair number before the bridge. Now none. Something isn’t right.”

“That’s an understatement,” Doxx grumbled.

“Get out of the middle!” The Blade said as he dashed and pressed himself against the front of the building. His eyes were trained down the throughfare towards the main gate. The others followed the elf’s lead, and he moved along the storefront. He stopped a moment and turned to face the others, raising a finger to his lips, and then pointing down the road.

The gate leading to the southern road was like the one on the north, if wider. The gate itself was flanked by a pair of towers, with a grey stone arch connecting the two, and with a parapet for cover. Wagons were tipped over and arranged partially blocking the gate. There were a handful of spears and weapons lodged into the wood. The smokey haze was thick here, and the call of the horn overtook any other noise.

“What are we—” Sage started, when the juggernaut’s mouth clamped shut.

Rosa squinted to look at the gate, as a breeze brushed her nose. And there with the acrid scent of tar and wood, was the faintest touch of musk. “Oh no,” Rosa said in a pained voice.

Through haze, there were several human sized figures. They shambled almost aimlessly around the roadway. They didn’t look concerned, or defensive or even interested in their surroundings. As they watched, they heard the sounds of bodies scuffling, and moving. Soon more figures shuffled into view, none more interested in the world around them.

“Like the ranch hands,” Adrissa said quietly.

“There must be a plant nearby,” Sage said.

“It must be behind the wagons or the gatehouse,” Doxx said.

Bookshelf peered at the small throng, “Those were the guards; they still have armor on them.” As the warforged whispered, more figures emerged from the makeshift palisade.

“Those are townsfolk. If it is creating them now—”

“We better move now,” Mobad said pulling his axe close.

“I’m going to the roof,” The Blade said. “Cover me!” and he started to scale up the side of the building.”

“Aren’t you supposed to cover us?” Doxx said as the elf disappeared on top of the building.

"I trust his archery and bravado. His understanding of military jargon, not so much.” Sage said. “Rush!” And the juggernaut started to charge towards the gate. Just behind him, Mobad ran, and quickly overtook the heavily armored warforged, as did the old woman with staff in hand. The warforged armblade flared to life as Mobad hew into on of the yellowish musky figures, his second strike nearly splitting it into two. Doxx whirled their staff around and the sounds of bone splintering echoed near the gate, as they quickly beat down a second. Finally, Sage’s blade connected with Doxx’s target felling them, and the flames spread to another zombie like figure.

The noise of steel and wood on bone and flesh, caused the others to turn to look at the trio with a hunger in their eyes. They stumbled forward moving towards the group, arms outstretched, their faces twisted with rictus grimaces. As they staggered forward, a bead of light streaked across and detonated into a conflagration. The wagons and zombies alike were set aflame, with some falling to the ground. But several staggered back to their feet and joined more that lumbered out from behind the wagons. As the burned figures moved forward, the twangs of bows and the impact of arrows into dead flesh and bone, knocking two of them over. A half dozen had now emerged and too began to charge, when beam of light illuminated some of them, searing them with light. Wisps of smoke drifted off them, as they continued forward.

The ones that survived found themselves fighting against a trio they could not touch. The juggernauts plate armor held easily against their flimsy blows. Doxx simply avoided them, easily swatting away clumsy punches. And as for Mobad, he simply roared, and ignored the red gashes in his grey skin. And each with axe, staff and armblade, cut them down as the zombies fell over themselves trying to pummel and claw down. Meanwhile more arrows landed as did a beam of light striking from the distance, and the column of moonlight burning away more dead flesh, as more arrows struck home.

As more fell, the fire from the blast, had set the wagons on fire, and they were quickly consumed by the flames. One collapsed, as fibrous tendril extended and pulled down the sides of the ruined wagon. The creeper stretched upwards, and a pair of pale-yellow flowers bloomed in the night air. From Rosa’s beam of moonlight, puffs of pollen spread wide and then lazily drifted through the air.

From his perch, it appeared that the party seemed to have beaten most of the zombies to the ground, but from his vantage point atop the battered building, The Blade could see Mobade, Sage and Doxx rushing in to battle the final threat. Remembering the basement of the farmhouse, he scanned the creature for a similar weak point and found it: a plexus of sorts in whatever this thing might have called a nervous system. A difficult shot, but not impossible. He took aim and let the arrow fly. It felt like hours before it finally hit the creature… several inches away from the plexus. The creature shuddered only briefly but it did not die.

"Damn it!"

Standing at the top of the barricade, Sage continued to be buffeted by the heavy thorny tendrils as The Blade frantically grasped at the quiver on his hip. "Ugh, too slow!" he hissed to himself as he finally pulled an arrow free and drew for another shot. Suddenly aware of his tension, he caught his breath and whisperd to himself.

"Inhale… aim… exhale… fire."

The new arrow is released and whistled through the air until it plunged into the target. The creature stopped, and the tendrils flop to the ground around it, shriveling slightly.

Mobad, Doxx and Sage are still standing. The party has survived. But the screams continue to ring from all directions in the hazy, musk laden, toxic air. Punctuated by the sounds crumbling stone and splashing water, the screams seem to grow louder in his head until they drown out all else.

_I can't do this. This isn't a bunch of thugs snatching coin purses or beating up a shopkeeper. There's no one to tie up and leave for the guards. The guards are blind or dead. These are monsters… real ones. People are dying. They need something better than me. Something stronger. What the hell am I doing here?_




In a wide garden behind the large manor and surrounded by tall stone walls, a ten-year-old elven boy stands holding a bow that seems just slightly too large for his frame. A few dozen yards in front of him stands a lone tree. Hanging loosely from the thickest branch by a bit of sturdy rope, is a large wooden disc painted with a few wobbly concentric circles.

Pulling back on the string, the boy falters in the middle of the draw and loses his grip. The arrow flies past the tree, striking the wall. He winces at the loud clatter and quickly glances around. Seeing no apparent witnesses, he picks up another arrow and begins to draw again but stops at the sound of voices escaping through an open window.

"Really? A weapon?" a man's voice asks.

A woman replies "I'd hardly call it a weapon, dear. It's a bow."

"It's just not an appropriate gift. Not at that age."

"I couldn't agree more. He should have had one years ago."

"We're not warriors anymore. Life here is about business, not battle."

"Well then, how fortunate that I bought it at your store. Perhaps you'll get a tax deduction."

After an exasperated pause, the man's voice finally speaks. "You know, you're not as funny as you think you are."

With a somehow audible smirk, the woman retorts "Yes I am."

A moment passes after the voices have trailed off into the distance. Stepping out the door into the garden, the elven woman pauses abruptly for a second when she finds the boy's eyes already expecting her. Continuing forward, she says "It's not polite to eavesdrop."

Oblivious to the hint that he should mind his business, the boy blurts his observation. "He doesn't think fighting is important."

She answers with a wistful sigh. "One of the few things upon which we will always disagree, I'm afraid."

"You always say a united front makes us strong."

The slight raise of her eyebrow betrays her mild surprise that he had paid enough attention to remember that. "True," she concedes thoughtfully. "But diversity of perspective makes us wise."

The boy rolls his eyes. "What good is that?"

"Well one is rather useless without the other. Strength is very valuable, right up until the day you face something stronger. And then what do you do?"

Silently, he replies with a curious shrug.

"You adapt. That's where the wisdom comes in."

Intrigued, he presses. "How?"

"It's simple," she says. "You identify your weakness. Then you change it. As many times as it takes." Seeing his mental gears turning, and his mouth preparing to open for another question, she quickly intervenes. "That's enough philosophy for today. Why don't you show me what you can do?" With a wink, she adds "I'd hate to think I've wasted my money."

Resuming his stance, the boy begins again to draw the bow, faltering only slightly this time. As he takes a moment to focus on his target, he hears a slow whisper from above his shoulder.

"Inhale… aim… exhale…fire."

On the last word, his fingers release the string without hesitation. His eyes remain locked on the arrow for several seconds after it embeds itself in the bullseye, and a smile slowly crosses his face.




From the rooftop, The Blade scanneds the battlefield below. Bookshelf destroyed the last of the zombie creatures, and it appears that all of the party is safe and accounted for.

He turned his gaze to the quiver on his hip, and mumbled to himself "Too slow…"

The quiver's condition is as pristine as the day he first laid eyes on it. He runs his fingers along the well-stitched vertical seam. With both hands, he grips the mouth of the quiver and pulls hard several times, until a rip in the seam becomes several inches long. Folding the leather flat around the wider opening, he nodded. "Better."

Outside the city, the muffled voice called again. "Open the gate!"

From the rooftop, The Blade yells down into the streets below "Let's move!". He rushed to rejoin the party.

_People are dying. They need me. They need us.

*Session Notes:*_
Never split the party.  Yeah right.

Thanks again to Ryan for his piece on the Blade's back story.   And we'll see what happened at the church later this week.


----------



## Nthal

*The Church of the Blood Sacrament - 8/17/2021*​

I moved slowly and cautiously moved along the buildings’ sides, avoiding the middle of the roadway. I held a thin rope loosely in my hand. The rope then led to Taryn, who felt his way using the wall of the building on his left. Behind him, Debrika followed right behind, and she kept her Warhammer at the ready. Debrika wasn’t exactly keen on letting anyone guide her employer. But the fact was that she needed to move more than I did should we run into anything.

The way ahead was difficult to make out. It wasn’t the darkness; that didn’t exist for me. But the smoke and a haze from the fire and bags scattered around the city made moving treacherous. The thick plumes obscured everything, so there was no telling if there was an ambush ahead. But still, Debrika and I and were sure, if we couldn’t seem them, then they couldn’t see us. It was a good thing that Taryn was sure footed. While being blind he didn’t fumble or falter. So, while I led him, it was only with the most minimal guidance. Fortunately, we had our own guidance.

Gossamer was running on the rooftops and gliding between buildings. I didn’t really like sending up in the smoke and haze, but any information ahead of us would be valuable. Because, while the smoke wasn’t any better where he was, he easily could scout ahead and listen for signs of trouble.

We made our down the straetway as I led the Mrors towards the large church. I had remembered part of it in the distance; a large grey edifice with a wall that was higher than the town one. I didn’t pay it much mind before as I was saddlesore and needed a drink badly. But one thing I knew was that churches were places where people gathered when they needed help. And I needed help for Taryn and somehow, I knew that that more would be asked of her in kind.

Finally, we came in sight of the gates to the church grounds. The wall completely encircled the compound, and the gate was drawn shut. But it was the large squat vegeogres in front of it that was now the present problem. Especially since they weren’t looking at the gate, but were looking away from it, looking for more survivors. Fortunately, the problem of the haze must have affected them, as they had not reacted to the three of us as we approached.

I pulled on the rope and moved to an alleyway. After checking to see if there was anything lurking there beyond the piles of crates and other debris, I tugged and reeled in the dwarves. Once they got close, I placed my hands on Taryn’s shoulders, guided them to a wall and pushed them down, so he knelt, and Debrika did much the same.

“What is it?” Taryn asked.

“A pair of large ones in front of the gate.” I said as I peeked around the corner.

Taryn frowned, “Not good.”

I shook my head a moment, and then grimaced as she remembered that Taryn couldn’t see my head move. “Sorry no.”

“Are there any other entrances?” Debrika hissed in irritation.

“I have no idea,” I replied. “I didn’t stop in town for a tour. I’ll see if Goss can see one.”

_Goss…is there any other way into the churchyard? 

--I’ll look._

No arguments. Gossamer could be a pain, non-committal, and judgmental. But when it came down to important stuff, he was an asset. And right now all we could do was wait in the haze and hope the Vegeogres didn’t get smarter and find us. But after what felt entirely too long, Gossamer appeared, landing on the ground beside us..

--_I looked. There is a side entrance, but it is chained and locked on the inside. But more importantly, there are people by the main gate and not that one._ And with that, he simply started to lick his paw.

_So, that would mean the main gate is our best chance, since I don’t want to break it down. Looks like I might have to do in the duo one way or another._ Frowning, I started to tighten the straps on her buckler.

_There’s more. There are other figures in the other alleys as well. From what I could tell, they weren’t more pygmys, but more refugees._

“Wonderful. Sodding wonderful.” Myrai said aloud.

“What did he find?” Taryn asked.

“The main gate is the way in, and there are others, like you in other alleys. Probably wanting to get in.”

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Debrika said. “How would they know to avoid them?”

“Luck or they aren’t blind,” I guessed.

“What are you going to do?” Debrika asked.

“Kill them and get you both inside the church. Hopefully.”

“We really should help somehow.” Taryn said ruefully.

I thought a second and looked around the alley. A smile crept up on my face as I looked at the empty crates, ropes and random detritus in the ally.

“I have an idea.”

--------------------

The large brutes barely moved or stirred as they stood in front of the oaken gate. Each flexed their massive hands reflexively and simply waited. The smoke and haze were starting to clear a little, but if they noticed or cared they gave no indication. So it was to their surprise (I think) that when a pair of purple bolts of light streaked from my hands, that they did they react. One bolt for each, and each struck the creatures squarely in the chest. They paused a moment and looked around dumbly, trying to locate where assault came from.

And of course, they just stood there, clueless. Growling under my breath I decided that the subtle attack wasn’t enough. I moved to the middle of the road and yelled, “Over here, you barmy softheads.” I gulped and wondered if this really was a good idea after all, as the creatures turned to face me.

And they still didn’t move.

“Really?” I pulled on the strand again and threw another pair of purple bolts each hitting the creatures, one in the face, and the other in the shoulder. They stood there and blinked, and then both started to charge at me like an angry bull.

“Time to bolt…” I muttered, and broke for the alley as fast as my legs could delivery me.. The Vegeogres, weren’t far behind, their longer strides ensured they would catch me if I simply was planning to run away. But as risky of an idea that was, I was planning something even more risky. Or daring. Brave? Courageous?

I came to a stop in the middle of the alley way and turned to face the pair as they closed in on me. But as the oncoming wall of fungus approached me, I simply wore a cruel smile and waited.

In their haste to turn me into a smear on the cobble stone, they paid no attention to the alleyway itself. And so, they made no noise or sound resembling a voice, but each tripped on a latticework of rope that wound through the alleyway that suddenly entangled their legs, causing them to fall down on the ground.. As they struggled to pull themselves free, two figures burst out from the crates. Tayrn with a short sword and his knuckles, and Debrika with her warhammer in hand. Both were swinging wildly at the prone vegeogres.

For as blind as Taryn was, he didn’t fight like it. His stabs and punches were accurate enough to make deep cuts on our foes. And Debrika just swung her Warhammer overhead and landed blows that cracked…something inside the Ogres. As the Mror fought, I pulled on the strand and ghostly hands arose to throttle the hulks. Pieces and of the fungus material shed away from their forms as the magic rotted them away from the inside. And despite my nerves, it was over for both in a matter of seconds as each of the assailants ceased to move.

“Ok, that’s enough.” I said rushing up to the two Mror.

Taryn, smiled. “Just like tunnel fighting. Usually can’t see there either.”

“I prefer the lit tunnels,” Debrika muttered.

“Come one,” and I pressed the rope into Taryn’s hands. “It’s not far now.”

We left the alley and led the pair to the oaken gate. I then pounded on the door with my buckler.

“Open up!” I shouted. And after what felt like an eternity, The sound of someone struggling inside to move the bar that likely held the gate fast. I kept looking behind me, expecting to beassaulted by another vegesomething, when finally, the gate started to open. I turned and started to smile but I stopped as my jaw hung open as I saw who greeted her.

“Hi Lady Myr.” Said a young halfling girl, who stood there in a simple dress staring up at her.

I stared a moment, trying to remember the name of the Innkeepers’ daughter. “Jess…Jessik Gask right?” to which the girl nodded. Without turning I pulled Taryn with the rope, but Debrika took it from me, and led Taryn inside the compound herself. Tearing my eyes away from Jessik, I looked at the who else was there at the church.

The massive doors to the church were flung open. Above the doors, was a large glasslike orb, the color of deep crimson, held in the jaws of what looked to be a skeletal dragon’s jaw. I had no idea why but looking at the symbol gave me the chills. Something felt wrong here. But before I could think about it, rushing from the church were a number of children, and they took the hands of Taryn and ushered Debrika inside.

“Myrai, what is—” Taryn started.

“You two go with them. I’ll catch up after I ask some…questions.” As I looked behind me and I saw that there were more children leading more adults from the alleyways. I then noticed that behind the gate stood Gandal, Findo Gask’s eldest son, with several teen aged humans. They stood exhausted from working the heavy gate and its bar holding it shut.

Myrai knelt down by Jessik and grasped her by the shoulders. “Jessik, where is your father?”

“He’s still at the inn hiding in the cellar. But its full now. So, he sent us kids to help others come here.”

My heart ached. Children have to bear so much and grow up so fast in times of need. The war in Sigil tore away any innocence left of the children in the Hive. And here it was no better. I knelt down and embraced the halfling for a moment, before looking her in the eyes again. I was afraid of the answer to the question I needed to ask.

“Can every child see?”

“No. The older one’s eyes itch too. They won’t see much longer. Only the younger ones can now.”

“So, your brother…”

“It won’t be much longer.” She said dully. There were no tears left in her at this point.. She was simply enduring the reality she faced. It wasn’t fair to these children. And while she couldn’t shed anymore tears, I did it for her.

“It’ll be alright; once the—”

_Hey boss…we have horses with riders approaching. Well I think they are horses._

“What are you talking about?” I said confused as I stood.

“I don’t—” Jessik started.

“Sorry I wasn’t talking to you I was talking….to…”

I heard them first; the sounds of hooves of cobblestone, and the sound of metal rubbing and clanking on metal. I could only assume that the gate was now open. But as the riders approached, I felt…something. My heart pounded as I felt something nipping at the strands around me. It was more than just simple discomfort, for as the riders approached it felt like the air had turned foul suddenly. Then from the haze I could finally see the riders and their steeds, and I was immediately afraid, as I pushed Jessik behind me.

These horses were not the kind of calvary I expected to rescue me. Instead, I found myself looking at a nightmare. Four dead, skeletal things with well cared for tack and barding, slowed their approach. They didn’t nicker or neigh; the only sound they made came from their hooves. Their tails of bone didn’t swish but hung limply behind it. I had fought skeletons in a Uthgardt tomb once, and I remembered how still the skeletons were there. These animals were even more unnerving as they didn’t act in the way I expected them to act. But whatever I was expecting I now focused on the riders, who had slowed their undead mounts to a halt and dismounted.

My stomach churned as I saw that the rider’s condition was no better than the horses. Looking at the four of them, each were in various states of decay. Browned flesh stretched taut on bones on two of them, and the other two didn’t even have skin. Each wore a helm from which you could see reddish pin lights from where their eyes should have been. They looked at me with cold interest and they drew their weapons.

The skeletons I fought before were a mockery of life, but they moved haltingly and were clearly not smart. Nor did they resemble the raging barbarian they were buried as. But that wasn’t the case here, as these things moved with purpose as a malign intelligence guided them. Each of them looked at me with naked hostility, as two raised their shield and swords up, while the other more skeletal readied a pair of wicked curved blades, one for each skeletal hand. I could feel the resonance; the one inside of me when the undead were close. But this was stronger than any I had ever felt.

And these four were way too close and looked ready to bear down me. All I could do was raise up my shield and moved my rod behind me. I pulled on the strands and the rod now crackled with purple energy ready to pull into service. They started to move and shift trying to surround me. My breathing quickened, and I grit my teeth and mumbled aloud:

“I really don’t like Karrnath.”


----------



## Wilpower784

As I’m reading this, I always think about how these things look like in an actual session. There’s so many creative, unique situations, that it’s hard for me to imagine them from what I’m familiar with. Also might be stuff you’ve added as well when writing. Makes for one heck of an adventure.


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## Nthal

Transcribing a campaign into prose is a challenge.  Having to pull together disaparate personalities (which you didn't create) and scenarios which in the heat of the moment made complete sense (and don't when you look back at them).  

Taking a fight scene round by round is doable (just go back a few pages) but describing the setup in a way so you can follow along in your own theatre of the mind.  Its fun...if a bit draining to dredge up the past and reliving it for everyone else.

But I try to capture what happened in the game first, and fill in the gaps in between as needed.  When this campaign was running bi-weekly in person that was enough.  But contrasting it to the Arnara stories, which were online, on Roll20, with discord chats as backup changes things.  Arnara I now find easier to write, mostly because its fresher, but also the dynamic of the players are different.  Myrai's compaign was improv drama class.  Arnara's was more DM the action, and write a bunch of side scripts.

Thanks for the comments as always.


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## Nthal

*Deux ex Gossamer - 8/24/2021*​

I used to think she overreacts.

Well, I suppose I understand her almost blasting the four Karnathi undead. It was more than simple distaste of course. They are an anathema to her religion, and she felt she was protecting the kitte…er children. The fact they couldn’t even take a swing at her, is her own blessing. It was a good thing that the Karnathi sergeant that followed them and ordered them to stand down. Myrai was suspicious of course, but she was at least polite, if wary. The sergeant was somewhat taken aback by her appearance, but that quickly passed.

That would have been fine, but the children in the courtyard seemed to keep coming to her with questions on what to do. And she basically, without much of a thought let alone a plan started organizing them. Pairing younger with older, giving them things to do. The dwarf Taryn noticed this; he was listening carefully to what she said and the children’s responses.

Then the second wave arrived. If I thought the four undead soldiers and their equal dead mounts was a storm of trouble, Loramica was a hurricane. She was an elf, clad in platemail and a sword and shield. And like every elf I had seen, she was attractive, wearing a flawless symmetrical face, ice blue eyes and gold hair woven into tight braids. But when she opened her mouth, her imperious, arrogant demeanor shined right through. Her voice was one of command, and she demanded everyone obeyed her. She had arrived with a handle of armored men on horse. But they quickly were dispatched to meet with other soldiers securing the town, leaving a much more deferential older elf following her…someone named Lolopethis acting as some kind of assistant. Anyway, after her troops were sent off elsewhere, she decided to order Myrai to do something, but I missed what as I spied a mouse running up a…well nevermind that. My guess it was something that Myrai didn’t care for because of what she retorted. But it seemed that the response of “Pike that” seemed to go over the elf’s head.

Unfortunately, Taryn spoke up, and the elf listened to *him*. And she then ordered Myrai to get the children in line; organize them and get work parties started to man the gates, get all refugees near the inn, and have the children check all the houses for other people hiding in the city. The thoughts I heard through her mind, were…colorful and violent. However, Taryn talked to her, and Myrai while fuming did what was asked of her, although grudgingly.

I’m not clear on why the dwarf intervened. Perhaps to keep her out of trouble? He knew that she has had a difficult time adjusting since she crash-landed on a bar table in Krona Peak. Despite the fall almost killing her, the time in the prison was worse and it was something she didn’t want to repeat. But as I heard it, she basically agreed to listen to Taryn, because she didn’t want these Karns bossing the kids. But I believe it was more than that.

I thought it was the undead. They stared at her; not the kids nor the soldiers. Their eyes constantly followed her. There was a palpable feeling of malice and hate come from them, but the other Karrns didn’t seem to notice. I certainly found them unsettling, but I know that Myrai was trying to ignore them. It was instead the church itself that seemed to put her on edge. She never articulated a thought on why that was the case, more of a sense of the chills. But she was happy to drag Taryn back to the Inn.

On the way Taryn and Myrai talked. She asked him about the church, and she was uncomfortable with what she heard…at first. The blood, the undead champions disturbed her. But the description of the “divinity within” interested her. It aligned very closely with how experiencing the multi-verse and how one’s personal belief can change it. I am still not clear if fascination or revulsion was wining though.

Honestly her heading back to the inn and organizing the kids was a good idea. She had a knack for it. I remembered she told me once she was raised in an orphanage all her early years. And many times, older kids were put in charge of little ones. And because of that, she knew how to talk to younger children. When she stopped reacting to the other Karns soldiers, she was warm and empathetic. That was something I had not seen since she left the Misty Forest, a time she hadn’t talked or thought about in a while. Like she was avoiding thinking about it.

She spent the better part of the early morning getting things arranged. Eight kids to the gate, to watch and help the guards “see.” She found some chalk and told the kids to try every door in town and mark the front doors where they tried find residents. If they though there was trouble, they would flag down one of the several groups of horsemen riding through the down. And once done, head back to the inn for more ‘chores.’ Finally, she had some kids move all the folks in the church back to the Inn area, Findo Gask, while blind, was able to organize the inn, and Flinda was easily able to work the kitchen without her sight. She just took her time with the cutting.

It was well past midday when Myrai caught up with the other agents of Taryn at the Inn. They were debating animatedly on various topics. I could hear Myr’s thoughts drift. She was thinking that she needed to apologize to the ‘old woman’ about something, and also thought briefly about the elf in the black cloak. But after the elf said something about “exposing himself,” she decided just to say a few polite words to Adrian. But most of her thoughts were on the little girl Adrissa.

She wanted to say something to her; but she was having trouble trying to find the right words in her head. The little girl was anything but that now; her leather tunic was covered in dried ichor from fighting the vegemite things. But Myrai saw the look on her face and remembered her own time in Sigil. Losing Markel, Elisna and the Speaker. She wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would be fine.

But she wasn’t sure if that was really true. Would it be fine? Would she feel better? The look on Adrissa’s face was so empty. It dredged up memories from Myrai’s past that made *me* hurt. On Adrissa’s face was the same shock and numbness she had felt after Elisna was killed. It was infuriating to Myrai on how the universe was so cruel at times. What did this girl do deserve it? Would she crawl out of it? She saw Adrissa throwing herself into fights heedless of the danger. Was she trying to get herself killed intentionally?

Many people that had lost all hope did that. Markel did just that apparently. I couldn’t see what he did exactly, as it was a wall too painful for me to pierce and see Myrai’s memories there. She wanted the girl to believe in herself and move on, as Myrai had done. But she felt she should guide her. But as much experience with death and loss that Myrai had; what to do wasn’t clear. All that Myrai knew is that it wasn’t time yet for the little girl. Not even close.

After talking to Taryn and Debrika at the inn, she then did a tour of the gates around town. She made trips to the gates and made sure things were in order and promised that she would have some relief before midnight. She halted and talked to some of the cavalry patrols to see how the reclaiming of the town had gone. It was sunset when she returned to the Inn. There everything was settled, and the rotations of the kids was working smoothly. Inside, the Gask’s had everything in quick running order and warm food was being served up to the townsfolk. Outside, Myrai had some of the kids guide guards to carry fire wood and any leftover food supplies from the houses. It wasn’t cold, but the kids needed the light and warmth. Tomorrow, families and kin would be reunited if possible. But the children of Denning were going to have to help their elders, far before their time.

But while Myrai put a face of confidence and calm on the outside, the reality was that she was quite a mess. I saw that she ‘liberated’ a bottle from the Inn and sat on the dirt on the side of the street, exhausted. I realized unhappily it was going to be another one of those nights. Myrai liked drinking to be certain. But she wanted to purge the day from her mind. She wanted to be numb once again. She didn’t want the responsibility of managing the kids; it was too close to the orphanage that she left. She wanted to put Adrissa out of her mind. And she certainly didn’t want to dream and suffer her regular nightmares this night. Not now.

I knew better to say anything; when Myrai drank she ignored me. Her mind just became a morass of half thoughts, and emotion, all grey and dull with the liquor coursing through her. As the bottle was drained, everything in her head became muddled and darker. Finally, all I could feel and see was emptiness, and she slumped over into the dirt.

This wasn’t something I could fix; that was up to her after all. But she did deserve better, and I could help her get out of the dirt. I had noticed that the other agents didn’t return to the Inn, but they adopted a nearby building as their own. The light from inside the building went from bright torch light to darkness very quickly. Some sort of spell I was sure. However, it didn’t prevent me from entering and getting the attention of the…gnome? No, the halfling, Rosa. She was easy enough to communicate with what I wanted. She quickly asked the grey skinned one to follow me and fetch poor Myrai and carry her inside. He wasn’t exactly gentle, and she hit the floor hard when he tried put her down on her feet. But she instead, collapsed into heap on the floor, unaware of her relocation. But at least she was safe…safer?

She lay there mumbling to herself for a while and then drifted off. That was perhaps for the best, based on where the conversation drifted. The only three that were awake were the elf, and the two golem like things called Bookcase and Sage. One of them told a story that raised the hackles on my back and wings. Torture and dismemberment were involved a scheme involving soldiers for ransom all run by a Karrnathi officer who had recruited Bookshelf as a conspirator. I was glad that Myrai wasn’t awake for that. I knew she had some…experience with those type of matters andiIt was that part of her she buried, behind a wall of horror and shame in her mind. I only knew a little from the time on that pirate island when she saved a wizard’s life by running a con, posing as someone with…painfully exotic tastes. She was very convincing, and that frightened me.

And her.

But for now, all I could do is sit and watch over her, and hope that whatever dreams she did or did not have, that she would approach the morning with optimism and gusto.

Oh, who am I kidding?

*Session notes:*
There was a bit of break between this part and the next one, Gossamer's commentary was filler before the next chapter really began.


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## Wilpower784

Gossamer gets a turn in 1st person? What a pleasant surprise.


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## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> Gossamer gets a turn in 1st person? What a pleasant surprise.




Its part of his contract.  He has another one back in the Journal of the Souls of Legend as well.









						Journal of the Souls of Legend (completed)
					

Strange dreams, stranger gifts – 08/28/2019  Things never seem to last.  Ragpicker’s Square is full of the refuse and broken things of Sigil.  The poor pick through it, looking for anything that could be of value, no matter how low.    It’s a testament to how nothing stands up to the ravages of...




					www.enworld.org


----------



## Nthal

*Hangover Hell - 9/6/2021*​

I could feel the throbbing of my heart pulse through my head. I winced and tried to squeeze my eyes tighter, as if it would assuage the self-inflicted pain from last night. As I exhaled, I felt my throat grind out a mournful sound, and as I did so I wondered if this was the sound of a near death rattle.

“I think she’s awake.” a metallic voice noted without sympathy or judgement.

“Well, *that* is a miracle,” said a biting voice that reminded me of an ancient Bleaker who cared for the orphans in the Gatehouse. “That bottle she cradled wasn’t meant to be drank straight.”

“That explains my headache,” I grumbled as I pushed myself to a sitting position and leaned my back heavily against the wall.

“Hon, you probably should have something to drink though. It might settle your stomach so you can eat something,” Opening my eyes, I saw Rosa standing close and leaning down towards me. Her soft hands tilted my head back as she looked into my eyes and frowned.

“Well…normally I can tell how bad you would be feeling based on how bloodshot your eyes are.”

I gave a wan smile and a brief chuckle. “I don’t think my eyes can change colors like other’s. But they do feel a bit scratchy.”

“Well, some water might help you…but the stores here are a bit spent.”

“Is there a barrel here? An empty one?” I asked.

Rosa nodded and pointed to a corner with a large oaken barrel. I rose wearily and walked unsteadily towards it glancing around. The pair of warforged were on either side of a door looking outwards to the town, while the old woman sat on stool looking at me disapprovingly. The Blade was busy inspecting a bundle of arrows, running his hands over the fletching, and checking the heads. The large grey orc lay flat on the ground snoring, while near the hearth I saw the girl Adrissa, curled up into a tight ball.

Reaching the barrel, I placed my hands on the edges and leaned forward to look down to the bottom. it took a brief pull on a white strand and mentally I poured it into the barrel. I felt cool air flow out across my fingers as the cool water rose towards the top. I could see my reflection rush towards me. My eyes didn’t look like mirrors in the water, but black pools. My face tired and haggard, with my unkempt hair clinging to each other like dirty ribbons hanging from my head. I plunged both my hand into the water, and scooped the cool water onto my forehead, letting it flow down my face. I then put both my hands in again and cupped the clear water and poured it clumsily into my mouth.

“I think there are some bowls and cups around here,” Bookshelf remarked and the warforged walked towards some cabinets against the end of the…

“Where am I?” I asked.

“This was a House Jorasco aid station,” Rosa said. “It was boarded up and shut years ago it appeared. We decided to make it our residence as the Inn is a bit full, and the other houses haven’t been fully checked for…plants.”

“I don’t remember…I guess someone dragged me in here.” I said, accepting a bowl from Bookshelf.

“You can thank Gossamer for that,” Rosa said moving over to a shelf, where my familiar lay looking bored.

I nodded and moved away from the barrel feeling a small measure better. I walked over to Adrissa’s sleeping form. I brushed the hair away from her face, and sighed. If you looked past the dirt, it was one of peace and serenity.

“She’s been out since last night,” Sage commented. “We didn’t see a reason to wake her.”

“Good. We should get her to the Inn and have Findo take care of her,” Doxx said. “Sooner she is with…everyone else, the better.”

“Say who?” Mobad said, still flat on his back, eyes closed.

“I thought you were asleep,” Doxx said glaring at the orc.

“Was. Then someone make noise. Can’t sleep now,” and the orc stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “But girl decide, not Doxx.”

“She’s not old enough to make decisions,” Doxx said exasperated.

“I doubt she’s just going to stay here quietly,” Rosa said looking at the supine Adrissa. “She has too much anger to just sit here. She said that she doesn’t have family anywhere else—”

“And that makes us a better choice? We aren’t exactly foster parents…or even an orphanage.”

“Anything is better than that,” I said as the others looked at me. “It’s a place to put someone that isn’t wanted. I want something better for her than that.”

Doxx blinked and looked at me like all sense had dropped out of my head. “And you propose what? Raise her on the go?”

I squinted at Doxx, “Just because you look like a grey beard, doesn’t make you one. She’s in pain, and she is going to do what she wants. So the best we can do is at least guide her. Doesn’t matter if she wants to stay here, or do something with us—”

“—With us? That’s a brilliant point, what exactly are we doing?” Doxx asked the group. “We all were lured here for a mine, but now all I want to do is talk to M—”

“Excuse the intrusion, but am I interrupting something?” an unfamiliar voice said. The group turned, to see an elf at the doorway. His golden hair was long and straight, and his eyes were blue and bright. His smile and manner spoke of refinement, and his calm graceful movements were calm and assured.

“Lolopethes is it not?” Rosa acknowledged the elf in the room.

“Yes. We all met when you opened the gate. But I’m afraid we did not have chance to speak, miss…”

“Myrai. I saw you at the Blood Sacrement with your…commander?” I said remembering her arrogant voice trying to order me about like some low-ranking hard head.

“Ah…Warlord Loramica is…well why I am here. Can I have a seat? My bones are older than I look.”

The Blade vacated the tall stool he was sitting in, and the elf sat down heavily, clearly tired.

“Warlord?” Sage asked with a note of surprised. “I thought Karnathi warlords commanded from military fortifications.”

“They do indeed. However, there are some…skilled commanders that are granted the title before a suitable demesne is assigned. But she has all the rank and privileges granted to one. And in the absence of the local warlord, her word is law.”

“Well, we should make our way out of here, and get out of her way.” Rosa said sweetly as Lolopethes shook his head.

“The town is officially under martial law, and as such she has forbidden anyone from leaving until she secures the town. And that is already problematic as you can imagine.”

“I’m not a Karnathi citizen,” Bookshelf said simply.

“It doesn’t matter; you are in Karnnath. The Code of Galifar had been suspended for decades, and the Code of Kaius doesn’t distinguish between citizens and…guest insofar as emergency situations are concerned. But that is precisely why I am here; I have a proposal.”

“A proposal?” Sage said. “How do you know anything about us?”

“Well, that’s simple, there were three things that told me you warranted special…attention. First, you opened the gate, not the guards. Second, she,” gesturing at me, “opened the gate to the church and was about to face four Karnnathi undead on her own--”

“—She out of her mind?” Bookshelf whispered too loudly to Sage.

“I don’t think she knows.” Sage said shrugging.

“Two pairs of musties and I impress someone?” I said confused.

“People don’t do that…and live, “Sage said simply. I gulped wondering if I had dodged a trip to the Fugue when Lolopethes continued.

“Yes…most don’t have the nerve. But I had never seen Karnathi…pause in the pursuit of their duty. That is very unlike them.”

“What was the third thing then.” Sage asked.

“Oh…I asked Taryn d’Kundarak what a scion of this house was doing here. And he told me everything. And everything about you.”

Doxx glowered and spat, “Damn that Mror. Has he no respect for privacy.”

“The House Accords are very clear on their responsibility to…any of the crowns in times of emergency where it doesn’t intrude on a House’s business. So, he told me a little of each of…” he glanced at the girl still asleep on the floor, and then he turned to face Doxx. “…most of you. But it doesn’t really matter. Loramica was going to put you to work cleaning out houses and doing guard duty. An utter waste in my opinion.

“Wait wait wait,” Doxx started. “You can’t tell me you are going to induct them into some type of special operations.”

“What? Oh no,” Lolopethes replied. “Your services were volunteered by House Kundarak.” I think we all collectively groaned at those words. “And as a partner in such matter, you have a lot of discretion on what you are able to do.”

“Do we have a choice? A real one?” I asked.

“Not really. But I honestly like you all, and Loramica hasn’t learned to use a lighter tone in matters like this. I’d rather help you be successful in doing the odd jobs that you were hired for and do them for us. And to be truthful…we don’t have much of a choice either.”

“What are you not telling us?” Sage asked.

“A lot. But come to the _Blood Sacrament _in an hour. Everything we know will be discuss there…as equals. Not as subordinates. Please,” the elf said with a sad look in his eyes.

“We’ll talk it over,” Rosa said smiling.

Lolopethes nodded, “Of course. As a fellow agent…of the crown, not a house mind you, I understand you need a moment. I will…hopefully see you soon.” The elf then stood, and walked briskly to the door, before turning and looking at all of knowingly before leaving. But as he left the doorway, Doxx stood up and started to follow the elf out the door.

“Doxx where are—” started Rosa, when Doxx waved her off.

“—Just stay here a moment.” And he left the Jorasco station.

_Hey Goss…follow him. Let me know what happens.

--Hm? Sure boss._

Gossamer quietly rolled off his perch, and without a sound, landed and made his way towards the door as I spoken getting the rest of their attention.

“What did I do that was so special?” I asked looking at the group.

Sage spoke up, “Karnathi undead aren’t like…simple skeletons. It is said that it takes the body of a veteran soldier, but after the rites are performed, you get something stronger, smarter and far more…cunning. They can operate without others to guide them.”

“At least they’re quiet,” I said.

“Only because they had nothing to say. They can talk, and they are very very smart. Don’t underestimate one.”

“That’s just…wonderful. So, are we going to church?” I asked.

“I don’t see a reason not to.” Sage said. “Best way to evaluate what else is going on.”

“Best going in with the best information possible,” The Blade said. “It would be a step up from where we started.”

“Take me with you,” a quiet voice said, and we turned to look at Adrissa, who was sitting by the hearth, with her chin on her knees. “I don’t have anywhere to go. And I want to find out how I can help. Doing something is better than sitting around doing nothing right?”

Bookshelf, Mobad, and Rosa each nodded in agreement and at that moment, Doxx entered the station.

“Well…we should definitely listen to him. So lets drop off the girl—”

“She’s coming with us,” said The Blade. “We will educate her as we go.”

“Wait a moment! You can’t just dec—”

“Yes, we can,” Adrissa said. “I suggest dealing with it and teach me something useful. Or shut up about it. I’m good with either.”

Doxx sighed, the old woman shoulder’s sinking in defeat. I smiled to myself, but I was interrupted.

_--That was interesting boss.

What happened?

--It was real short. The old woman ran over and said ‘Wait,’ and then she said something curious” ‘Thank Kaius for your Fortitude.’ The elf then stopped and smiled and replied, ‘It is Moranna’s will.’ And then they clasped forearms. The elf then leaned in close and whispered something to Doxx, but I couldn’t make it out._

I looked at Doxx who was busy explaining with all the logic they could muster why Adrissa couldn’t come with us. All the while I wondered:

What was the real game here?


*Session Notes:*
Well of COURSE Adrissa wasn't leaving. It was my daughter and she was now hooked on Dungeons and Dragons (One of US,  One of US...)  But as for the rest, well now we see how bad really are next story post.


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## Wilpower784

I’ve got a question: what made you choose to bring in Myrai for this campaign? Coming from a Forgotten Realms campaign, it seems like Myrai would more likely continue in the same world than move to a story in Ebberon. And while the multiverse works in mysterious ways, was there something that made you want to put Myrai with the rest of this bunch?


----------



## Nthal

Well Myrai's original incarnation was for a Curse of Strahd campaign that never got started.  So she started up in a Forgotten Realms homebew, because I wanted to actually play her and explore some ideas about faith.

But in a sense she isn't Forgotten Realms;  she's really more grounded in Planescape; her speech, her childhood, that she was a member of a faction.  The fact she has a FR god (Kelemvor) is coincidence, as Sigil sees all sort of religions.  So in a sense, her boucing around the multiverse is a dream for her.  That because she values her freedom highly; she doesn't wasnt to be in debt to anyone, nor put in a cage (real or metaphorical). 

So, when the Souls of Legend campaign ended, and the Thorns one started, there was an opportunity.  And the "fish out of water" theme still worked.  Or New York Manhantanite in Pratt Kansas.   

And so her story continues...although Arnara's story has been more recent and more fun in many ways.


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## Nthal

_*The Chase - 09/22/2021*_​
 We started to pick up some of our things, the weapons, armor, and shields in preparation to meet with Lolopethes’ master; the Warlord Loramica. I was happy to leave my pack and heavier things behind, if only for a while. I took the time to dry off my hair and do a more thorough cleaning with the stands. The others were doing much the same, although most were eager to use the barrel of water that I had created.

I checked myself for my things, and my hand touched the _Apocrypha _I carried. I hadn’t had time to think about it or read its passages recently. A pant of guilt shot through me, as I realized I hadn’t really tried to read its passages. At night I prayed as always, but I couldn’t say that I felt the solace my worship normally provided. Perhaps it was my arrival here in Eberron; the prison in Mror, the prison underground, all of the recent events. Or was it Eberron itself, so new and remote to all I knew and experienced before? I never claimed I could speak for my god Kelemvor, but I had never felt far from him, until now. Even with Adrissa by my side searching for faith, I felt a little lost myself. Until I touched the silvery cylinder.

I felt a sudden warmth clutch at my heart for a moment, causing me to reflexively clutch at my bosom. I could feel the strands moving within me. It was like something stirred them to life, and it wasn’t of my own volition. Focusing a moment, they seemed to be reaching or trying to reach for something. But the feeling was already starting to pass, and the strands started to quiesce and grow still.

Several of the others had already left the aid station, and I made my way to the door, shaking my head. And so, I wasn’t paying attention when I bumped into the “The Blade” as we both squeezed out the door together. But as we turned and turned with our chests brushing, I felt the strands surge again in a flurry. I stopped, and The Blade pushed past me, but as he did so, I tried to see what was causing the strands to react. It was then I realized two things; the first it wasn’t the strands that were tied to the _Apocrypha; _it was the ones that were part of me that was an Aasimar. The second thing was that it was reaching not for The Blade…but something he was wearing.

That elf favored dark clothing was an understatement. His cloak,mask, armor and even his bow was lacquered to darkened hue. But as I looked at him, I noticed that just below the clavicles, that he had a lump under the softer part of his leather armor. Without asking, I reached up and touched the spot and barely grazed it, when he caught my hand by the wrist and held it firmly, his eyes boring into me.

“Don’t touch that,” he growled, his eyes narrowing.

“I’m…sorry. I felt something and—”

“—That’s private. And personal,” he said redundantly.

I nodded, “I understand…but I…I felt something…within me reach for it.”

He still held my hand tightly and his eyes didn’t relax, but he spoke in lower tones, and was less edged. “It is a family heirloom. I do not see how it would concern you.”

I shrugged, and said, “I don’t know. Perhaps we can talk later…when we aren’t rushed?” I tilted my head and smiled. After a moment, he released my wrist, and pulled his cloak tightly around his torse muttering a single word:

“Perhaps.”

--

We walked over the bridge, heading back to the _Church of the Blood Sacrement_. As we did so, some of the children, ran over to me and asked for hugs, and some saying thanks. Despite the grey day, and the grim circumstances they seemed unperturbed by it. I smiled and was glad that they felt safe and were adjusting to the near normal. But I also saw them run and hug Adrissa as well. They were seeming in awe of her; that she was travelling and fighting the evil around them. Living a romanticized ideal of what it meant to fight for your life. Perhaps they felt kinship, because how they now were caring for their parents, and now she took ‘care of them all.’ Adrissa was uncomfortable with the attention at first, but she did smile as she waved goodbye once on the other side of the bridge, and we started up the causeway to our destination.

But every step I took closer, the more unnerved I felt. It did not let up at all as we approached the open gate, and once we stepped inside the courtyard the source of my discomfort was clear. The courtyard had been turned into a makeshift stable, but instead of living mounts, there stood over a dozen horses. Dead ones. Their skeletons all dressed in high quality tack and harness, ever ready for the next ride. But even more discomforting to me were the four Karnnathi skeletons and four zombies stood flanking the door.

When we entered the courtyard, they just stood there, unmoving and oblivious to us, but as we approached the double oaken doors to the church, the eight all seemed to turn their heads and look not our group, but just at me. Their posture changed, and I could see them shift their weapons in their hands, all like a living soldier would at the approach of the threat. I remembered the last time I fought the undead and they didn’t move, or act like a ‘normal’ person. These did, and I could feel their malign hatred in my own bones as they stared at me. I wanted to turn around and walk away. I wanted to unleash my power onto them and destroy them. But all I could do was choke back the bile that built up at the back of my throat.

“You…are expected.” One of the skeletons hissed in a dry and raspy voice holding no warmth. I knew there were intelligent undead, and I never wanted to meet one. But now I was faced with eight of them and I was incredulous that these…things were normal. A part of Karnnathi life; a common tool of war. I didn’t need to ask my god about this; it was wrong; a horrible sin of the highest order. And yet, I could do nothing but be polite.

I swallowed and shivered, as I walked past the dead eyes staring at me. My breathing was quickened; and I fought every urge to run or to fight. Mobad opened the doors ahead of us, and as we walked up the steps, I felt a hand on mine, and I glanced down and saw Rosa looking up at me.

“You look a bit green. Are you alright?”

I quickly with as little movement as I could, I shook my head. Rosa squeezed my hand and sighed as she continued, “This is the darkest part of the Karnnathi soul; but you aren’t walking it alone.” I breathed at little easier and steeled myself to stride past the undead, and beyond the doors into the church itself.

The _Church of the Blood Sacrament_ was different that any other church I had been in. Other churches had windows, with glass to light the way, or stained glass to project icons and symbols to the faithful. But here, the walls had no openings to the outside. Light was provided by torches sputtering on various pillars, and overhead was a candelabra of candles. White, tapestries took their place, with embroidery of gold framing scenes of people with their heads bowed, and golden cloth surround as if it were trying to illuminate their hearts. Each person held an image of a cup or bowl which was filled with appeared to be red liquid.

Blood.

In the center of the room, there were benches surrounding a dais, carved with deep channels, that let to holes at the edges. There was a basin in the center, but the view of it was obscured by a table, clearly moved and set over it. On the table lay maps and papers Around it stood a number of armor figures, some in heavy plate others in lighter leathers. Standing at one edge stood Lolopethes, who looked up from the papers at us and gave a small smile and a nod. Next to him, stood Loramica. While she stood a full foot shorter than her aide, her eyes and the grim look at her face was enough to put me ill at ease. My stomach continued to churned and I grit my teeth together as I suppressed the urge to vomit. But at that point she spoke, and I had something else to focus on.

“Finally, the…Kundarak lackeys are here. Let’s get on with it. Sergeant, report!” Loramica commanded.

One of the plate armored men, snapped to attention and spoke, “Ma’am! The Town streets have been cleared of the remaining vegepymies, and one quarter of the towns building have been cleared looking for other plant infestations. A patrol rotation inside the walls has been established as well. As we have the…children, “his voice quavered uncomfortably. “Watching the gates, with the support of the blind guards, it frees us to watch the walls and spare riders to patrol outside as well.”

“And our supplies?” Loramica asked.

“We have enough medicine to hold back illness for about two weeks. Perhaps three if we are cautious.”

“Medicine?” Rosa asked with curiosity.

Lolopethes responded, “Yes Rosa. When you warned us at the gate about the Eye Rot, we took precautions. Karnathi regiments had to deal with this illness often during the last war. We have eye drops that act as a prophylactic against it. However, it is useless as a curative.”

Rosa nodded, “That explains much.”

“Can we continue?” Loramica snapped.

“Sorry Ma’am. We sent riders out along the river on the south bank. So far, the army has not made any attempt to ford the river.”

“What about the north bank patrols?” she demanded.

“Two groups we sent out last night; one towards Salenhold, the other to scout to see where the army is encamped. They have not returned as of yet.”

Loramica nodded. “And I am told you have a cure Major?” she was now looking directly at Doxx, as the rest of us stared at the old woman in surprise.

“Um…yes, Warlord.” Doxx said awkwardly. “Rosa here, has a formula that will cure this variant of Eye Rot.”

“It will take a decent amount of two components to cure the town. Tagent oil and morning glys flowers are required.”

“As I recall,” said Lolopethes, “House Cannith should have a store of oil in Cattbron. As for the flowers, they are native to the swamps near Bog o Narn.”

“Then it will be simple,” Doxx started. “We call for reinforcements from Fort Deepdark or Vulyar, and then we sta—”

“—We cannot expect reinforcements.” Loramica said evenly.

Doxx blinked in surprise as the rest of us looked at each other. “What?”

“We are cut off,” Lolopethes said. “A wall of thorns has cut off the Lightning Rail to the south around Cattbron.

“A wall?” Mobad said slowly. “The same wall?” He looked at the warforged who exchanged glances with each other.

“A single wall like that would be almost a hundred miles in diameter,” Sage said doubtfully.

“One hundred twelve based on the northern edge.” Bookshelf corrected.

“Well, it doesn’t appear to be a circle, but more an ovoid in shape,” Lolopethes informed us. “The north south is longer. But it extends beyond Cattbron to the south, and cuts into Darklake just west of Bog o Narn and extends as far east as Salenhold. It has cut off the Lightning rail, and attempts to cut through it, or scale over it have been disastrous, leading to many fatalities in Cattbron.”

“What about under it?” The Blade asked.

“Well…that is possible, but all around the edges the weather is as icy as the Frostfell.” Lolopethes shrugged. “Practically solid ice.”

“Wait…the weather is warm here. Why is it icy at the edges?” Rosa asked.

“Because something is pulling heat away,” I said after a moments’ thought. “The same something that created the wall.”

“Indeed,” Lolopethes said. “And that something is drawing heat to the north. The south is now a frozen tundra; and while we could perhaps dig through it, the people needed would freeze before making any headway. The road to Denning was already treacherous with ice.”

At that moment, the doors to the church opened again, admitting two more leather clad men. They were spattered in mud, and the looks on their faces was tired and haggard. Loramica nodded a moment, and said tersely, “Report.”

The first man spoke, “As we feared, a large section of the army went to Salenhold, and it is under siege. While the army is on the less protected side of the fortress, its walls are far taller than Denning’s. However, the bridge across the river appears to be damaged, locking the defenders inside Salenhold itself. They are for the moment, trapped.”

His companion then spoke up, “The main army has ensconced itself within the forest and has taken no action to cross the river at any point. They seem to be content to…wait.”

Loramica frowned. “We have two weeks. After that, we will be blind to their actions, and vulnerable. Salenhold’s troops are bottled up, and unable to assist.”

“Why not rush the town?” Mobad asked.

“Because they don’t need to,” Loramica said. They could, and risk taking loses, or they could wait and let the disease takes it course and lose little of their strength. They know that no help is coming. Cunning for bunch of plants.”

“There was one other item,” the soldier continued. “On the return, we spied a small group of the larger ones, heading towards a section of the wood to the east.”

“A patrol isn’t a major concern,” Loramica said dismissively, but Lolopethes raised a hand and motioned for the man to continue.

“Ah…yes. But this patrol had a human figure leading them. We haven’t seen any other patrol with the plants.”

Loramica tilted her head and pursed her lips, while the rest of us looked at each other. “What exactly is in that direction soldier?” The Blade asked.

“We inquired at the Inn before coming here; it leads to a valley that dead ends into the mountains. There wasn’t anything of interest there, no farmsteads, no fortifications. Nothing.”

“It would seem that something is interesting; but only the druids know what,” Sage remarked.

“Druids? Explain Major.

Doxx again looked around sheepishly. “The leader of the vegepygmies has a circle of druid under his sway. We believe he is a Reacher by the name of Moragon.”

“And who is this druid?” Loramica demanded.

“Moragon. Moragon Finn,” Rosa said quietly. “He’s a member of a sect known as the Children of Winter. A sect that desires for the world to be reborn in a wonderous spring. And they apparently know how to breed or create…vegepygmies…and more.”

Lolopethes stroked his chin. “They know something. Something that requires their circle to attend to. I wonder what.”

Loramica leaned over the table and frowned in frustration. “Short on supplies, short on horse and men. It will take all the men we have to hold the town and stop sorties from taking out the gates and prevent them from gathering for a fording.”

“Indeed,” Lolopethes agreed and gestured at us. “They can handle other matters for us, while we fortify. If we can hold here, perhaps the stalemate at Salenhold will be broken.”

Loramica nodded and looked again at Doxx, “Well…what do you…advise,” she said with mouth clenched shut.

“Ah…well…we have three options it seems. Go to Cattbron and get the tagget oil. Go to Bog O Narn and find morning Glyss, or chase a wild patrol. How far is that valley anyway?”

“Its less than half a day’s walk,” Adrissa said quietly. “Everything else is four days walking or two on horse.”

“The druid may be able to answer questions; we should interrogate them while we can,” The Blade said firmly.

“Do you know the area well?” Loramica asked looking at the girl with interest for the first time, to which Adrissa nodded confidently. “Good; guide the Major and his band there then.

Adrissa smirked and looked straight at the old woman who just covered her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Yes…I would love to show him the way.”

“Good,” Loramica said curtly. “I have patrols to arrange. And you…you have a druid to find. Dismissed.” The soldiers saluted and exited the church, while Loramica and Lolopethes, headed towards a hallway in the back. Once out of earshot, Rosa turned to and looked at Doxx.

“Major…Major Doxx?” she said with a note of incredulity.

“Yes, that is my commissioned rank, means little; I don’t have a command—”

“—You didn’t exactly disabuse her of that presumption though, did you?” Rosa said dryly.

“How is it he outranks me?” Bookshelf asked Sage.

Sage shrugged, “I never got my formal commission at all. Bank guards don’t really need one.”

“Hrrumph,” said Mobad. “He not a war leader.”

“No. I’m not,” Doxx said. “I’m a…a—”

“—Spy.” The Blade finished.

“—An operative,” the flustered woman said.

“What’s an operative?” Adrissa asked looking at Doxx quizzically.

“A nicer word for spy.” Rosa said sweetly. “Some folks are picky about the term.”

“I am not pick…” and Doxx’s voice faltered, and he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go find this druid, so we can figure out what’s going on here.”

“Finally. Less talk, more action.” Mobad huffed in satisfaction. The others nodded and started to make their way out of the church.

I lingered a moment; as the voices drifted off outside. As I stood there in the quiet tomb of a church, I could feel the sense of wrongness again. I looked around, searching for one of the Karnnathi skeletons or zombies, but I saw no one; I was alone. My stomach once again felt uneasy, as I kept looking around in confusion, wondering what the source of my discomfort was. I closed my eyes and reached out with the strands. It was difficult as they were agitated, and it took focus to allow them to sense around me. After feeling around I realized that the discomfort was somewhere near the table that was set in the center of the room. I stared at it in confusion, unclear why it would be the source when I remembered something. I stepped towards it, and bent down to look underneath it.

Beneath it, a granite basin stood there. I reached towards it, and my fingers touched the edge, and I could feel warm stone. Far warmer than the air in the room around me. Standing up again I pushed the table a bit, so the lip of the basin would be visible. As the table moved away, and the light hit the basin I saw the source of my unease.

The basin was full of warm blood. It wasn’t the blood from a corpse; that kind of blood turned dark and cold quickly as life faded away. This was blood, as fresh as if I cut my own wrist and dribbled it in. Something kept it…warm…and fresh. But it wasn’t just that as I realized that the basin was like one to hold holy water.

“Myrai…come on,” Rosa said causing me to start.

I covered my heart with my hand as it pounded. “Rosa,” I whispered. “What is…”

“The religion here…the Blood of Vol. It asks for the ‘seekers’ to look within for divinity.” She said softly, and disapprovingly.

“So…what’s with the blood?” I asked dreading the answer.

“It’s the seeker’s. They ritually bleed themselves as part of a communion.” Rosa said simply.

“What? Why?”

“Well…to support their champions.”

“What do you mean,” I asked feeling even more ill than before.

“They…” she looked around before leaning forward towards me and whispering. “The champions of the faith are said to be…intelligent undead. And the church…they support them.”

I looked at the basin with horror. It felt like the walls of the church were slowly closing in around me. My heart pounded, and I felt nervous and ill. “That’s….that’s…wrong.”

“Its Karnnath…I don’t care for it much either. Come on. The sooner we get you out of here the better.

I nodded dumbly and followed Rosa outside. I didn’t even notice the undead staring at me this time, their malicious eyes looking at me with hate. I hoped it would be a while before I returned here, because I only had one thought on my mind.

I wanted to burn it to the ground.

*Session notes:*
The Blood of Vol is an interesting religion, and I love Keith Bakers notes about it.  Trying to get the feel of the creepiness on one hand, the forced tolerance of others about it makes for an interest vibe overall.


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## Wilpower784

Oh hey, the Apocrypha is back. That was one of my favorite plotlines I missed from Souls. Hope we get to see more of that in the future.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Wilpower784 said:


> Oh hey, the Apocrypha is back. That was one of my favorite plotlines I missed from Souls. Hope we get to see more of that in the future.




Absolutely. I'm hoping there will be a few more revelations about Myrai as well as her take on Eberron.


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## Nthal

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Absolutely. I'm hoping there will be a few more revelations about Myrai as well as her take on Eberron.



Hint:  Likes concept of the Seeker's of the Blood of Vol, but their take on death, the afterlife and the undead is starting a smoldering fire. 

As for the _Apochrypha.  _Be careful what you wish for...


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## Nthal

*Death flies on pale wings*​
My discomfort lessened as I put some distance away from the church and returned to the Jorasco aid station to gather our gear. We didn’t say much to each other on the way. The Blade’s grim face revealed nothing of his thoughts as he strode down the road. Rosa had a small frown on her face but otherwise walked with confidence in her step. Doxx glowered, occasionally turning to look at Adrissa and then shook his head in disbelief. Mobad seemed, bored; flexing his muscles and stretching his limbs expecting to encounter of violence ahead of him. Countering this were the warforged; their faces betraying nothing, although Sage walked in a march, with eyes straight ahead, and Bookshelf mumbled things to themselves.

But Adrissa was the one I was watching. We had gathered our things and were headed to the smaller She was quiet, as she had been recently, but there was a determined look on her face. Was it because of Loramica’s confidence in her? Was it an opportunity to enact revenge for her family? Or was it…

“Adrissa!” I heard a girl exclaim as we approached that led back to the north. From the top of the gate a girl bounded down and ran towards the surprised Adrissa. She embraced Adrissa warmly, with a bright smile that could wash away the grey clouds that churned above us.

“Cyr…cyr…cyr...a?” Adrissa stammered.

“I can’t believe it!” Cyra said in excitement. “I heard from the others that you came into town and let in the troops! You helped save us all!”

Adrissa stood there her face a mixture of shock and sorrow, unable to speak or express what she felt. She instead gamely returned the hug with her right arm, while her left held out her bow to the side.

“We’re all…sorry on what has happened,” she said as she backed off with tears in her eyes. “But please keep us safe. Keep yourself safe. Please.”

Adrissa nodded stiffly. I could see her hold back the tears in eyes. I moved behind her, and put a hand on her shoulder.

“We have to get moving Cyra,” I said, and the young girl turned to look at me in the eyes, and I watched her jaw dropped, and she released Adrissa, and took a step back nodding.

She then smiled and ran back to the top of the gate, yelling, “I’ll keep watch for you Adrissa!” And we walked through the gate way, hearing the various children yell “Goodbye!” and some of the boys yelling, “Go get them!” as the gate closed behind us.

After we were out of earshot of the gateway, I looked at Adrissa and asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m a hero to them,” she said softly. “Why couldn’t I have been a hero for my family?”

I bowed my head down a moment before I spoke, “I didn’t have a proper family, but I had friend I called a sister.” I saw that Adrissa looked at me puzzled. “I was barely older than you, when she was killed in front of me on the streets as we held hands.” I looked at my hand encased in a fingerless glove. “I look at what I can do now, and wish that I had the strength, the skills…and wish I had them then. But while I couldn’t save her, or take revenge, I realized that the pain was one that I never—”

“—Wanted to feel again?” Adrissa interrupted.

“”—Never wanted others to feel. We can’t alter the reality of the past, but we can make a difference in the now. I still miss my sister, and it still hurts. But if I can help ease other’s pain or prevent it altogether…I’ll do that.”

Adrissa nodded, “I think I understand. Does your…god help with that.”

I furrowed my brow a for a moment, “My god gives me purpose and focus, but as a god of death, he reminds us to look at our lives, and other lives around it to give it all meaning. There’s a lot to learn from that.”

“This isn’t one of those things that I’ll understand when I’m older is it?” Adrissa asked.

“I’ll let you know when I get that old,” I said, and we continued our march into foothills of the Ironroot Mountains.

---

“So, no sign of our quarry yet?” Rosa asked as we rested. It was near the end of the day already, and had little to show for it, beyond sore legs.

“I’m used to tracking criminals…not foilage,” The Blade said annoyed.

“He not wrong,” Mobad spat.

“What do you know about this area Adrissa,” Doxx asked, unusually respectful.

“The higher up, there are supposedly caves,” Adrissa said looking around nervously, never noticing Doxx’s unusual behavior. Supposedly good game, but most hunters avoid this place.”

“Perhaps the caves are where we should start, if we don’t have somewhere better to look,” Sage suggested.

“Why do the hunters avoid it?” Doxx asked. “There seems to be game here.”

“It’s not the game, it’s the predators.” Adrissa said. “They come down from the Ironroots to hunt."

Sage looked at the shear rock walls leading upwards. “How? There doesn’t seem to be a lot of paths leading down to this valley.”

“They don’t walk down from the peaks.”

“You mean they fl---URGK” Mobad grunted. I turned to look at the grey orc, and I was shocked at what I saw. A pair of talons gripped onto his shoulders, supporting the reptilian bulk of a dragon like creature. It roared in delight, and as it did so, a barbed tail erupted from Mobad’s stomach, spurting venom and blood in the open air.

“Wyverns!” shouted Adrissa, and The Blade wasted no time and moved firing a pair of arrows at the beast, each striking the beast in the chest, followed by a pair from Adrissa’s bow. Sage ignited his blade and twisted around, to strike a second beast who was gliding in for a silent strike against Rosa. It roared in pain, and snapped at the warforged, its maw gnawing on Sage’s shield. Its tail whipped around and landed in Rosa’s stomach, she screamed as poison was pumped into her small body. Rosa rolled away from the reptile, and I saw her place a hand on the wound, and the pain on her faces lessened. She scrambled out of reach of the tail, which continued to stab at the ground,where the halfling once lay.

Bookshelf pointed their finger at the wyvern who now stood on top of Mobad’s collapsed form, and a ray of light struck the wing, causing it to glaze with frost. Its shriek echoed in the valley, while Doxx raced in and swung with her staff, landing three blows in quick succession. It whirled rose into the air and thrust its tail at Doxx. Doxx quickly whirled her staff deflecting the strike, and as she did so a beam of light streaked from her weapon striking the Wyvern in the eyes. It twisted around in pain and moved blindly towards the sound of the whirling staff.

I then scrambled over and place a hand on Mobad’s fallen form, and reached out with my light strands, ready to pour energy into him. But as I stretched out with the stands, they slipped around him. I focused harder and tried to knot them, bind them around the wound. I felt the hope drain from me as I realized the truth; that he had already slipped beyond the veil beyond my reach.

The others continued attacking the pair of wyverns; flame and frost, and arrows and light from Doxx’s staff. I gritted my teeth and wiped the tears from my eyes, and then threw a pair of strands at the dragon like beasts, causing dark miasma to form and shroud them as I tore at their souls. I wasn’t angry at them; they were acting as their nature required. But it felt unfair as neither Rosa nor I could do anything to save him from the stealthy assault.

The Blade and Adrissa each used the trees for cover as Sage and Doxx each took a Wyvern and kept them in place. The wyverns slashed and tore at us with tooth and tail, doing little damage. Bookshelf and I kept up our magical attacks on the beasts, while Rosa focused on healing the wounded. While the wyverns were unable to strike at Sage directly, they made attempts at the rest of us, drawing blood from Doxx and battering Bookshelf. I was stabbed by one of their venomous tails, but I was spared being poisoned.

Finally, Sage slashed at his Wyvern and brough it down to earth with a crushing blow from his flaming armblade. At nearly the same time, one of the The Blde’s arrows lodged itself deep in the neck of the second wyvern, causing it to gurgle in pain, before collapsing on to the earth.

The air grew still, and Adrissa dropped her bow and moved to the fallen orc. Mobad lay faced forward with his head turned at an awkward angle, while blood poured from a gaping hole in his back. His eyes were open but had rolled upward and from his mouth poured a river of blood and a thick green fluid, that now covered the forest floor.

“Why didn’t you heal him!?!” Adrissa shrieked at me.

“I…I…tried. His body couldn’t shake off the damaged from his wounds.” I said apologizing.

“He’s taken worse!” Adrissa yelled.

Sage and Doxx rolled Mobad’s still form over, and Sage shook his head. “The stinger went right through his heart. An unfortunate blow.”

“I tried,” I whispered.

“Rosa, can you…can you?” Adrissa begged.

“I’m sorry, but I…I don’t have that power hon,” Rosa said sadly.

“He’s gone.”

*Session Notes:*
So...the player that played Mobad had to back out of the gaming sessions for personal reasons and it was very clear they weren't going to come back.  So he died in a blaze of glory.  While the player was new to the game, Mobad's quiet presence was memorable.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Well that's quite the dramatic way to go!!

(Glad you clarified the circumstances - I'd have felt for the player otherwise.)


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## Nthal

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Well that's quite the dramatic way to go!!
> 
> (Glad you clarified the circumstances - I'd have felt for the player otherwise.)



Exits are tricky, but based on the circumstance there wasn't much to be done.  However, the character was played, even though the player wasn't there anymore.  And a natural 20 was rolled on the tail strike, on a Barbarian who didn't have a moment to rage and failed a con save.

It was a pile of damage that no one was going to come back from.


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## Wilpower784

Pardon the late response….that was unexpected. R.I.P.


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## Nthal

*Pining in the Darkness - 10/21/2021*​

The grey face was calm and composed as it sank into the earth. The strands pulled and pushed the soil in the ground, allowing the cooling body to be interred within. My hands trembled as I did this as I felt my emotions churn within me.

I had killed many in Faerun, each death I tried to honor their passing. But here, in this still strange place to me, everything I had killed was an abomination. A corruption of the natural order. I felt no compunction to worry about their souls…provided they had them.

On the other hand, the souls they took all to make these horrors concerned me quite a bit. Some of them had died horribly in my eyes. Wy, and the others were slaughtered, exsanguinated, flayed… terrible endings for all. With I as their only witness to their passing. So, while I had known Mobad for less time, I felt that his burial was a burial for them all. That his ferocity in life, to survive was the one we all had in ourselves.

I felt guilty though. That I hadn’t done all I could to stop any of their deaths. I could perhaps forgive myself for Wy and the others; we weren’t prepared. But I didn’t do my duty…my responsibility to their souls. And as for Mobad, were I but a bit quicker, more skilled, more…secure in my faith I could have saved him. That I could have made the girl who now had her back to us all safe and secure. A lie we all to readily tell ourselves until its false comfort is ripped away. One of the first lessons of death and life:

_Life and death are temporary; signs a long a long road. Both can start and end without warning or seeming intent. That which appears random, has purpose and meaning, even if you cannot divine what. For does knowing the path’s destination, make the journey easier? Does it have less meaning if one doesn’t know the end?

So, one person’s specific journey; its start, its middle and its end isn’t one to judge or be concerned with. It is what we can learn and take away from that person’s full journey, and how that gives meaning to our own._

The soil ceased to churn, and I knelt into the dirt and recite the litany:

_“No one should be alone, in life or death,
Death is part of life, not an ending but a beginning
Death is without deceit and has meaning,
All should strive to help those to live, 
So, they can die at their appointed time,
I will honor those who have died before me,
For it is their lives and deeds that give us the world today—"_

As I spoke, I realized that my voice was joined by another; Adrissa. She was now on her knee over the soft soil. Her eyes were clear, and the tears dried as she nodded her head and we continued the litany together;

_"Bless this soul at his chosen, appointed time, 
So, his deeds will live forever,
So be the will of my Lord, and my desire in faith
May Death grant you peace.”_

Adrissa turned to look at me and gave a me a weak smile. The rest each looked over the grave keep their own council, until Doxx broke the silence.

“Well…I suppose we should move on before more swoop down upon us,” Doxx said somberly.

“Indeed,” The Blade concurred. “We might have had a different story together in Sharn. It seems that wasn’t our destiny.”

“We should go,” Sage said looking at the sky warily.

“You might want to keep your eyes on the ground. There are other monsters hiding in the mountains here,” Adrissa said standing up. She looked at the group once, and then started off into the woods. Rosa and Bookshelf shrugged and followed her both keeping their thoughts to themselves and together we moved on.




The Ironroot Mountains were nothing more than shear cliff faces descending into the valley. So there was little need to ascend them, instead following the hills that ajoined them. We didn’t see any more monsters, despite us all being jumpy at the slightest pickup of the wind. But as we continued our search, Rosa spoke up.

“Well well…these are awakened tracks…and vegeogre things I think,” she said, looking at a muddy pool with bark and fungus on the surface.

The Blade squatted and pickup some of the bark and examined it, “It’s not logged with muddy water; we must be close.”

_Goss, go up to the treelimbs and tell me what you see on the ground.

--uh…can’t I stay closer to you? Might be safer.

I doubt you qualify as a snack.

--well…can’t be too careful._

Gossamer took flight and flew high in the tree branches, scouting ahead of us. We followed in the same direction, and it wasn’t long before we found something.

_--A campsite…it’s a wreck though._

“A campsite?” I said aloud as the others turned to look at me. “Up ahead.”

The rest nodded, and we slowly made our way forward, trying to keep quiet. This was somewhat of a challenge for Sage, but even he kept the din of his plats and weapons down to a minimum. We quickly found ourselves at the edge of a clearing and were surprised at the camp we found.

First off, it wasn’t a simple hunter blind or travelers camp; the tents and racks here made it more like an expedition to a strange new place, than a simple place to sleep. The tents were large, some eight paces square. And while the canvas fabric was torn and shredded in the weaspon, the insides had wooden cots and tables. In the center of the encampment was a large firepit, with metal grills and iron works to hold pots and a roasting spit.

“What in Dolurrh is this about?” Doxx muttered, as the old woman poked her head in the ruins of the site.

“This isn’t a druids’ camp,” Rosa muttered. “This is like a..a…”

“It’s a basecamp,” The Blade said. “My family sells equipment like this for travellers to Xen’drik. It’s portable in the sense that you can carry it, but its meant to be setup and maintained, and abandoned when time to leave.”

“Who would go through this effort here?” Bookshelf said as they examined the site for clues to its former inhabitants.

“A Dragonmarked House,” Sage said as he pointed to a small pile of crates nearby. “Specifically, House Cannith.”

“Cannith? Here? And why?” Rosa asked aloud.

“Cannith is thought to have…something to the north. Well past my…home.” Adrissa said softly. “Each season wagons would go up the road, and a week or so later, wagons would return. But that was on the main road. I don’t know anything about this.”

“So why here?” Doxx said confused.

I moved around the camp, and then noticed that a ridge of rock projected itself into the clearing. I wandered around it and there in the cliff was the answer.

“Everyone…over here,” I said and soon the rest joined me and saw it.

There in the rock face was a fissure, opening into darkness beyond. On both sides there were piles of boulders, all organized neatly away from the entrance. But here there was signs of a different camp; Lean-to’s and simple domes of lashed strips of bark, and vines, around a small fire.

“A second group?” I said pointing out the obvious. Adrissa started to look around the campsite and her face has a frown on it.

“This is odd,” the girl started. “This is in a little better condition, but both sites were used at about the same time.”

“And tracks lead below,” The Blade said, motioning to the ground. Both the druids and the Cannith groups I imagine.

Rosa looked at the rock face, and then start to examine the pile of boulders set aside and the ground next to them. “The awakened…they cleared the opening. It must have taken a while based on the amount of rocks moved. But…it looks like they helped each other.”

“Why would a bunch of druids help out anyone at all?” Doxx exclaimed. “They tried to kill everyone else.”

“I don’t know,” I said shaking my head. “They must have had a reason to work together.”

“We should proceed below then,” Sage remarked. Bookshelf pulled out his driftglobe and set it aloft so the other could see in the darkness. I pulled on the energy within me, and felt the rush along my spine, and I set a yellow orb of light on Sage’s shield. And with that we entered the fissure.

The opening was a composite of rock and gravel on the rock floor, but not twenty paces in, we realized this was no cave. The passage was easily five paces broad, and the walls were straight carved rock. The main passage had a slope leading deeper into the roots of the mountain. As I turned to look closer at the walls, I realized that they all had carving or glyphs on the walls. Stepping towards the walls I traced my fingers on their forms in the rock. The design wasn’t familiar to me at all, and I felt chills as I touched them.

“What made this place?” I whispered.

“I am not sure,” Bookshelf said quietly. “Its not dwarven for certain. But the carvings aren’t fresh…the dust is thick, and they seem…worn somehow. My guess is Dhakaani.”

“Dhakaani?” I said puzzled.

“The Dhakaani Empire was a ancient goblin nation—” Sage started.

“Nation…ha!” Doxx sneered. “Goblins were just vermin, until humans finally put them into their place.”

“A common misunderstanding,” Sage said reprovingly. “They were more sophisticated than just wandering tribes. Many cities are built on their city’s bones. Sharn is a good example. But…I am not familiar enough with their works to confirm Bookshelf’s supposition. But these carvings are old. Very old.”

“Feels cold to me,” I said. “But let’s keep moving.”

We continued deeper and finally we came to an intersection. Wide passages led left and right, while the passage continued deeper, while turning to the right ahead of us.

Sage pointed with his armblade to the left, saying nothing. The others in our group nodded quietly. Doxx started to move ahead of Sage, staff at the ready as they tip-toed to the edge of the intersection.

“I don’t hear anything,” Doxx whispered, and the old woman stepped into the chamber beyond.

“Awakened don’t make much noise when they are—”

Doxx was then thrown back into the hallway, as the sound of wood and leaves slammed into them, bowling them over. There, coming around the corners were a pair of huge conifers; so out of place here in the depts of this constructed shaft. Filling the tunnel, four of them, plodded towards our group, with one of them clearly pursuing the prone Doxx.

“—not moving,” Rosa said bitterly as the trees lunged to attack us all.


----------



## Wilpower784

Looks like somebody failed a stealth check.


----------



## Nthal

The trees flanking on the door passed theirs.

Doxx's perception check however...well...not everything goes to plan.


----------



## Nthal

*Artifice of the Past - 11/4/2021*​
Doxx rolled to her feet and wiped some blood from her nose. She grimaced at the tree that tossed her like a rag doll and charged back towards the fray. Flames erupted from her hands and engulfed the tree’s extended branches. It flailed about trying to beat the flames out without success, but then instead lashed out at Doxx again, failing to connect with the wily old woman. She danced away from a second one’s clumsy swing, and retreated behind Sage who now charged in, and with his armblade spread green fire across both of Doxx’s assailant’s. He raised his shield and widened his stance, challenging the copse of trees with his metallic bulk.

Behind him, I pulled on dark strands and surrounded the trees with dark miasma, while a beam of white frost from Bookshelf, froze the needles and branches on the one that seemed less singed to my eyes. A pair of snaps from The Blade’s bow and an arrow sunk deeply into the trunks and the broadheads breaching the far side in a shower of splinters. Adrissa, gave a yell, and dropped her bow and ran in with her swords drawn, and she slashed and hacked at Doxx’s first attacker, hewing the leg like roots away, and sinking a blade deep into its trunk. She was unaware of the awakened tree about to pound her into the rock, when a sinewy vine erupted from Rosa’s hand, and she pulled the Awakened into Sage, who quickly slashed, nearly cleaving the trunk into two as it crashed lifeless to the ground.

The two other trees plodded forward and swung at Adrissa and Sage; Adrissa yelped as the tree branches scraped her arms withdrew drops of blood. Sage flexed and a blue barrier flashed and shimmered, blocking a dangerous overhead strike from landing on the shoulders of the warforged. Sage then slammed with his shield and knocked his foe off balance. Doxx took that opportunity to dart in with her staff, and swung it hard against the midsection of the tree, causing it to stagger clumsily. Two more snaps from The Blade’s bow, sunk deeply into the trunk of the tree, toppling it, leaving one left.

I focused again and flung a dark strand onto the remaining tree, surrounding it with miasma, just as Bookshelf froze its trunk with a layer of hoarfrost. Adrissa moved and cut again at the roots of the plant, causing them to ooze thick dark sap, and Adrissa rolled backwards to avoid a counter strike. As the tree attempted to smash the girl, Rosa again used a vine, and ensnared a branch and puling it back again, slamming into Sage Redoubt who stopped it cold with a stab with his armblade. The blade pierced deeply into the wood, which burst into splinters and glowing green embers, as the trunk split into two and fell to the stone unmoving.

The tunnel grew quiet, with only the sound of our labored breathing echoing off the walls. We looked at each other, and Rosa moved to quickly heal the injured Adrissa and Doxx. Meanwhile Sage pivoted and turned his shield to light up the chamber. The yellow light illuminated a room with stone tables at varying heights. Some would be the right height for a person to sit at or perhaps stand at. But an equal number of the tables were far larger; even an ogre would have trouble looking over their tops. Among the tables, were leather and wool bedrolls and blankets, and a small cooking fire with an iron pot set on the cold ashes.

_--You know, you make a lot of noise._

I turned to glare at the Tressym, sauntering in on his paws, unconcerned.

So helpful. Keep in the hall and follow us discretely. I want to know if someone sneaks in behind us.

_--Sure sure…I’ll always watch your back. And with that my familiar started to prowl out of the room to keep watch._

“Another druid camp?” Doxx asked Rosa, who nodded in silent reply.

“What’s with these tables?” Adrissa said aloud as she walked under one of the large ones.

“Who knows what the Dhakaani did here,” The Blade remarked.

“But the tables are too large for any goblinoid; even the bugbears couldn’t use them,” Sage pointed out.

“Maybe it isn’t Dhakaani,” Bookshelf said. “Could they be…older?”

I blinked, “I’m the foreigner here…what are we talking about?”

Sage turned to me, “Eberron’s history is divided into eras. This is the modern era, before that is the Era of Monsters; before humans came to this continent. That was when the Dhakaani held sway. But before that, it was the Era of Giants.”

“The Giant’s ruled the world, and had slaves,” The Blade said with tones of sorrow on his voice. “My people. Until we rebelled and were almost annihilated.”

“Almost? What happened?” I asked.

“The dragons,” The Blade answered. “They taught the giants magic, and they brought them down. But not before we took what we needed and escaped.”



“Well…these tables could be right for giants,” Doxx said. “I’m not a student of history, but at Rekenmark, I remember a discussion of giant fortifications…but they were all based on places in Xen’drik. Nothing here in Karnnath.”

“Well, they all must be deeper within then,” Adrissa said, as she finished examining the bedrolls on the ground.

“She’s right, we’re wasting time,” The Blade said. We all turned around and crossed the hall and entered another chamber. Again, the strange sets of tables, and a campsite. But this one had small desks, and cots not just bedrolls.

“Clearly, more Cannith’s belongings,” Rosa said her lips pursed into a frown. “Seems the druids and they are partners, but don’t trust each other.”

Adrissa bent down and looked at the one of the cots. “Well, I would say that the druids are in charge now.”

“And how would you know that?” Doxx exclaimed in disbelief.

“They have dust on the cots. The druids’ bedrolls don’t.” Adrissa said simply.

“That would indicate something happened to them,” Bookshelf noted quietly. Looking around the room a moment they continued. “This little camp doesn’t show any gear that would be useful for maintaining weapons or armor. I don’t remember any on the surface either.

“They weren’t expecting trouble,” Sage said grimly. “It seems that the druids might have taken them by surprise. Their trees would have been problematic for unskilled soldiers or guards.

“Let’s continue down then,” Doxx said impatiently. “I don’t like this.”




I refreshed the light on Sage’s shield, we continued down the passageway down. It started to curve to the right, and we descended deeper. The air grew warmer as we continued, and I felt on edge more than normal. Sensations stroked my spine, giving me chills strong enough to make me shiver. I swallowed and looked at the others, to see if it was my imagination.

It was clear that everyone was on edge, but nothing more than usual. But I noticed that The Blade was twisting his head around a lot, and that he clutched the amulet he wore under his jerkin. He shifted It by the cord side to side as if it was chafing the elf. I was about the ask him about it when suddenly, a flash of light caught my eye. At about the same time, The Blade hissed and pivoted around, with an arrow notched and his bow held level, half drawn. I looked around confused, and then I saw the flash again, on the walls, brief and faint.

“Bookshelf; douse your globe a moment,” I asked.

“What’s the problem?” Sage asked still looking ahead.

“I need to see the tunnel, without all the lights” said. “I will need to dispel the light on the shield as well.”

“Only some of us can see in the dark you realize?” Doxx complained.

“It won’t be long. Bookshelf?” I responded and looked at the slender warforged. They nodded and with a quick word, the driftglobe doused itself and returned to their hand. I then focused a moment and pulled in the light from Sage’s shield.

The tunnel of course now was as bright as day to me; but no shadows danced across the walls. Doxx, Rosa and the warforged looked around nervously, unable to see, while Adrissa, The Blade and I looked around. Unconsciously we held our breathes, not knowing what to expect and waited. Then, it happened.

“What is that ahead of—” Adrissa started. Everyone turned, and there in the passage was a halo of light that pulsed up the passage from the depths. It was a simple quick flicker, that illuminated the rune like carvings on the wall. But it passed quickly behind us. To my eyes, I could see that the runes remained lit for only a brief moment, before fading.

“I…saw that,” Doxx whispered.

“As did I,” Rosa acknowledged.

We waited and then another pulse from the depths passed us. As it did, I felt the chill waft through me. I then turned to look at the Blade, and as yet another pulse flew past us, I saw him shift his head again. “Something…is hurting you Blade?” I asked

“The Blade. Yes. My amulet is…it feels like it’s burning my neckline.” He responded with irritation on his voice.

I stepped to the wall, and waited and as the light flashed by my, I felt the chill grow stronger. Taking a deep breath, I placed a hand on the wall. It was dry and dusty of course, but it was surprisingly warm as well. I traced a finger into the carving, when the light flew up from above. As the edge of light touched my hand my vision was flooded with color, and I yanked it back in pain. Smoke poured from my palm as I felt the remainders of searing agony, followed by numbness and chills, that coursed through the bones of my hand. I turned it over, and tried to flex my fingers, and found them slow to respond.

“Myrai!” Rosa yelped in concern. Bookshelf reignited his driftglobe and she moved to me and took my hand. Upon doing so she grimaced and hissed through her teeth. “Your hand! It…hurts.”

“I know that—“ I started.

“No…your hand hurt me, just as I touched it.” Rosa responded.

I looked at my hand for a moment trying to process it, and raised it again to the wall, but this time not touching it. I could barely see the waves of light as they passed. When they did, I could feel them tug on some of my strands, but others recoiled. I closed my eyes and concentrated a moment, and I realized that it was the few strands that I felt were a part of me, and not my connection to the Apocrypha. That part of me deep inside that claimed my soul as an Aasimar.

And it was revolted at not the light, but whatever pushed it along the walls. I could feel then that it was masking something. There hiding behind it was a presence. Something malevolent. Something that seethed with hatred.

“There is…something…wrong about what is causing this light,” I said to the others as they looked at me with concern. Rosa took my hand and was gingerly looking and feeling it for more injuries. “But it isn’t the light itself. It’s like feeling the heat from a fire, but your hand isn’t near the flame itself. The light is result of some activity, and that activity is…well…its not from here. And it really doesn’t like me.”

“I think you might be overreacting a bit,” Doxx said dismissively.

Adrissa looked at me and impulsively walked to the wall and reached out and touched it near where I did and waited.

“That doesn’t mean it’s safe to touch!” Doxx hissed. But Adrissa shrugged after a wave of light passed.

“I feel a tingle…but that’s all.”

“Then what is it with my…” The Blade started and trailed off, not willing to explain.

“Because…it and I are touched by celestials.” I said and turned to look down the corridor descending. “And whatever this place is, doesn’t like that.”

“So, what do we do?” Adrissa asked confused.

“We continue downwards, and pray,” I said with the rest nodding or shrugging as I flexed and placed the light back on Sage’s shield.

We descended deeper, and ahead of us we saw a flash. It created for my eyes this weird reaction of lighting everything with shadows, which then the shadows disappearing as the ‘darkness’ returned. At least that’s how I thought people with normal vision saw it. We slowed our progress until Sage turned around and said, “Douse the lights.” We then proceeded forward quietly.

The corridor leveled out, and we crept up and huddled at the corridor entrance to a large room. Inside on a center pillar, covered in runes and sigils was a crystal that spun round and round. From one end was a cone of light that swept across the floor in the room. Stepping closer I could see that there were four other pillars spaced around the room, also covered with sigils. On top of these was a cone, plated in some type of shiny metal. Across from us, was what appeared to bars, or perhaps a portcullis. While to our right were a pair of closed doors, but the scale of them was at least three to four times my own height. The light reflected off the dull metallic surface as it swept the floor in front of it.

“Don’t step into the light,” Doxx said.

Bookshelf turned to look at the old woman, “Why?”

“Probably is a trap,” she replied in an annoyed huff.

Bookshelf shook their head and opened a panel in his wrist and pulled out a slender length of steel with a yellow crystal. He flicked it, and the crystal flared to life, and the warforged eyes glowed blue. Replacing the wand, he surveyed the room for a moment before speaking again.

“Well, if that is true, there isn’t anything magical about it—” Bookshelf started.

“--He’s right. We should stay in the shadows of those columns,” The Blade said confidently. The light swept by where we stood and he quickly dashed into the room, and took position by a column to the left, his body pressed against the column in the shadows so the light couldn’t touch him.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Rosa said. “You’re afraid of a light.”

The Blade sprinted to the second column on the right, placing him closer to the barred entryway. Meanwhile, Doxx moved and took position on the right column in the same way that The Blade did.

“No. They aren’t kidding,” Rosa said exasperated. As she said that, Adrissa followed in The Blade’s path to the first column. The Blade however didn’t move as he seemed to survey the far side of the room.

Bookshelf, pulled out from leather satchel a copper wire and spoke aloud. “The Blade, what do you see? You can reply to this message.” The warforged then stood silent and nodded quietly.

Sage blinked, and then poked Bookshelf, “You might need to tell the rest of us.”

“Oh. Right. There are some levels on the central pillar opposite the gate, and out of our view from here. Inside the gate there is a room, and he thinks there are some figures within, reclining.

“Prisoners I bet! We should help them!” Rosa said, but Sage held her back.

“Are they moving? You can reply to this message.” We all stood there waiting. I used this spell a lot and I was happy for once, not to be in the middle. On the otherhand, not controlling the conversation is irksome, so I was not going to make it messier.

Bookshelf spoke again slowly, “They are very still. He thinks they are dead.”

Rosa now was getting more agitated and started to walk into the room. “This is going to take—” and she halted at the sound of Doxx’s voice.

“Rosa!” Doxx hissed from his pillar and still staying in the shadows. “Stay out of the—"

The light swept over Rosa. We all held our breaths and listened. We didn’t hear gongs, or roars or the stomping of many feet. Nothing changed about the light which spun as before unaltered in pace or color. Rosa then turned and glared at the old woman who fell silent simply shrugging her shoulders. Sage, Bookshelf and I stepped into the light and the same nonevent occurred. The light didn’t hurt me at all, and I guessed it was just a simple light and not the source of my earlier pain.

Adrissa growled in frustration, and walked to the center column, as Doxx and The Blade moved around the pillars and out of the shadows. She looked at it and said aloud, as Rosa walked past her to get to the gate, followed by Sage. “So…three levers. One probably opens a door or something.”

“Adrissa, we don’t know what—” The Blade started as Adrissa reached out and pulled the middle lever.

The light in the center of the room spun faster, and its color shifted from white and darkened to a deep red. Then I heard hissing sounds, as the conical objects elevated slighting, and spun around in place. On each one, several of the plates split open up and exposed a hollow which was quickly filled with a barbed point of metal. Each one of the cones quickly exposed four of these barbs each.

“—that will do.” The Blade finished glumly, as the room suddenly was filled with the sound of high-pitched whistles, as the barbed metal bolts were rapidly fired into our midst.

*Session Notes:*
Technically, it took about an hour in real time from discovering the room, to the point that combat started.  Sometimes the best drama is player created, but I honestly don't think this was as intended.  Adrissa and Rosa were both a little fed up on the checks to dodge the light and moving around, and trying to use message to communicate next steps becauseone wanted to make noise.  So it was a relief when the shooting started.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

> So it was a relief when the shooting started.




So often the case.

Good stuff as ever Nthal. Some interesting threads to unravel.


----------



## Wilpower784

_Insert “Don’t Walk Towards The Light” joke here_


----------



## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> _Insert “Don’t Walk Towards The Light” joke here_



It was more of an Indiana Jones reference that EVERYONE knows...and expected that to be the trap.

An hour was spent maneuvering around that light.  The DC for dodging was unknowable because it didn't exist; just concerned DM looks when the role was low.  But everyone was convinced it was dangerous, and the DM played along and let them have that fantasy.   

But then Adrissa (my daughter) and Rosa had enough.  Can't blame them; and at the end it added an amount of comedy to the whole thing too and we all laughed.  But that comedy is outside the game.  Makes retelling the story a little challenging.

Now if this was a book, this is a part where an editor tells you to cut.  But since its a retelling of a campaign, the details aren't so bad...when you have context.


----------



## Nthal

Morte d'Cannith​

I ran towards a pillar, putting my shield over my head. Sage did much the same, but his shield was far larger, and was able to provide cover for both Adrissa and Rosa. I saw the Blade was behind another pillar, and was ducking behind it, and loosing a shot at the metal construct across from him. Glancing over I saw that his arrow struck it, and now was spinning in a circle, as the device spun, and continued to spray out more bolts across the room.

Looking back across to Doxx, I saw the old woman pressed against another pillar, seemingly safe from the constructs, when I noticed something. The device that was on Doxx’s pillar made a hissing noise. The top then elevated upwards, raising the body up on a thin stalk. Then I saw the body fall forward, until the body was at right angles compared to the ground, and it began to spin up again.

“Doxx! Above you!” I yelled. The woman looked up and mouthed something and rolled towards the middle pillar. Following him, barbed metal bolts followed her in a line, embedding deep into the floor. She continued to run, attracted more bolts from the other three contraptions.

“Just stop already,” Adrissa said between gritted teeth, as she leaned out and shot a pair of arrows, piercing the metal of one of our assailants. Inside there was the hideous sound of grinding gears and metal. I reached inside for a pair of strands and manifested a pair of violet bolts of energy, and I threw them at the same one. They both struck home, and the contraption fell over sideways, while the middle section slowed, and then stopped spinning.

I smiled a moment, and I heard the noise of a spinning construct grow louder. I barely had time to raise my shield up over my head, as number of bolts bounced off the metal. The impacts caused my arm to ache as I held it in position. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a cold white beam from Bookshelf, streaking overhead, I saw chunks of ice fall to the ground, after bouncing off my shield. Meanwhile The Blade fired two more arrows at the same device, as he ran to the middle pillar for new cover. As he did so I heard the sounds of broken springs snapping apart followed by a grinding noise which quickly stopped.

“Don’t these things have a limit to the number of barbs they can shoot at us?” Rosa asked as she crouched low beneath the Juggernaut.

“An excellent quest—ARGH” Doxx responded, as she batted a barb out the air with her staff, only to have one lodge into her arm. Sage stepped out a moment, and from his forearm the three yellow crystals spun around it, each launching a bright bolt of light, and each unerringly striking the construct. Adrissa followed up with a pair of arrows from. The pair pierced the metal skin and disappearing inside, causing it to stop rotating. The sounds of whirs and clicks and broken springs faded, along with the echo’s of hundreds of the barbed projectiles, tumbling around on the floor.

“Anyone else hurt?” Rosa asked as moved to tend Doxx’s wounds.

“I believe…the rest of us were lucky and avoided harm,” I said surveying the others. Lowering my shield reluctantly, I walked over to the center pillar to examine the levers. Looking at the trio, the right most one was down, and the other two were up. “Adrissa, which lever did you pull?”

“The right one,” she answered.

“Let’s not pull that one again then,” Doxx said rubbing his healed shoulder.

“Of course not! The middle one is the obvious choice!” ‘The Blade said as he reached past me and pulled the lever. Too late, I slapped at his hand away as I heard the sound of metal-on-metal grinding, echoing throughout the room.

“We should probably refrain from pulling levers until we do a cursory examination,” Sage pointed out as he placed his shield in front of himself, and pivoted, watching the tops of the pillars again.

“Why would anyone build a set of levers where, two of them trigger the same trap?” The Blade admonished. “That would be insane.”

“What about a different trap?” Bookshelf asked calmly.

The Blade blinked and was silent for a moment before shaking his head, “That doesn’t even make sense. A second trap is worse than the first by definition. You obviously use your best trap in a room. So, there isn’t a point to having a second.”

“Let’s just not pull the third, until we know what that one did,” I said turning my head to listen. It wasn’t long, when I turned to the sound of metal sliding against each other, as the portcullis descended deeper into the rock, and opening up the rom beyond. As the rods sunk in level with the floor, Sage and I with shields in front of us stepped inside, with the others close behind. All except ‘The Blade’ who remained by the pillar.

Sage pivoted his shield, causing the light to sweep across the ground. There, on straw mats, lay the bodies of men and women, perhaps eight in all. As Sage kept watch around me, I knelt over to look at one.

It was a woman, with dirty blond hair. She lay curled up on her side in a fetal position, her face contorted in pain. Her skin was pulled taunt, and her eyes were sunk deep into her sockets. Her stomach was distended, and her limbs were painfully thin. Her arm showed signs of being cut multiple times, and the stain of blood covered her forearm. This was a face of death I was familiar with, and it was an unpleasant way to die. But then noticed in the straw, the edge of a book. I first, closed her eyes with my hand as I whispered “Please ensure her passing beyond was uneventful. I then slowly pulled the text away, sliding it out of the straw and out from underneath her. Standing I opened it and started to read the contents.

“What happened to them?” Doxx asked me.

“They weren’t fed or watered or watered much,” I said choking on the words. “So, they were starving. It’s a hard way to die, but that’s not all. She’s been bled and then left here to…well.”

“These also look like they were bled nearly dry,” Rosa said examining the others. “Treated like animals,”

“Less than,” Bookshelf corrected, before the warforged moved over to me. “What’s the book?”

“Well…assuming that these words are months…it’s a journal. It says…”



> *Rhaan 14th,*
> 
> This all seems like a wild goose chase. First some hedge hipster comes out of the wilds months ago asking about a book, and now that same hipster says he found one of the stations mentioned?
> 
> The “Great Dhakaani Machine” is just mad scribbling by an idiot gnome from Trolenberg. I don’t believe the Dhakaani built anything resembling what was described in his book. It doesn’t make any sense. First it is nowhere near where the Dhakaani Empire once stood. Yes they ruled the continent, but that is like saying that Galifar ruled the Demon Wastes; In name only.
> 
> So here I am in Denning getting stocked up on camp supplies for this folly of ‘Research’ I’ll have to see about bringing a keg of the ale with me.
> 
> *Rhaan 17th, *
> 
> The damned druid was right about something! It took some of the treemen several days to clear the boulders hiding the passage below. It clearly wasn’t natural. But it wasn’t like a mine tunnel either. This was finely carved; the details are extraordinary, if a little odd. It seems decorative, but there is so much of it everywhere. Why bother?
> 
> And why here? This is still in the middle of nowhere. It also amazing that Finn found this place. But it seems being a druid has advantages in changing forms and squeezing between the rocks.
> 
> We moved our camp from the outside to two adjacent rooms just down the main passage. From there we will continue exploring the depths.
> 
> *Sypheros, 2nd,*
> 
> The door that blocked us at the bottom took some doing to breach. The treemen tried beating it open, but the stone was having none of that. Fortunately, there are other ways, and the crumbling door opens up the tunnel below. Nothing that a quality artificer can’t handle.
> 
> Beyond was a large chamber with only a single of side chamber. The amount of dust and debris is incredible, like fine sand from a beach. It’s going to take weeks to remove it. There is another large metal door, blocking our way, and it appears to be locked. But with all this sand, it will have to wait.
> 
> Aryth 23rd ,
> 
> I will never go to the beach again. This stuff gets everywhere! My small clothes itch all the time.
> 
> Fortunately, Finn was able to help us move the sand out quickly; his stamina is great, but his servants are even better. It took a lot of time, and magic but the sand is out. I do look forward to his return, if for nothing else he would be a nice change of conversation. Golen is a bore, and I swear the only reason Wryna is here is…well at least she doesn’t hurt my eyes to look at compared to Golen’s ugly face. Why she spends time with him is beyond me. She’s like his trophy researcher.
> 
> Perverts.
> 
> We are now ready to work on the door below; it is intricate series of mechanism and enchantment. Finn said we should wait for his return before working it. I have to agree with that assessment. It is like nothing I have ever seen before. But when I performed the ritual, I was amazed on the raw magical power I saw. Not the door itself, but beyond it! It was almost blinding, and that is with a magically constructed door in the way.
> 
> So, we wait. I’m going to investigate this place more thoroughly.
> 
> *Vult 17th,*
> 
> I have had more time to look at the ruins while Finn is gone. I have come to the firm conclusion that the book was wrong. This isn’t Dhakaani. This is far older. Maybe from the Age of Giants. The rooms are large enough, and we don’t really know much about that time. The Giants certainly left Xen’Drik at various times on their own business, so it is possible.
> 
> But I am certain about one thing; this place is here not because it was close to a city or civilization. It is here because the power behind the door is connected to a manifest zone bound here. Ergo, this is here, because the zone is here.
> 
> If I had to guess the zone is one that creates energy; so Mabar is out as is Risa. Fernia or Irian perhaps. We won’t know until the door is open and we have some protection in place.
> 
> *Vult 23rd,*
> 
> Finn knows more that he is telling. He strode in today and produced a what he called ‘a lesser key.’ That might have been the most useful thing that came out of that book. I know he read that book as well, but actually have one of the keys is remarkable. The book said several things about the greater and that there were a number of lesser keys. I should have convinced Framlin to let it go with us, but he wouldn’t budge. Damned bureaucrat.
> 
> But, the key safely opened the door, but only after reducing the energy within. I am guessing that without a key, most magical defenses would have been annihilated. But even at reduced levels, it is now clear that this a very powerful manifest zone for Irian.
> 
> But the room is extraordinary; a maze of tubes and what appears to be living material, all bound into a lattice around the zone. On one edge is a platform. I almost thought it was an altar of some type, but it appears to be a broken control panel. Smashed by a part of the ceiling collapsing.
> 
> Fortunately, the piping can be fixed, and I’ll look at the panel and see if it can be repaired. If Finn is right, this is an Eldritch Machine. What it does is a bit unclear, but I am sure after we make repairs it will be a simple matter to understand.
> 
> Finn has brought someone new with him a woman named Tracia to help us. She has some more plant servants and some other people with her. If they can do the heavy lifting so much the better.
> 
> *Zarantyr 7th,*
> 
> I was wrong. The control panel isn’t just a panel. It is also an altar. One with sacrifices made. Blood is a key component, but as I quickly discovered it is a catalyst, not fuel. Once the machine is powered and primed, it will just run. It just takes a bit of blood magic to start the process.
> 
> The panel is nearly repaired. It took a while to get a Siberys shard of the proper shape to fit. The controls are working, although we are all a little tired from the work. The blood required isn’t large, but we have all needed to give a bit. Tracia and her friends included. Once we understand how to trigger the final sequence, we will be able to turn it on fully.
> 
> But I did make another discovery today. Actually two. The first is that this not an Eldritch Machine. It is a PART of one. A very large one. Once we fitted the piping together, the energy generated by the zone was quickly siphoned off and directed elsewhere. The energy isn’t staying here. A quick assence with magical detection showed that the siphon was taking energy away from here, to someplace north. But I also found that there was some resistance on the flow. This tells me that there are other contributors as well, pushing energy on the same pipeline.
> 
> The second thing I learned, is that Tracia knows this, but is lying about it. She’s a terrible liar in fact. I think she does know what this machine is for. Or at least whatever Finn has told her, and he has told her more than us.
> 
> But I’m not sure it is a problem; Finn has helped Cannith in this great discovery. Together we will be famous!
> 
> *Olarune 8th*,
> 
> I don’t have much time.
> 
> I was so wrong.
> 
> About this machine.
> 
> About who built it.
> 
> About what was originally for.
> 
> About what it does now.
> 
> About what it will do soon.
> 
> About Tracia.
> 
> About Finn.
> 
> I sit here in this cage, waiting to die.
> 
> The others are already dead, exsanguinated to start the machine up and left to starve and rot.
> 
> I am next.
> 
> I am the last.
> 
> I am so sorry.
> 
> I write vainly in hopes that someone stops this.
> 
> Not Finn.
> 
> Not what he is going to do.
> 
> But about the unintended consequences he will unleash.
> 
> 
> 
> May the Silver Flame protect us all.
> 
> Sylannis d’Cannith






I looked at the others confused, “When is ‘Olarune’?” I asked.

“It’s the current month,” Sage answered. “Today is what, the 17 th ?”

“It’s’ the 18th,” Adrissa said somberly. “I kept track.”

“This happened when we under your ranch then,” Doxx said thinking for a moment.

“Finn…Morrigon Finn. He’s been planning this a while.” Rosa said quietly.

Bookshelf turned to look at the diminutive druid, “These druids, or at least that one knew you. What’s going on?”

Rosa’s eyes widened in alarm, “They…they’re wrong. I don’t know them. I don’t know why they claim to. And I certainly don’t know anything about this. This is…evil. There isn’t another word for it.”

I looked at Rosa my brow furrowed, “I believe you when you say that. But you do know something don’t you?”

“Just that Finn was a member of a tolerant group of Children of Winter.”

“Not anymore,” Sage said dissatisfied.

“I never met him…ever…my…friend did though, and she…had a relationship with him a long time ago.”

“So, what? They drifted apart?” I asked.

“Yes…but…she mentioned he got married I think…but it’s been a while. But that’s all I know!” Rosa said defensively, speaking faster and faster in desperation.

“I’m..I’m sorry. I just feel we are missing something,” I said frustrated. “But there is only one thing to do.” As I looked at the others. “We need to get that door open.”

*Session notes:*
Yeah...the light wasn't the problem.  Levers though?   Should have had a sign that said 'Wet paint'   But we begin to see the edges of a plan and a direction to go.  But first...down.


----------



## Nthal

*A Key Lost*​
I went to work, and laid each of the Cannith housemates to rest.  Adrissa helped me, as I placed coppers on each eye and whispered a quick litany for each of them.  I felt a little guilty in rushing and doing them all as a group, instead of each one alone.  But I was sure that my god understood; the needs of the living were urgent and pressing.  My ministrations of the dead was important perhaps more to me I supposed.  The dead here might not have cared that I performed what I believed to be a sacred duty.  I had no idea what these people believed to be their afterlife.  I knew that many believed that their souls travelled to Dollurh, but Sylvannia I wasn’t sure about.  Her writings mentioned something about the “Silver Flame” and while I had heard about that in passing, I didn’t know what it meant.

“Sage, what is the ‘Silver Flame’ exactly?” I asked.

Sage turned to look at me and shrugged, “It’s a belief founded in Thrane.  Bookshelf might know more as he spent more time there.”

Bookshelf’s head snapped to attention at the mention of their name, “Well…yes I did.  But I was never a ‘Flamer’; they didn’t really encourage warforged to be members.  But they were founded by an event where a human, Tira Miron bound an overlord of darkness and flame into a ‘Silver Flame.’  Since then the church has built a city around it called Flamekeep, and the Speakers of the Flame have resided there ever since.  But people that die believe they join the Flame, and fight evil as part of it.”

“And not go to Dollurh…is that right?”

“I suppose,” Bookshelf said.  “We only were taught that mages with ‘divine’ type spells were different that wizards.  The theology behind the religions were never important.”

“We were built as…tools for the war,” Sage informed me.  “A tool should care nothing for why an acolyte from Flamekeep does what they do; just that they can.  Anything else was seen as irrelevant.”

“And now?  Is it relevant to you…either of you now?”

Bookshelf was silent a moment as Sage and they looked at each other.  “Not really.  It seems illogical that a being of such might cares about people.  They certainly don’t care about me.  I doubt the gods are real.”

“However, the Flame is real,” Sage said.  “Tira did bind something; all the military texts describe how the forces of the era were insufficient to halt the overlord.   Visiting Flamekeep, pilgrims can see the Flame itself.  But as to their beliefs, or the less concrete ones of the Sovereign Host or any of the rest; it seems too abstract to be useful.”

“But this…overlord that Tira bound.  It was real?” I asked trying to make sense of the story.

“It was,” Sage said.  “Supposedly a creature from the earliest days.  And supposedly not the only one, but I’m not up that history.  Wasn’t important in training, and I doubt any texts exist on strategy or tactics.”

“History was a distraction, unless immediately useful,” Bookshelf concurred.

I looked at the bodies in the room and sighed.  I really felt I should know more, understand more so I inter them properly.  But I knew that I was ignorant about a lot of things here.  These religions, plus the Blood of Vol were so different from what I knew.  And while I had more than just faith, I had some measure of proof about my god’s existence it made me wonder.  Their faiths were truly abstract belief; they had no proof.  No events like the ‘Godswalk’ on Toril.  No chosen.  Power from the gods was without question, as a god would revoke if they were slain or did not feel a person was worthy of their power.  But here…I wasn’t sure.  Rosa and I supposed Morrigon venerated the wild nature of the world.  Each was I hoped in opposition in terms of morality.  But that morality didn’t impact their ability to work magic.  Was it the same for others that claimed to have divine power?

Having no answers, I left the impromtu mass grave, and returned to the room with the revolving light.  I then turned to the large door on the side of the room.  Unlike the stone work here, the door had seen better times.  Its metal surface was pitted and corroded, with tears of bright purple streaks dripping from the larger ones.  The metal surface was dark, with a dim purple sheen.   On the center of it was a runed disc, that was separated into five distinct rings.   Stepping closer I looked at the runes, but none of them meant anything to me as the letters were unfamiliar.  I placed my hand on the Apochcrypha and started to whisper to myself to see if these sigils meant anything.  Meanwhile the others moved and stood beside me.

“That’s a big door,” Doxx said pointing out the obvious.

“What’s with the runed circles?” Rosa asked, wiping away tears from her eyes from the graves below.

“It looks like a lock mechanism,” Sage said.  “Turn each ring to a position and it opens.”

“Logical.  But what is that?” Bookshelf asked as they pointed to an indentation in the middle, which had a finger width shaft extending into the middle of the door.

“A keyhole?” Adrissa said squinting at it. “It’s higher up than most of us can reach.”

“Sounds about right for the rest of the furnishings.” Doxx said.

“How do we—”

“There is only one possible answer!” The Blade said triumphantly as he pulled the last lever on the pillar.

“What did you—“ Rosa started as the humming and grinding of metal echoed throughout the room.   We all looked around in dread, waiting for more barbed bolts to be fired at us in quick succession.   We waited as the sounds finally ground to a halt, and with a final clang the noise ceased.

“There could have been another trap you fool!” Doxx said stomping over and waggling her staff at The Blade.  “You could have—” and as Doxx started to tear into The Blade, the room went darker, as the spinning light finally was extinguished.

“See?”  The Blade beamed.  “I told you a second trap would be ludicrous and a waste of a good trap.”

“That doesn’t help us now does—” Doxx continued, unsatisfied that she couldn’t fully vent her frustrations.

As Doxx was yelling, Bookshelf took a closer look at the door, and they reached forward and pushed on the metal plate.  To their surprise, the door moved easily, swinging away from us.  It made no noise as it moved aside and exposed a tunnel descending down, with more light pulsing on the walls.  The door swung and finally halted with a dull boom, which Doxx failed to heed.

“—You’re pulling random levers, while we stare at—” Doxx sputtered.

“—Doxx—” I said.

“—This massive obstruction to our—”

“—Doxx honey?” Rosa said calmly tring to get her attention.

“—progress.  Can’t you stop a moment and—”

“DOXX!” Several of us raised our voices, which got the old woman to turn around and blink in surprise.

“Ah…good.   Glad we fixed that.” Doxx said putting on a smile.  “Shall we?”

I rubbed my temples, trying to get ahead of the dull pain I knew I was going to feel.

_Gos?  Nothing behind?

--Oh hey!  You REMEMBERED ME.

Gos…please…not now.

--But yeah.  Nothing but fine grains of dust, the occasional burst of planar energy and more dust.

Well it can’t be…wait.  Planar?

--Yep planar.  I know we are near a doorway somewhere.  The borders raises up my hackles.

I’m going to recall you.

--Huh?  Wait wait! Don’t—_

I quickly yanked on a white and black strand and pulled Gossamer to me, and dismissed him from the world.  The last thing I wanted was for him to be stranded on the wrong side of a door.  “Sorry Gos…” I muttered, and we then started to move down the tunnel deeper into the rock.

It was a fairly steep descent, and we moved slowly to avoid slipping.  My boots were well worn and held their grip we enough.  As we descended with the driftglobe up behind us, and might light on Sage’s shield ahead, I noticed that I could now see the pulsing light on the tunnel walls, streaking away from the bottom.  And I swore, I could even feel it and I wasn’t even touching the walls.  I swallowed and looked around, feeling on edge.

The others seemed to share my unease, Doxx looking around constantly, while The Blade and Adrissa kept their bows ready.  Sage’s back was to me, but his arm blade was behind him, ready to whip it forward in an attack.  That left Rosa who looked around furtively, like a cornered rat.  I found myself watching her most, as she was beyond just jumpy; she looked terrified. 

I moved closer to her and tapped her on the shoulder and leaned down.  “Are you alright?”
She shook her head quickly; “I feel…feel… exposed.  I don’t know why.  Something on the edge of my memory that I can’t place..”  She turned to look me in the eye with a wan smile.  “I’m sure its just me dear.  Don’t worry about me hon.”

I sighed to myself and looked ahead.  Her words did nothing to calm me.  Like her I felt like I was missing something.  But for me it wasn’t an elusive memory.  As we descended, I could feel the strands withing me, vibrate.  Each one twitched in response to the pulses of light pushing past us in the tunnel.  And what I first thought was my imagination, I quickly realized it wasn’t an illusion.  The separation of each pulse was getting narrower, but they were also stronger.  Each pulse pushed on the strands more and more as we continued.  Suddenly, the runes in the hallways started to light up, in a single wave from the depths, and then passed us.  But unlike before the runes only dimmed a bit.

“Something is happening below; we should be ready for a confrontation,” Sage said, voicing the obvious thought in our heads.  Staring ahead, I finally saw that the tunnel opened up into a large chamber.  Sage turned and gestured at his shield and nodded at Bookshelf, “Lights.”  I flexed, and felt the energy flow up my spine, and the light on Sage’s shield winked out, while Bookshelf recovered their driftglobe.  With our lights out, the lit runes on the wall became very clear, and the pulsing was more pronounced.  Sage gestured and pointed at the walls of our tunnel, and we then split up and pressed ourselves against the sides of the tunnel, and we stepped forward into the room.

The chamber was large, and it reminded me of the music hall in the Civic Festhall in Sigil.  The roof was arched, and the floor leveled off into flat arcs, that continued to descend.  As they descended, the room narrowed to a dais, which had a stone structure that looked like a lectern.  Behind it was a large metal door, that gave off a dull boom as it closed, and the sounds of metal scraping came from the door.  On the floor around the door, were the remains of vegeogres, their corpse looked to have been seared with flames.  Near them, lay the much more human corpses of men dressed in homespun robes which were covered in soot.  But standing next to the pile of bodies, were a pair of large awakened trees and another pair of vegeogres.  But in front of them, behind the stone lectern stood a woman.

She was wrapped in leathers that were dyed a deep red, and were festooned with bones and feathers.  Her bare arms were covered in marks, either tattoos or war paint.  Her face was like wise adorned with stripes that gave the impression of a leering skull on her face, surrounded by a shock of black hair with streaks of blonde.  Next to her a staff leaned against the podium, from which hung bits of bone.  She looked up at us, and smiled.  She turned something on the podium with her hand, and then withdrew a small crystal, the width of a thumb and the length of a dirk.

“Finally…Morrigon said you would come.  But its too late.”  She said with a shrill voice, her lips was curled into a snarl.  As she spoke, she casually tossed the crystal behind her, which hit the stone floor and shattered.  She then continued, reaching for her staff which she cradled in her arms, “But he was surprised to see a former colleague to be one to move against him.  As am I.  Did your time on the edge of town soften you?” she spat.

Rosa stepped forward and addressed her.  “Tracia.  It has been a while since I last saw you.  This is a bit extreme though; harvesting people and turning them into fungus?  Marching on towns?  All to bring forward winter?”

Tracia smirked and tilted her head looking at Rosa, “You seemed to understand once. Don’t you remember our last words together in the Gloaming?  ‘Sometimes the world needs a push’ ? ”

“Let us say I have had a lot of time to consider what I said, and perhaps a retraction is in order,” Rosa said, her voice quavering.

Tracia’s smirk was now a vicious grin.  “Now I understand.  Thank you for that clarity of what has…passed between us,” She said speaking slowly and deliberately.”

Rosa suddenly stiffened and looked around herself nervously.  I was unclear on what the significance of what was just said.  And looking at the faces of the others, it was clear that for most of them, whatever was said was a puzzle.  But there was an exception; Doxx.

Doxx, looked at Rosa with confusion, the old woman’s brow knitted together as she stared at Rosa in disbelief.  I could see her mouth a word, but I couldn’t be sure what.  Rosa lips quivered a moment as she stammered, “Whatever;  what’s behind the door?”

“This?” Tracia waved at the door behind her, keeping her eyes locked on us.  “The last part of a machine, long quiet.  And now…active once again.  Soon it will provide us everything we need.  And then the long delayed winter can begin.  Somehow, I bet you would want to do something stupid, like disable it.   But as I already said, it’s too late.  The key is broken, and only Morrigon has another.”

“We will have to pay them a visit then,” Sage said.  “I’m sure Morrigon will talk to us.” 

Tracia shook her head, “By the time you reach him, winter will be here.  But enough of this pointless banter and poor attempts of subterfuge.  Time for all of you to die!”  And her eyes rolled back into her head as she started to chant.

The Blade and Adrissa shared a single thought at that moment, and each loosed an arrow.  They whistled across the room, heading towards the druid, when they suddenly stopped just in front of the dais Tracia stood at.  The arrows tumbled to the ground harmlessly, as the duo swore.  Doxx started to run down towards Tracia, and Adrissa tore after him, discarding her bow.  Sage, started to thunder down to the druid, as the trees and giant fungus started to lumber to intercept.  It was then, that Tracia had finished her spell and a beam of white moonlight descended from above, and struck Rosa. 
She screamed, and fell to her knees, as wisps of smoke drifted from her body.  But as I watched, her form shifted.  Where once Rosa stood, now was short wiry figure, who wore a featureless face with an indistinct nose, and slightly sunken cheeks.  The color of her hair quickly washed away, and became white as ice.  She opened her eyes, which now looked like black pools and her face was contorted in anger.

“I thought so,”  Tracia said triumphantly.  “So nice to see you again…Rhys.”

*Session notes:*
Players accused Melisandre about secrets.  Of course, she knew things.  She knew things that players wanted to be a secret.  In this case there was a lot of elaborate stuff going on, including hiddened character sheets on Dndbeyond with the public 'Rosa' and the private 'Rhys'   This one required a bit of work between the player and the DM to pull off.   The surprise was well worth it.


----------



## Wilpower784

I was wondering when Rosa’s ordeal would come back around. Even looked back at that part not too long ago.


----------



## Nthal

*Becoming Rosa - 12/12/2021*​
I didn’t really have time to process what had happened. Rosa’s form had changed, but that was all. Right now, I was far more concerned with the melee deeper in the room. I flexed and pulled on some strands and tried to wrap them around a tree and vegeogre. But I could feel the strands strike something. The sensation was like a whip striking me, as my arms felt on fire as the strands were repulsed. I gritted my teeth, and hoped I wouldn’t regret my next move, as I ran directly towards the melee. My thinking was simple; find a way past the barrier and then use the strands.

Bookshelf saw my attempts to throw magic at the problem, and quickly followed me. As we got about half way across the room, they reached out their hand and pointed. The frosty white beam came close to one of the trees, but it was stopped about three paces away. Noting that, he made to continue forward.

The Blade and Adrissa were already past that point. Adrissa had discarded her bow, and drew her short swords, and started to slice into a vegeogre, spraying the floor with green-black ichor as she cut deeply into its legs. The Blade shot the same target, the arrow sinking deep into the fungus’ flesh. He then pivoted and loosed another arrow at Tracia. The grin on his face was dashed, when the arrow collided with another invisible barrier, yet the arrow had indeed flew closer to the evil druid than his earlier attempt. Torn on what do next, he continued closed the distance and readied another arrow, ready to assist Adrissa. The vegeogre, twisted and pounded the ground, but Adrissa managed to avoid its wrath. The nearby tree was a little luckier, and thrashed Adrissa with its branches, and drew blood.

Doxx stood there with a dumbfounded look on her face, before turning and swinging her staff at the legs of animated tree. The sharp sound of wood colliding echoed through the chamber, and she spun around, and this time there was the sound of wood cracking, as the tree’s ‘knee’ exploded into splinters. The tree staggered, and nearly fell, while the old woman continued her assault, kicking at the gnarled legs, each one causing more of the wood to crack and split. The vegeogre next to it, swung and found its mark, causing Doxx to grunt as the wind was almost knocked out of her. A second moist fist came down hard on the old woman’s back, but she held her ground with a simple grunt.

Sage however, ignored all the lesser foes and charged onwards. The massive juggernaut thundered down the length of the room until he stood next to Tracia. He towered over the comparatively small druid and swung down his armblade. However, the druid was quick, and the blade and its green flames struck the hard stone, creating a cloud of dust and pebbles in his wake. He retracted the arm blade and prepared to strike again, unconcerned with Tracia’s simple staff.

But Tracia, had other plans. She whispered something in the same language that I heard Rosa use, when she cast a spell. From her open palms, a bright orange light appeared, and stretched into a solid beam of firelight, that bent in a slight curve. She swung at Sage, who quickly I saw throw up a shield to deflect it, but to no avail. The flame found an opening past Sage’s shield and it cut upwards from his abdomen up towards shoulder. The metal plates on Sage glowed a dull crimson and smoke and embers flew from the wood that were underneath the plates. Sage looked down at the druid and said, with stark honesty; “That actually damaged me. I will repay you in kind.”

But before either could respond to the other, when Tracia was almost bowled over by Rosa. She took the form of a large black bear and slashed at Tracia, who managed to only get a superficial scrape, as she dodged the jaws seeking her flesh. Rosa roared in frustration, as she attempted to maul Tracia, to no avail.

I watched this as I stood next to Adrissa and focused on the strands again. This time I managed to get a pair of loops to surround the Awakened tree and the Vegeogre. I could feel the dark energies lash at them, flaying away their whatever life force that held them together. Meanwhile, just behind me I heard some muttering, and I saw a bead of light, fly over my head.

“Oh sodding Baat—” I started as the flames erupted all around us. I but I only felt warmth caress my skin. My flesh wasn’t burned or marked at all, and nor was any of the rest of us. The vegeogres and the trees however were set ablaze. The awakened pine needles and branches were aflame as embers scattered across the room. The vegeogres skin was seared to a crisp, which cracked and flaked off in large chunks, hitting the stone floor in smoking heaps. I then heard a dull voice speak, “Not surprised it didn’t break through the existing barriers.” I turned to look at Bookshelf with confusion, as I had no idea why I wasn’t on fire, or at least in pain.

That would have to discussed later, as the sounds of blades slashing and arrows flying came from Adrissa and The Blade respectively. Adrissa continued to cut at the legs of the vegeogre, now seared by the Bookshelf’s blast. She cut and swung and swung again, cursing at her foe, spraying more fluid across the floor. It staggered for a moment, when The Blade shot it with an arrow, which strike echoed in in the chamber with an explosive snap. The Vegeogre well flat on its front, allowing The Blade to rush over and at close range shot a second arrow into its midsection, causing it to quiver for a moment, before collapsing into a lifeless pile of fungus and rot.

As it died, the awakened near the pair was flailing wildly, its crown of needles and branches ablaze in a column of fire that scraped the ceiling with fingers of smoke. It stumbled and swatted The Blade, who grunted and rolled with the blow. It then tried to move past him towards Bookshelf, but Adrissa cut at its root like legs, her blade cleaving away more wood from it as it staggered towards the warforged. But it wasn’t able to reach its target, because I moved and blocked its path before it could reach them.

The Awakened swung and I felt the heavy wood batter my shield, causing me to stagger a moment. Looking over the top of my barrier I threw a dark strand and created a miasma around it. The dark energy, sapped at its life and even some of the fire for a moment and it halted thrashing side to side. Bookshelf then spread out his fingers, and engulphed the fallen vegeogre and the awakened in flames. This proved to be too much, and the Awakened crashed down upon the stone.

Doxx meanwhile, unleshed her fury on the vegeogre. Her staff swung and cracked the thing’s head with a wet sounding thump, before she pulled it away and thrust it back into its midsection with a resounding thud. Using the lodge staff as leverage, she used it as an acrobat might use a trapeze, and swung her body around the staff, and landed two kicks, across what might be described as a flimsy excuse for a head. She then landed on her feet and pulled her staff out from the vegeogre now covered with cracked and seared skin. It stood unmoving for a moment, before it crashed down backwards, deflating in defeat.

Tracia swung with her fiery blade of orange, and traded blows with Sage, who swung with his armblade of green flame. Both struck the other, the sound of searing flesh, contrasted to the sound of wood cracking from the heat of flames. Just as Tracia was going to swing again, the black bear sank its teeth into Tracia. She yelped in surprise and swatted at the bear, singing Rosa’s fur. Rosa returned the affection, and slapped at Tracia with an open claw, and bellowed again in pain and frustration as she was unable to land a blow.

“Enough of this,” and I ran forward closer to the druid. I pulled on a pair of dark strands and threw it at the woman. The strands took a grip, and I watched her contort in pain as she heaved and wretched. I pushed down into her dark venom and she looked at me with hatred. Her lips curled into a snarl, baring her teeth, but before she spoke, three rays of fire struck her in the chest, piercing her and erupting through to the otherwise. She stood there a moment and blinked in confusion before sinking to her knees and collapsing, the fiery sword in her hand vanishing in dark smoke.

My heart’s pumping slowed as I slowly began to catch my breath. But like the others, I turned to look at the bear in our midst, who now changed back into the familiar form of Rosa.

“So…you’re a becomer,” Doxx said, not accusingly, but as a quiet statement.

Rosa, her head bent down in shame, nodded. “It was the…best thing I came up with to keep myself safe.”

“Safe? From what?” Sage asked, confused.

Rosa looked at the juggernaut with pain in her eyes, “My name is Rhys, but I haven’t gone by that in a long time. I was accused of stealing some things in Fairhaven, and I ran. It wasn’t true, but no one trusts changelings after all. So headed into the Eldeen, and met…Rosa.:” She looked at us with tears forming in her eyes. “She healed me, and I stayed with her. She trained me in the ways of the Gatekeepers, and I was…happy. But…she kept secrets. I knew she was once a member of the Children of Winter, but…something happened. I knew she had…some type of relationship with Morrigon, and that it didn’t end well.

Rosa looked at the wall for a moment, collecting herself before continuing. “Morrigon, Tracia and some others, came to her house, and…there was an argument. I was in my natural form then, but I didn’t want to pry into what was going on. They then left. They embraced and hugged each other as old friends might. But afterwards, Rosa was crying. She was so upset that she didn’t want to talk to me at all. I thought that a good night’s rest would do us all good, and we’d talk in the morning.

“But something else happened,” Bookshelf stated quietly.

Rosa nodded and choked on the words, “The next morning I found Rosa in the garden…dead. She had a long sharp blade buried in her back. I thought at first that one of them did it. But the blade wasn’t one I saw on them before. When I pulled it out…so I could move her and bury her, it just fell apart in my hand, like it was a bad dream. At that point, I decided to hide.”

“But why as…Rosa? She was dead.” Adrissa asked confused.

“No one knew that,” Rosa said. “We lived on the edges of town, and I tended to stay out of sight. Most people didn’t know I lived with Rosa at all. So I buried her, and I knew her well enough to…_become_ her,” she stressed looking at Doxx. “But I was still scared; if whomever did kill her, found out she was still alive…I might have been in danger. So I was planning to leave and hide. Until…”

“Until what?” I asked

“I got a letter. On the outside it was addressed to Rosa, but on the inside…it was addressed to me. The real me, Rhys. And it told me I was still at risk, and come to Karnnath to help—”

“—Melisandre!” Doxx spat. “Her hands are on everything! I want to question that woman more than ever.”

“I don’t understand how she knew who I was…or how she knew I had *become *Rosa at all. I had only been her for perhaps a week.” Rhys said confused.

“When was this?” The Blade demanded.. “How long ago?”

“Perhaps two, three months ago?” Rosa responded.

I thought a moment, “I was in Krona Peak about that time. I saw her there at a…inquiry. A couple of days later I met and talked to her on the Lightning Rail about this gold mine with Taryn. She mentioned she sent out letters to a number of folks. But I don’t think she ever left the Mror.”

“The Eldeen is very distant from the Mror,” Bookshelf stated. “But if you have the means, it is not impossible to get between the two places.”

The others nodded, but I turned in confusion, “How?”

“House Orien,” Bookshelf said simply. “They, for a price can teleport one from an enclave to another. I know there is on in Krona Peak. There is likely one in Varna.”

Rosa nodded, “I was on the outskirts of Havensglen. It isn’t far from Varna. And yes there is an enclave there.”

“So, it is possible she could have been near and knew, Bookshelf continued. “But it isn’t exactly a cheap form of transport.”

“She was of House…what was it…Medani,” I said. “Does that help?”

“House Medani is a very…closed house. Even to most Khoravar,” Doxx said. “But they do know things. But I want to know *how* she knows these things. Things are supposed to be secrets.”

“I don’t think she means us ill,” I said. “She has an agenda to be sure…but I don’t thi—”

“—I don’t like being threatened,” Doxx moved close and looked me in the eye. “And revealing secrets is a threat. I don’t like it, and she will answer for it.”

“I don’t think she is the enemy here,” I said backing up from the assertive old woman.

“A problem for another time,” Sage said. “I want to look at door and machine.”

I set to healing the others, and I noticed that Doxx and Rosa were talking in hushed tones as the rest looked over the corpses, the podium and the door. I didn’t catch all of it but heard enough:

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Doxx asked her.

“You weren’t keen on revealing yourself you remember?” Rosa replied.

“Well…you don’t need to keep secrets from me, and I won’t from you.”

I realized then, that changelings, while a scattered people, they likely formed bond between themselves easily. It probably was how they survived in a world that apparently didn’t trust them. I was personally enamored with the idea that you could just easily become…anyone else. But I could see the problem with that; If you did that, who was the real you? I didn’t really have much time to think about it when Sage spoke up.

“I found what must be what is left of the key…not much left, and it isn’t dweomerred anymore,” he said. In his hands he held a crystalline rod with a pair of colored gems on each end. The crystal was shattered, and it was incomplete in Sage’s hands, as bits and pieces were likely lost on the stone.

“The panel here…it seems only to be a lock,” Bookshelf said. “It doesn’t operate anything. But the runes on it…I am not familiar with.”

Doxx frowned, stood, and walked to the podium. Quickly she shrugged her shoulders. “Beats me. Anyone else?”

Rosa, The Blade, and Sage took a turn. Even Adrissa did after stating how would she know anything about it, and quickly proved herself correct. So at that point I figured that I might as well look at it.

I stepped up to the podium and looked, and my blood ran cold. “I can…can read this.” Just as I said that the room shook, and a droning noise came from behind us from beyond the ancient door. Dust from the ceiling fell, along with pebbles and chunks of larger stones.

I looked at the rest, a lump forming in my throat. “It’s in Infernal.”

*Session Notes:*
For folks who have paid attention, you might have noticed variance from the rules.  Rosa d'Jorasco is a Halfling (small) and Changelings cannot change into small humanoids.  The DM loosend this, allowing her to play a small changeling that could only shapechange into small humanoids.  Of course, wild shape wasn't impacted.  

This change threw everyone off of the possibility of a second changeling in the party.  She was almost revealed much earlier in the combat with the other druid Gwen...but she made that saving through, whereas Doxx did not.  In real time this reveal took probably six months.


----------



## Nthal

Queries about a Quarry - 12/24/21​The cobblestones were slick with the water from the downpour. The brimstone laden rain, ran over the dirty stones, adding more filth to the roadway. The acrid smell of the muggy air was in no way an improvement to the denizens of the Lower Ward, who covered themselves in yellow stained leathers, or worse, were soaked in stained linens. All in the effort to prevent the rainwater seeping onto exposed skin and staining it instead. For the poor, it was a hopeless battle, but everyone fought it, nonetheless. Overhead, from behind the clouds of rain above, darkness was falling. Soon gangs of kids would ply their trade, selling light for folks looking to get around in the deepening dark of the metropolis. For Sigil never truly slept. The mortals might, or might try, while fiends and celestials would occupy their sleepless time as only immortals could; seeking business or diversions to fill the hours.

To the figure making their way along the street it was probably a bit of both. They made sharp clipping sounds as they strode on the wet stone, while they threaded their way through the dirty rain with a parasol of leather skin over their heads and a dark leather cloak concealing their body. Several bands of lightboys stepped up to offer the cold comfort of cheerless light. But upon seeing the face underneath the parasol, each one retreated back into their alleys with terror in their eyes, and faces pale as ash. But not without regret, as while the danger was clear, so was the temptation of jink and the smell of something sweet and forbidden, lurking under the leathers the figure wore. A smell far removed from the acrid smell of the rain.

The deluge continued unabated, as the figure worked themselves through the streets. Most of the city’s denizens had already found shelter from the storm, leaving the streets with only the occasional soul running an errand of need. Finally, the figure turned onto a small avenue, devoid of passersby’s. At the end of the road, a blacksmith’s forge was still at work, where the scent of hot brimstone was mixed with iron, ready to be forged into greensteel. But next to it, a lone fiend, covered in sharp barbs all over its body, stood and shivered in the rain as water dripped off each spike like a grim fountain. They stood next to a yawning gate with a wicked polearm in hand, ostensibly to keep undesirables from passing through, and descending the stairs beneath the street.

The fiend looked at the figure approaching, and squinted. They then spoke in the sharp tones and harsh cadence of Baator’s native tongue while their lips curled into a cruel smile. “Someone is working their way up the ranks,” they said between chattering teeth, as they made a mocking flourish towards the stairs descending. The figure did not acknowledge the lesser fiend before them, and instead strode with confidence down into the bowels of stone.

The passage down was unlit, as it curled deep underneath the streets. The figure shook and closed their parasol, shaking droplets of dirty water away from the leather. They then quickly lashed a leather cord, strapping it closed and then turned the tip, down on the flagstone and used it as a walking stick. The handle was carved to look like a closed fist, with long nails, and veins that seemed to pulse in the shifting light. The hand that clutched it was fine and pale, with long dark nails at the end of fingers covered in rings. Finally, the stairs opened into the main bar of the Tenth Pit.

Within, platforms hung from above where winged fiends drank, laughed, and relaxed. Flames across the spectrum of colors lit the room into quadrants for Baatezu, Tanar’ri, and Yugoloths, and a section where all three could mingle if they chose. Along one wall was a desk before a passage way leading downwards, where a Malebranche drew up contracts for fetes of pain below. In the center was a bar, where libations from across the planes were served. The stacks of rare bottles, went to the ceiling, as mephits flitted about pulling down one bottle or another and flew them to a grey skinned figure standing at the base of the stacks, whose luminous, unblinking eyes stared at each fiend in the room. As it did so, it waved their hand, and a mephit would fly off with the desired beverage and deposited it on the table. It otherwise stood there uncaring, until the figure approached and looked into its eyes and waited.

The bartender cocked its head for a moment and returned the look with a bored gaze. It then motioned with its hand to a door in the corner of the room. Without a word, the figure pivoted and strode towards it, as it cast off its cloak with a flourish revealing a feminine figure, as her cloven hooves made light clipping sounds as she moved across the room. Her long blonde hair was in braids, and decorated with beads of bone, while she looked about with dead eyes of solid white. Jutting from her back were the remains of wings, burned down to the bone. Yet they still flexed and moved as they would in life. Behind her, four tails swished side to side like nervous snakes, each ending with a stinger ending with a sharp barb. With her cloak over one arm, and her parasol in the other, she pushed open the door, and ascended the stairs beyond.

They led to a landing, full of furnishings of fine dark wood, and upholstered in soft red velvet. The furniture seemed to hang in mid-air over the bar, clearly seen below. The fiend smiled and walked on the invisible stone and made her way towards a couch in the center of the room. She was about to sit, when the stones on another wall parted exposing a concealed passage, and revealing a tall statuesque woman. She might have passed for human, if it weren’t for small horns crowning her head and the black feathered wings on her back marking her an Erinyes from Baator. She entered the room with a bemused look which slowly melted into a smile and opened her arms.

“I was told that a Tanar’ri wanted to make a deal and look who it is; Teiazaam! It has been a while,” she said, and she crossed over towards her peer looking Teiazaam over approvingly. “And you have done well it seems. I can still smell the smoke of your promotion to the Lilitu. Shall we drink to celebrate?”

The Lilitu smiled, “Why not Aerina? I am surprised to see you here in Shemeska’s employ. I expected to meet her and not an Erinyes as my contact, much less you.”

Aerina shrugged, as she walked to a sideboard, and poured from a crystal flask, a dark red liquid into a pair of glasses. She took them both and offered one to Teiazaam as she spoke, “My mother, Invadiah had a good run for Glasya, but she failed to meet expectations. Such a b*tch she was. Her demotion was delicious to watch but of course, reality set in as the infighting for position had begun. So, I decided to take some time away from the fracas left behind, and let things sort themselves out among my sisters before playing the game again.”

The Baatezu waved her hand nonchalantly at the lounge, “So I came to Sigil to relax, and learned busy Shemeska has been, and the how those finely manicure paws of hers are in so many interests. But lately she has been reluctant to do any deals face to face, and even if she were, doesn’t have time for every bargain or request. So, I offered my services as a liaison and am now, trading for information.” The Erinyes clinked her glass to the Lilitu’s and took a sip of the liquor. “But a little mephit told me that you are here on business for Jade. What does she want from the Marauder?” and Aerina gestured toward a pair of opposing couches, which she lay upon one of them with a fascinated smile.

“My mistress wants someone found…again. She has offered a number of soul coins from her collection to make that happen.”

Aerina arched an eyebrow, “Again? Is she growing forgetful in her lustful dotage?”

The Tanar’ri smiled at the jab and Teiazaam, reclined on her own couch as and took a sip from her glass. She licked her lips and asked Aerina a question, “Do you remember, when we last saw each other?”

Aerina nodded, “Yes. Jade had invited me to watch as Zekeal lost a bet on the corruptibility of Aasimar. He was put out but amused. I heard that he was busying squeezing a mephit for ink…literally…to take notes. I also seem to recall you were at your best as you broke that lily to retching her humbles and her reducing her to tears, and all to the delight of your mistress.”

“A fun assignation at the time,” Teiazaam smiled. But it turns out, Jade has more than a passing interest in that lily.”

Aerina arched her eyebrow at that, “That is telling. Jade has never been one to linger on a conquest; even one at her behest. Mortals are food, tools or trash; nothing to revisit twice.”

The Lilitu shrugged and sipped at her drink, “That’s what struck me. But this seems less about the little mortal’s fall, and more about her kin.”

“Go on,” Aerina said looking at Teiazaam with interest.

“Several years ago, she went positively savage with rage, as someone was supposed to keep an eye on her whereabouts, and they…lost her. Since then, she has spent a lot of influence trying to find that trollop again.”

“And let me guess? You were a traded favor?”

“To a Shator,” Teiazaam said grimacing.

Aerina almost spit out her drink, “To a *Gehreleth*? What possessed her to do that?”

“As one of her favorites of the moment, I could only guess that she was desperate. The humiliation I suffered at that Shator’s hands was almost more than I could stand, considering they had nothing useful to say.”

“And anyone could have told her that—”

“—I did scream that as I ran out of her boudoir to fulfill her demand.” The Lilitu responded with a hint of anger on her voice. “Fortunately, she was more interested that I obeyed, and less about my recalcitrance.”

“My mother would have plucked my wings down to the pin feathers, and then pierced my flesh with them just for looking at her in the wrong way.” Aerina took a sip, and frowned a moment. “What do they do to Succubi?”

“It’s the orchids, or you get chained to a column and get to do nothing but watch others have fun for as long as deigned necessary.”

“And so rather than that…you endured the Shator instead? Remind me not to visit. But I detect a bit of contempt on your voice. Are you not here for your mistress? You wish to perhaps…return the favor?”

Teiazaam gave the Erinyes a wicked smile, “Jade is making mistakes, and they are making Malcanthet look bad. The way I see it, she needs to spend more time in her garden with her orchids.”

“Indeed…telling me this is quite the risk though is it not?”

“Hardly. You could ask any Lilitu or Succubus under her and they would say the same, even at the best of times. Jade sabotaged her predecessor in a gamble for Malcanthet’s favor. She knows everyone plots against her.”

Aerina shook her head. “Abyssal politics at its finest. So, what did *you* want from Shemeska?”

“Ah the heart of it. Jade wants to find that Aasimar. She seems to have fallen into a portal has made her remote to normal scrying.”

“Did you have a means?”

The Lilitu pulled from her bosom a small vial, which held red flakes, mixed around golden fibers. “When I bathed her, I took some hair and blood.”

“Such initiative!” the Erinyes said taking the vial and peering at the contents, before returning it.

“Not really. I admit that Jade has us gather and catalog something from all our assignations.”

“Even that Shator?”

Teiazaam shivered and shook her head quickly at the memory. “Even that one. The old hag did teach valuable things…once upon a time.”

Aerina swirled the liquor in her glass a moment, “But you didn’t answer my question: what did *you* want?”

“I can find her; it just will take some coin. But I know that the lily’s *kin* are what is really important. I need to learn more about the Aasimar.”

“Information needs information in kind.”

“Jade has many secrets…many that she has kept from Malcanthet. I think Shemeska might be interested in a couple of them. But my time in Carceri was not spent with only Gehreleths. I learned some things about a particular ‘lolth. One named Shyl—”

Aerina raised a hand to her lips and just barely shook her head as she spoke; “I don’t want to know. But you are playing a dangerous game if you want to use *that* as leverage.”

“I’m no fool; its currency and nothing more. I placed the information in a sensory stone in the Civic Festhall. Provide me the information I seek, and I’ll tell you the stones number, and where in the memory to find what you want.”

Aerina swirled her glass and narrowed her eyes at the Lilitu, “Such a shame you were born on the wrong side of the conflict; I would have loved to have you as a partner.”

Teiazaam stuck a long finger nail and stirred her own beverage, “Well…there is something about being your own mistress that is appealing. All the glory, all th—”

“—Risk?”

The Tanar’ri nodded, “Besides, I rather like you as competition. My own kin are so…boring. And I admire your professionalism on the side,” she put her drink down on a table, and stood up. She slowly approached, and straddled the legs of the Baatezu. She wrapped her arms around the shoulders of her peer, and gently stroked and preened the dark feathers. "If…you have some free time, I would love to waste a bit of it.”

Aerina, looked into the dead eyes of the Tanar’ri, and ran her own fingers through Teiazaam’s blonde hair. “I would be willing to make the time. But I think you…should consider visiting some of the…more select services we offer here first.”

Teiazaam had a flash of anger cross her face, which quickly faded. She then looked at Aerina with confusion, “You would let business steal away this moment?”

Aerina smiled, and gripped Teiazaam’s hair tightly. She used her great strength to pull the Tanar’ri close. “Hardly,” she whispered. “I just want to see you…stimulated. Several of your kin have been here asking about that very trollop and where she might be. But we could tell them nothing about where she is. However, there is a Baatezu here in the bar that might *know* more things about her, if not necessarily her kin or her location. So, while I can lead you in the door…you might need to suffer a bit so I can casually ask questions for you.”

Teiazaam smiled as she let the Erinyes maneuver her head and torso, until it was her that reclined on the couch, and the Baatezu now lay on top of the Tanar’ri. “And who is this…fiend?”

Aerina ran her hand over the cheek of the Lilitu and smiled, “A Kyton by the name of Nastanal. He happens to be a master of the rooms below.”

Teiazaam’s eyebrows both lifted as she looked into her lesser’s eyes. “This will work better, if I am one on top,” she kept her hands on the Erinyes’s shoulders, and wrapped her legs around Aerina’s own. As she did so, she slowly pulled her tails from beneath her, each of the stingers oozing a bead of poison in excitement.

Oblivious Aerina shook her head, “Now now, this is my place of employm—” and the much stronger Teiazaam pulled the Erinyes’ head into her bosom and held it there with an iron grip. She smiled, as Aerina’s screams were muffled by the Tanar’ri’s breasts, as the Lilitu’s tails flailed at the open backside of the weaker fiend. Each tail left the mark of a brand on her backside, which disappeared as quickly as they were formed. Each brand caused the Baatezu to shudder, and her writhing became less and less violent. After a dozen or so lashes, the Lilitu released her embrace on the no longer struggling Aerina. Her eyes were glazed in confusion, as the Lilitu’s spell took a firm hold on the hapless Erinyes. “As…as…as you like my…my mistress,” Aerina stammered with an excited smile on her lips.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me for this…or return the favor more likely. But I’m only doing this because I really do like you.” Teiazaam said as she opened her legs, releasing the Erinyes, and sat up. Aerina, slid down off the couch, onto her knees and then prostrated herself on the floor, her wings flat on the stone, and from between the Lilitu’s legs, she looked upwards with hunger, her eye shivering with a mixture of terror and delight.

Teiazaam nodded and her grin widened. “Now…I think you were going to let me work you over, so I can have a…professional conversation with this Kyton. Shall we go?”

*Session notes:*
It's been a while since we graced the filthy streets of the Lower Ward.  Much of this was very much 'off screen' of course.  But as I was writing it, I was well...triggered?

What I am is a sucker for continuity.  I was reading Shemeska's Story Hour and I realized that, coincidently a lot of the story there, lined up with Myrai's story.  Both are set post faction war for example.  And reading up on some of Shemeska's misadventures, it inspired me to build up an underling to deal with the little people, and not write in Shemeska herself.  It makes logical sense; Myrai isn't important enough to be on Shemeska's radar, but trading information about her 'Manged' pupil is an amusing piece of currency.  Honestly the idea of trying to write in the skin of that loth terrifies me; I'm not sure I could do it justice.

So Shemesksa, if you read this, consider this an easter egg to your story, which has been an inspiration.


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## Wilpower784

Looks like I missed last update. Had some catching up to do. However, a return to the Tenth Pit makes for an excellent Christmas present.


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## Nthal

Stone and Flame - 1/1/2022​
Sage moved to look over the pedestal. “I do not know of a language called ‘Infernal.’ Explain.”

I looked at Sage with what I assume was disbelief, “Infernal…is the language spoken by the denizens of Baator, and other places around the lower planes. It’s really a corruption of the celestial tongue.”

“Baator? Is that a place?” Adrissa asked looking at me confused.

“It’s a…um…realm…a plane where souls go. Evil ones or ones that have sold them or have been corrupted,” I responded.

“That doesn’t follow what I know of cosmology here,” Bookshelf said, putting a hand and rubbing their chin, giving off a shrill metal on metal grinding.

“By the sovereign STOP that,” Doxx said, her hands flying to her ears.

“What? Ah right. Sorry.” The warforged said before continuing, “Souls go to Dollurh, or the Silver Flame based on most Khorvair’s belief systems. Aerenal and the Valenar elves have a different perspective I am told—”

“—Ancestry worship or preservation,” The Blade interrupted. “And not relevant here.”

“Yes,” Bookshelf agreed. “So…what type of creatures are in this ‘Baator’ then Myrai?”

I blinked and stammered, “Well…they’re immortal fiends. All of them. Baatezu are the current rulers, but there are other ones that live there. Night hags, some Yugoloths I suppose, some of the Raksasha—”

“Wait…Raksasha?” Sage asked.

“I don’t know much about them,” I admitted. “I’m familiar with the common fiends. I only know of them by name. Supposedly they have heads of great cats like tigers and are difficult to work magic on. And their hands are backwards!” I remembered at last. But I watched the two warforged look at each other.

“The most ancient past of Eberron is called the ‘Age of Demons,’ where the ‘Overlords’ ruled the world. But their servants are…as you describe. Fiends.”

“Then…this place—” Rosa said, looking around fearfully.

“Predates everyone here,” The Blade noted. “However, that fact is completely useless. What does the pedestal actually say?”

“Oh, a moment,” I said, and I started to read the script that was in raised relief, on some type of purple sheened metal. I was strange how while the details of the script were different, the complex order behind the words were still there as much as any Baator contract. “It’s mostly phrases; ‘Seal’,’Unseal’,’Prime’,’Activate,’ and…this,” and I pointed to a cylinder that was spinning slowly, with what was a list of numbers. And there is a phrase here, covered in soot.”

I stared to rub away the grime away from the panel and. It wasn’t coming off, so I pulled on a light strand and used it instead to clean away the surface, and I read what I saw as I did. “Full activation will cause backwash of energy. All lessers will be eradicated within the site.”

“What’s a ‘lessers’” Doxx asked turning to the door and looking at it apprehensively.

“Well…lower orders of fiends…and mortals I suppose.” I ventured.

“Mortals?” Adrissa asked her eyes growing wider.

“Yes…us and these numbers…are decreasing…fast.” I said after thinking for a moment. We looked at each other, and then in the silence, we were aware that of a humming growing louder. Turning our heads to the door we could see just around the edges where it sat in the rock, a faint light peeking through the seams.

“I…I think we should—” Started Doxx.

“—RUN!” Rosa said, turning and clutching her hands close to herself. As she did hair fell away and revealed scales and feathers cresting around an elongated neck. Her feet grew claws, with a long central claw that clicked the stone rapidly as it ran, streaking ahead of us.

“Sodding—” I said, and I tore after the lizardlike Rosa, as did we all. Behind us the sound of the humming was growing louder, and now I could feel the stone below us shake. Next to me Bookshelf’s metal feet echoed on the stone, while behind both of us, Sage’s heavy feet crushed the stone underfoot. The Blade ran quickly and near silently pulling ahead but trailing the old woman Doxx. Just ahead of me the young girl, Adrissa was running, and I was barely able to keep up with her.

As we ran, the noise could be felt as we ran up the sloping passages. The vibration shook dust away from the ceiling at first, but as we ran for our lives, occasional chunks of rock fell from above. I pulled my shield off my arm and used it to cover my head as I held it over my head as I ran. My lungs burned, and my legs were already aching as we continued to run upwards. The father and higher we ran, the worse it was as the tunnels were altered by the magic below us.

Rocks fell from shattered parts of the ceiling, smashing into the stone below and cracking the floor. I felt slow as I watched the faster members of our group simply scamper ahead of myself and somehow more fragile compared to the warforged. My arms ached from the impact of rocks bouncing off my shield. The runes on the walls now no longer simply pulsed with light, but now were a solid shine, and they steadily grew brighter as we ran upwards. As they did I could…feel the energy around me, almost as if I had touched them like I had before. As they grew brighter, the energy scraped across me, and my skin felt raw. My mind raced wondering if it would be rock, or the strange eldritch forces that would do me in first.

More of the tunnel was falling apart behind us, when a rock fell on my shield, and knocked me off balance. I fell to the ground and my shield skidded across the floor. Then I saw that ray of hope; the sunlight from above lighting the way ahead of me. I heard the sound of stone and metal scraping together, and I felt the cold metallic hand grasp my arm and lifted me as if I weighed nothing. Sage pulled me close, and we ran together with me under his shield. Next to us, Bookshelf ran as well, now holding my shield. I pushed myself harder, wanting to feel the sun on my face, and not the strange warmth coming from the walls.

I felt the warm wet air from the mouth of the tunnel first, and then the sun on my skill. My lungs felt on fire, and my legs felt as if the bones had melted, as I collapsed onto the ground my heart feeling like it would burst. Not far from me lay a prostrate Adrissa, who also panted heavily. I closed my eyes and just breathed, not caring about anything else. I felt the thump on the earth of my shield next to me, and I heard Bookshelf say. “That’s a problem.”

Next to me I heard Adrissa stir, “Oh crap! Don’t look at them! They’re basilisks!”

“Sodding Baator,” I muttered. Pulled myself up on my knees, keeping my eyes shut. I felt next to me and found my shield and pulling it in front of me I opened my eyes, and quickly pulled on the straps, tightening it around my arm.

“Why aren’t they coming towards us?” Doxx hissed somewhere to the left of me.

“Because, they are eating a kill,” The Blade said as I heard him pull an arrow out of his quiver. “Adrissa, what do you know of these things?”

“My dad said to never get close with them, and shoot them,” Adrissa said also making sounds of drawing an arrow from a quiver.

“Did he say how far to stay?” Doxx asked between clenched teeth.

“No. He did say they are slow though.”

“Well, they are blocking the way out so—” Doxx started, when I heard the heavy footsteps of the juggernaut pounded away from the group.

“Sage! What are you doing!” Bookshelf said, as I stood up raising my shield to block my view.

“Not looking at them!” The warforged thundered. “So, start shooting!”

Next to me I could hear Adrissa and the Blade loose shots. Turning my head, I saw the Blade was backing up towards the rocky rubble that now blocked the tunnel leading down. I heard the arrows sink deeply into flesh followed by angry grunts and hisses. It was followed by the sound of something like claws or teeth on metal, and the sounds of a blade swinging and scraping against tough hide. Nearby I heard Rosa’s voice finally, which I assumed meant she wasn’t a lizard anymore. “I can’t fix it if you are petrified!”

“I guess I don’t need to see them to kill them,” I muttered and keeping the shield in front of me I walked into fray. I reached out with dark strands and felt carefully. The warforged Sage’s life I could tell easily. It was strong, vibrant and, for lack of a better word, ordered. So that meant the rest were fair game. I looped around dark strands around them and set forth a miasma around them. More hissing, and I was then attacked as I saw the lower jaw chew on the bottom of my shield, attempted to wrench it away from my arm. I pushed the shield down so its head couldn’t sneak underneath and backed up a bit, as I heard more arrows whistle by, some of them sinking into the lizards.

Nearby I heard another whistle, and I saw a dagger land near my feet. It was followed very quickly by Doxx swearing something I couldn’t quite make out. Then I heard quite clearly Bookshelf shout, “Ground!” I turned to look behind me and I saw streaking from their hand a bead of light. I sank down and hid behind my shield and waited. Soon we were enveloped in flames, but I couldn’t feel the fire around me, as Bookshelf somehow managed to aim the blast so we were on the edges. I could then smell burnt wood, grass and skin as the hissing and growling increased. The one that was gnawing on my shield thrashed back and forth trying to get to the tender morsel beyond it, me. I lashed out with more dark strands, and I could feel the life force of one fade away as the Miasma tore at their bodies. I then heard some more arrows and then the jaw on my shield, released it and fell away with a thump. From behind us I heard Adrissa say, “It should be safe now. Stab them with a sword first though.”

“Anyone hurt?” Rosa asked.

I raised my hand. “The tunnel tried to kill me, but nothing from these.”

“I agree with that. The tunnel was more dangerous.” Doxx said and pointed to collapsed tunnel.

“Well, our investigation then is complete.” The Blade said with a note of satisfaction. “We can return with the information about this place and see what they can make of it.”

Nodding in agreement, I warily stood up straight and looked at the gore in front of me. Three lizards lay there, each one with scorch marks, arrows lodged deeply into their bodies, and one even had a deep slash from Sage’s armblade. But on the ground were a pair of stone forms, and one form that was half stone and half flesh, which the trio looked to be feeding on. The victims appeared to be humans. I sighed and knelt down by the one that was partially flesh, and was about to start a blessing, when I realized that he was wearing a uniform. Glancing at the other two, who were now stone I realized that they all wore the same type of helm, which had a distinct style. Each helm had a faceplate that covered the right side of their faces, while leaving the left exposed. But I didn’t remember seeing these helms from the town or from the warlords’ troops.

“Hey, these seem to be solders,” I said pointing at the corpse in front of me. “But I don’t remember this livery from town.”

Sage withdrew is arm blade and turned the man’s head back and forth looking at the helmet. “This would indicate an elite troop of some type. Most of the militaries don’t bother with this distinction on a large scale.”

“Oh, by the Sovereign, no!” Doxx said as she ran over and looked at the bodies. “Damn it! this is all we need.”

Bookshelf walked over and looked down. “That’s a bigger problem,” they said dispassionately.

“Bigger than the basilisks?” Rosa said confused. “How?”

“I thought…I thought the order was disbanded,” Adrissa said confused.

“If only,” Doxx grunted in response. “They went into hiding.”

“I’m sorry, who went into hiding?” I asked thoroughly confused.

“The Order of the Emerald Claw,” Doxx replied. “They were a knightly order of some renown, but King Kaius III ordered them to disband due to conduct unbefitting Karnnath. They of course refused and tried to tell the commoners that they were crusaders trying to save Karnnath.”

“And they go around advertising that with those helms?” I asked. “Doesn’t that put them at risk?”

“That’s just it,” Doxx said looking at me with a resigned look. “If they are operating in the open, it means they are around in force and aren’t afraid of being seen.”

“Why?” The Blade asked.

“Overconfidence? Bravado? Who kno—” Doxx said before she was cut off.

The Blade expanded on his question “No. Why are they here? Why would they come to this location now?”

“And where did they come from?” Rosa asked aloud.

Adrissa looked at the ground a moment, moving away from us while staying in sight. After looking at the ground for a while, she then ran back with a frown on her face. “Well, the basilisks came from the north hills. Probably hungry, and these guys were just dinner. But looking at tracks from this group, it’s clear why they are here. They were following tracks.”

“Whose?” Doxx asked, although I was personally sure of the answer.

“Ours. They were following us.”

“Not the druids?” Rosa asked.

“No,” Adrissa confirmed. “We never followed their tracks, as we never found their trail. Their tracks are in line with our’s.”

“Alright. So why are they following us?” I asked.

“I was told that they were operating in the area,” Doxx said slowly. “And specifically, I was to watch out for them trying to manipulate a group being sent here.” She looked at us and sighed. “Us in other words.”

“For a gold mine?” I said even more confused. “That makes no sense.”

“Not at face value. But what if we were sent under false pretenses?” Doxx posited. “Melisandre has been manipulative at the least. I bet Taryn believes what she has sold him. But that’s not why we are here.”

“Are you saying that Melisandre is a part of the Emerald Claw? I find that unlikely.” Sage said shaking his head.

“No…but perhaps they know more about why we are here and were told to follow us.” Doxx explained.

“We should follow their tracks back and see if we can ask a living person about that.” The Blade said.

Adrissa smirked. “That should be easy enough.”

Adrissa then led us at a swift pace out of the forest. Not having to looking around randomly, made our progress out of the wooded hills faster than our way in. And true to our expectations, the Emerald Claw solders followed ours. It was almost evening when we crested a hill and looked down upon the town of Denning once again. But what we saw was not a welcome site.

Denning was burning.

*Session Notes:*
So did you like complication with your complication.  Myrai got to ask the dumb questions, so everyone (who most of which were very new to the setting) could get an idea of what power groups were relevant.  Because while Eberron is a cool setting, it has a lot of moving / shaking parts that can be daunting for unfamilar folks to play in.  

But everyone at this table loves intrigue and puzzles as a side to their violence and stories.


----------



## Nthal

Perspectives - 1/17/2022​Special thanks to Ryan, Graysire, and Jess (see notes)​
Several large columns of thick black smoke wafted high into the air. As we watched, several mounted solders gave chase to vegepygmies fleeing the battle. Loramica’s men were swift and merciless, lancing and trampling down the fleeing creatures, while behind them, a pair of wizards hurled flames at the fallen, keeping them down.

“It looks like we missed what happened here,” Sage said after watching the Karrns continue their slaughter. “They’re just mopping up now.”

“Let us see where the…other soldiers came from,” Doxx said grimacing.

I thought a moment and coiled a light and dark strand around and pulled my familiar out from their hiding space.

_Goss I—

--Oh! Really? *Now* you need me?

Yes I do.

--Well you…wait you do? Alright then.

Go up, keep an eye out around us.

--Got it._

Gossamer took to the air and started to wing upwards. Meanwhile, Adrissa was on her knees looking at the turf. Her head looked up and she squinted and frowned. “They are going straight to Denning, right in between the two gates on this side.” She then waved for us to follow her, and we ran towards the town. I was nervous though. While it seemed that the fires were fading, just I knew that someone likely died in the defense of the town. I honor my duties as they are important for the souls who crossed the veil and for the souls left behind. But that didn’t mean I wanted to perform the rites. But perhaps things weren’t so bad inside Denning. Maybe the Karrns were able to protect them.

I wondered, as Adrissa followed the trail came up to a section of wall that stood between the gates on this side of the river. She stopped, and bent down looking at the soft, muddy earth before looking at us. “Here. They dropped down from the walls here,” she said.

“What?” Bookshelf exclaimed. “They were *in *the town?”

“Someone was helping them,” Doxx said grimacing. “The Emerald Claw may be banned by the crown, but they still have many friends.”

“They could see,” I said. “They must have had curative—”

“Or they had the same supplies as Loramica’s men.” Doxx said. “Same Karnnathi training.”

_--Hey Myr. The kids inside are organizing adults to put out fires. Quite a number of bodies of the pygmies though.

So the Karrns were busy.

--Looks like they trampled a bunch of them, and a pair of patrols still are still sweeping. The Inn seems to be where the wounded are being tended to.

Keep safe and keep an eye out._

“Well, we better head inside and see what has happened,” Rosa said softly. “And see how we can help.”

“The kids are getting fires put out, the soldiers are clearing streets, a lot of wounded.”

“Do you think you can pick up the trail on the inside?” I asked the girl.

“I can citizen,” The Blade said with bravado. “I have tracked many criminals across cobblestone. Sage; you know what to do.” The Blade stood in front of the wall, looked up and waited. Sage stood there silently looking at the elf blankly, as the rest of us looked at each other. Finally, The Blade turned around, “Look, I don’t have my grapple and rope so if you—”

“—Oh! I see.” Sage said and he stepped next to the elf and kneeled down, while raising his shield flat overhead. The Blade pulled the cowl over his head and swiftly jumped from Sage’s knee to shield and then quickly leapt on top of the wall, his black cloak flaring and trailing behind him. He then ducked out of sight on the other side.

“Should we follow him?” Rosa asked puzzled.

“No, we should let him have his moment to himself on this dark night,” Doxx mused.

I turned and looked at the old woman confused, “The sun hasn’t even set yet.”

“It’s close enough.” Doxx muttered and waved her hand at me dismissively.

“We should get inside…the normal way,” Rosa chided, and we followed along the wall to the gate.

*The Blade*​
The Blade dropped down into the alleyway and looked around, before squatting and examining the cobblestone below. It seemed that the rain had already washed away whatever dirt may have been present. Under the cowl he frowned, and his eyes searched around, looking for anything out of place. He was about to give up when he heard a faint creak of wood nearby. His head turned and saw a door, open just a crack. He froze and watched, and it creaked again as a light breeze blew through the alley. He moved to the door and kicked it open, pointing an arrow inside.

The door was apparently the back entrance to a shop. The lamps on the walls were unlit and the room was cold. The windows in the front were smashed, and glass covered the floor along with several sport spears. But as The Blade spun around all he saw were low shelves with goods, fishing nets, tackle, tents and other supplies useful in the wilderness. He sighed, and was about to depart when he saw something behind the door he entered.

There on the floor were open leather saddlebags in a pile along with discarded cloaks, still damp. He knelt down and looked the pile over. There appeared to be nothing of note about the cloaks, and he began to search the bags cautiously. Inside each he found oil, a whetstone and cloth used to polish armor or blades. As he searched the bags, he noticed that in one of them was what appeared to be embossing in the leather.

“Who tools the inside of a bag?” he muttered aloud. “What kind of amateur criminal does that. What kind of criminal breaks into a shop and leaves their stuff? What kind of…wait.”

He rotated the bag around and looked inside again. With a groan he realized that it wasn’t an emboss, but it was the imprint of something the bag once held. And now he had rotated it, he recognized that the imprint was in the shape of the half-faced helm he had saw on the Emerald Claw soldiers. He nodded with satisfaction, then thought a moment. He brought the bag to his nose and took a whiff. He immediately covered his nose and mouth under his cowl and stifled a sneeze.

“Horses. It smells of horses, but you didn’t ride them to find us. So where are they now?”

Suddenly the wind picked up and blew open the door scattering leaflets around. One smacked The Blade in the face, and he pulled it away with a gloved hand. He stared at it for a moment, and he recognized it as an advertising flyer for the shop. A small frown crept over his face as it reminded him of another flyer in Sharn…

---

The winter breeze drifted down the alley in Sharn, prompting a shiver from the shorter of the two human men. The other was leaning his back against the brick tower wall with an annoyed expression.

"Let me see if I have this straight," he groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So, you tried to rob a shop, and you got beat up by a guy in a black cloak."

"Yeah."

"And then, three days later… you tried to rob the same shop…"

"Yeah," he interjected with an anxious nod.

"…and got beat up by another—"

"No, the same guy."

"…by the same guy in a black cloak." He shook his head with a sigh as he blindly snatched a flyer from the wall next to him and casually blew his nose in it.

The shorter one patiently waited for all of two seconds before urgently whispering "What do you think it means?"

The taller man dropped the crumpled flyer into a puddle at his feet. He then looked his companion up and down for a moment and began to walk past him out of the alley. Over his shoulder he finally replied, "I think it means you're bad at crime."

The short one stared blankly for a moment before frantically stepping to catch up to his friend. "No, you don't understand. This guy wasn't normal. He—"

"Look, do yourself a favor," he barked as they both round the corner and disappeared from view. "Don't tell anyone else that story."

Remaining behind in the now empty alley, the defiled flyer unfolds slightly as it soaks, making the surface once again visible.

It read:



> *Trappers’ Trappings*
> 
> _Quality Hunting and Fishing Implements
> and Habiliments_
> 
> *Don’t be left in the cold!*
> _Our tents are the most durable in Sharn. All materials are locally crafted so we can pass the savings on to you!_
> 
> *Don’t just guess. Ask the plants!*
> _We offer the most innovative spells to get your through the wilderness with style. Your competitors are all doing it. Shouldn’t you?_
> 
> *Don’t hunt hungry!*
> _At Trapper’s Trappings, there’s only one shelf: the top shelf. Enjoy the finest outdoor rations, packed with all the best nutrients, so you can stay hot on the trail!_
> 
> *Bad credit? No credit? No problem!*
> _Because we only take gold.
> 
> Stop in today, or visit one of our sister establishments in Sharn: “Hooked on Tackle” in Precarious, or “Spraying Prey” in Middle Dura. You’ll be glad you did._​
> _Adamas Seinessa ,Proprietor_




The flyer drifted away in the breeze, floating upwards until a hand reached out of a darkened shadow of a nook in the wall. In the nook, a cowled figure crumpled the flyer and muttered under his breath, “And add littering to your crimes.”

----

The Blade looked at the flyer and narrowed his eyes at it, “Copycats,” before stuffing it into a pouch. Then he looked out the broken windows and into the afternoon sun, whispering aloud, “I found their hideout easily. I can find where these Emerald Claw folks came from too.”

*Myrai*​
The sun had just started to set and the light was fading. Overhead the clouds roiled and rumbled with thunder, their once dingy grey, now darkened with the threat of rain. Finally, we made the last turn along the wall, and the gate came into view, and we rushed over to see what assistance might be needed.

To my surprise the door was shut and barred as before. But what was new, was a pair of tree trunks that now angled from the muddy earth and led up over the wall. The bark showed signs of scratches and claw marks while next to them, four large piles of burned plant matter, the remains of vegeogres lay unmoving. They were covered in arrows, most of which had burned away with the pitch that was once dipped around them. Several smaller bodies were present as well, and the dirt and loam in front of the gate looked to have been churned recently by horses. We threaded our way around the ashen corpses and Sage banged on the door with his metal fist. Above us I heard a boy’s voice call out, “It’s the heroes! Open the gate.” We heard the bar slide away and then the doors creaked open as the rain began to fall.

The other side and its causeway leading to the town’s center was a mess. Palisades were broken, with wet splintered wood scattered around. Here too were burned vegepygmy corpses of various sizes, as well as their thorny mounts. The blind men that manned the gates turned nervously at every sound, as a pair of children guided them. The children’s faces were dirty with soot, with clean trails where tears streamed down their cheeks. They, like the adults, looked tired, like sleep was a distant memory.

As we entered and they moved to close the gate, the children looked at us for something. Hope perhaps? But as they turned to look at Adrissa, they started to tear up and turned away. I looked at our young charge and saw confusion in her eyes. Then from the battlements above, Jace appeared and ran up to Adrissa.

“Adrissa! I’m…I’m so…so sorry,” he said his eyes tearing up much like the other children.

“Wha…what has happened?” Adrissa asked as uncertainty cross her face.

“The…things came running up with trees and just climbed over,” Jace started. “A whole pack of them! Cyra blew the horn like she was showed, and the soldiers came on their horses. We…we gave more than we got, but…”

Jace’s voice trailed off, as he turned to look at three figures that lay underneath canvas on the cobbles. Two of them were adults, but the third was far smaller. Adrissa didn’t wait for Jace to finish. She ran over to the wet tarps and pulled back the one covering the smallest figure. There on the muddy streaked stone lay the young girl who embraced Adrissa on the way out of town. Her face was smooth and clean as the rain pelted her still cheeks. In her chest were a pair of short arrows, each one fatal in that petite frame.

Adrissa discarded her bow and sank down next to her friend. Her face was expressionless as she stared Cyra’s peaceful face. She was quiet for a moment before and without turning she asked quietly, “I thought…I though we built cover for them,”

“We did,” Jace said near tears. “But when she started to blow the horn, two of the dog things charged at her and she ran scared. Then she fell…with an arrow stuck in her. Then another. If she just ducked and hid…she…she.”

Adrissa nodded and turned to me. Her eyes looked older, and her face resigned. “Can you…take care of them?”

I nodded, “I will.”

Adrissa quietly nodded and said, “I’ll meet you by the Jorasco station later. I’m going to see about better cover for the kids.”

“We are going to see if things are under control at the Inn,” Sage said, and Bookshelf, Doxx and the Juggernaut trudged towards the town center.

I looked at Adrissa and reached out for her, but she turned away. My arm and hand hung there a moment before I dropped it to my side. I looked at the corpses and then closed my eyes and concentrated. I imagined a pair of light stands, weaving across themselves in a lattice over and over again. I then pulled the strands taut and snapped them asunder leaving next to me a disk floated next to me. I moved over to the bodies and bend over and picked up the small girl and lay her gently on the disk. I then started to do the same with the much heavier adults, when I realized the Rosa, in the form of a bear, lent me her strength. Together we put the two adults onto the disk, and I walked to the Temple of the Sovereign host.

Rosa had shifted back to her halfling self, and she followed me as we walked with the disk following close behind. The light rain covered us with droplets as we entered the grounds of the church, and I made my way to back where the graves stood.

“Are you alright Myrai?” Rosa asked me, as we threaded our way through the graves.

I sighed, “It doesn’t matter where I have been, death is the same everywhere,” I said bitterly. “But…*I* set those kids to work, to be the eyes of their parents and elders in town.”

“You blame yourself?” Rosa asked.

I swallowed hard and shut my eyes, before shaking my head. “No, I don’t…But doesn’t make it any easier. It’s not like we had a lot of choice.”

“No,” Rosa said quietly. “Not us. Not them.” Rosa fell quiet as we continued to walk through the graveyard. “I had always heard the Children were dangerous. But I honestly had no idea.”

We finally reach an open section of the graveyard, and saw that other bodies had been placed here, waiting. Almost a dozen bodies, all adults lay there, waiting for a gravedigger and perhaps some eyes to open the earth to inter them. A simple marker with the symbol of the Sovereign Host, the Octogram leaned against a wall, waiting to be planted.I moved myself so the disk was at the end of the row, and Rosa and I dragged the two adults off the disk. The I carefully lifted the girl Crya, and gently laid her down beside the others. Kneeling beside her, I pulled a pair of greenies and then I kissed one and placed it over an eye.

“I saw you do that with Mobad. What’s the reason?” Rosa asked.

“An old tale,” I said after I kissed the second coin, “where souls travel to the lands of the dead via a river. The river’s name changes by who is telling the tale, as does the destination. But they all have a ferryman needing to be paid, and the coins are the fees.” I placed the second coin on the eye of the girl. “It’s only a tale, and only the most superstitious would be concerned about not having them. But tradition has a comfort to it,” And I placed my hand on the girls’ still heart and looked over the row of corpses and sighed, reciting the Litany of Death.

_“No one should be alone, in life or death,_​​_Death is part of life, not an ending but a beginning_​​_Death is without deceit and has meaning,_​​_All should strive to help those to live, _​​_So, they can die at their appointed time,_​​_I will honor those who have died before me,_​​_For it is their lives and deeds that give us the world today,_​​_Bless this soul at his chosen, appointed time, _​​_So, she can lead her kin and friends onwards, _​​_So be the will of my Lord, and my desire in faith_​​_May Death grant all of you peace.”_​
I stood up with tears in my eyes, and focus some of the strands from within me, light and dark. I walked down the row, as a wave of earth flowed over each corpse, which sank beneath the loam, followed by the one next to them. I slowly stepped, interring each one swifter than any grave digger could. Finally, the last one sank within, and it was only Rosa and me that stood there. I took the marker and thrust the end deep into the soil.

“Well,” Rosa said looking at me with approval. “I can honestly say I wish my corpse were in your hands if the time comes. But I’d rather you help save my life first.”

*Sage Redoubt*​
Sage walked ponderously through the now darkened streets, taking care to avoid slipping on the slick cobblestones. A rare streak of moonlight escaped the clouds, briefly reflecting off the puddles on the street before vanishing. Sage paused for a moment, looking for any sign that the clouds might disperse, but when he was met with nothing except more rain, he continued his duty thinking to himself:

_Duty._ _Is this my duty? I was built to fight a war, to serve as a knight phantom. That was my duty. Then they chose to instead direct me to the Mror Holds, to stand vigil over a vault that no one would dare enter. That was my duty. Is my duty now to help save Denning? To kill these druids?_

As he walked through the streets, Sage looked at the houses around him. He knew even with morning no one would stir within, they were empty, gathering dust as people rested at the inn or church. It was easier to keep people safe when they were concentrated in only a few areas, but it made the streets feel abandoned and the buildings seem like empty shells.

_The Blade would say his duty is to protect and save people from threats like the vegemites. Doxx would probably say his duty is to Karrnath, or perhaps his purse. Both then have a duty to help Denning, but what about afterwards? Will these people be able to return to their lives or will they become like Adrissa?_

An image came unbidden to Sage’s mind of how Adrissa threw herself against the vegepygmies with more reckless ferocity than even the late Mobad; how afterwards she seemed to pause as if lost, as if she didn’t realize the fight was won. Sage was then shaken from his reverie rumbling of the clouds above.

_For now, at least, it doesn’t matter, we need to save Denning first, that will be my duty._

*Adrissa*​
A bright light suddenly lit, stabbing my eyes waking me from my sleep. I opened them and saw Myrai. I watched her flare ghostly wings flushing outwards and I watched them fold back in wrapping herself with them only to disappear again. It startled me as it was the first time, I had ever seen anything like this before. It was beautiful. She then lay down on a bedroll here in the Jorasco station and shut her eyes and covered them with her arm, as the other cradled a nearly empty bottle of liquor to her side.

I slowly got to my feet and looked around to see everyone but Sage in the room all resting soundly. After a moment of thought, I slipped out into the rain and onto the lonely streets of Denning. It was warm and humid outside, and the clouds were dark and gloomy. Suddenly a stray ray of light pierced through the clouds casting a dim glow on the empty buildings down the street. At first, I thought it might be the dawn, but it was still too early for that. My father always called the first beam light a ‘ray of hope.’ Hope for a new day, and new fortune.

Hope… I no longer believe in hope. Did hope save my parents? I slowly started down the desolate streets towards my destination, but as I walked, I felt like I was being watched. I dismissed it as a misjudgment. However, in the corner of my eye, I spotted Sage. He was carrying under his arms bundles of wood. I stared at him for a time, seeing that even in such weather he was still working hard and was helping make this town safer. I… I wished that I had such strength at that time then, maybe all this wouldn’t have happened.

I approached my destination as, the Temple the Sovereign, as the rain started to fall. I headed over to the graveyard and looked around. I saw what I thought to be freshly dug earth, and a simple Octogram marker set into it. I then kneeled in front of the mass grave and thought of the recently departed child. Her name was Cyra. I did not know her well, but I saw her when my family came to church. She always had with this big bright smile on her face.

For a time, I stayed there in silence and eventually I choked out the words,

“I… I am so sorry this happened to you Cyra… I wish I could have stopped this all from happening. Your life was… cut too short and I never want anyone else to become like me, parents taken…”

I covered my face with my hands, as tears drip down. I sobbed for some time and then I opened my eyes and looked up.

“I’m sorry mom… dad… it’s all my fault that you died. If only I was stronger, I could have saved you. I can’t turn back time and even if I could, I wouldn’t. I can’t. I know this is selfish of me but Boldrei, please… I can’t lose anyone else. If I do, I don’t know what I would do…”

I slowly got up and headed back to the Jorasco healing station the rain covering the tears on my face.

*Gossamer*​
It was early morning. It was getting harder and harder to see the clouds in detail, as the threatening clouds churned above the town of Denning. They hung low and dark and even managed to dim the light of the dawn, which had just started to appear in the eastern mountains. But now the clouds no longer threatened; they fulfilled their promise and started to pour rain upon the town and doused the dawn for the moment.

Gossamer sighed. From his perch over the Drover’s Rest Inn it just made his assigned job harder. He watched with unblinking eyes the front of inn looking for a child out of place. The haze of the rain now made that challenging, clouding the streets with mist. Fortunately, there was little movement on the cobble street. Most everyone was asleep at this hour; only the large warforged Sage Redoubt was working, delivering materials to the northern gate.

He understood why he was where he was. Gossamer did not need to sleep at all, and Myrai did. She may hate the dreams sleep brought, but she couldn’t dodge them forever. And yet, there was the risk of a child messenger needing something. There were too few in the town that could see, and even fewer that could and provide guidance. So Myrai set a task on Gossamer.

“Watch the Inn; if a child comes about looking for help, find me.”

Simple enough. A ledge underneath the eaves provided elevation for a view in front of the Inn. And its location was fortunate as it kept the rain off the Tressym. But it was somewhat boring, now that the children were organized. So, Gossamer sat bored, with paws curled beneath him. He wasn’t cold, but he conserved energy and sat watching as the rain fell. It was then, that a rare burst of light came through the clouds from the east, brightening the town. A momentary glimpse of a dawn’s light faded with the rain. Such things were now unappreciated by most of its citizens, blind to it.



Gossamer reflexively looked at the streets, for signs of traffic. Sage was walking away with a load of materials on his shoulders, but nothing else stirred. Then a movement on the other side of the road caught the Tressym’s attention. A child, moving quietly and alone. Gossamer at first was confused; it wasn’t heading to the Inn, so what was it doing? Gossamer stood and stretched his legs and wings and then stared at the figure creeping quietly away. It was then that Gossamer recognized the figure as the little human called Adrissa. She wasn’t trying to stay out of sight, but she was certainly avoiding making noise.

Gossamer took to the air, gaining altitude, and then locked his wings into a glide. He followed the girl with urgency, following another task set for him

“Hey, also keep an on Adrissa. I’m worried about her. Especially if she is alone.”

He watched from the air as she moved to one of the churches. Gossamer remembered that for part of the day, Myrai had spent time here with Rosa, and then later with other adults, cleaning up the dead from the streets. Before they arrived, a Vegepygmy band managed to jump a wall and caused a ruckus. It took some time for the Karrnathi patrols to catch up and deal with them, restoring order. The patrols now were more frequent and constant, but the damage was done in the sortie. It didn’t help that a number of the citizens from outside the walls had lost hope and managed to commit suicide. But all needed to be taken care of, and Myrai had them buried at one the churches, and it was this one he spied the girl heading for.

Gossamer decided to land and continue to followon paws. The beating of wings would make noise, but less so his paws on the ground. His black pelt now glistened with water beading on the fur, as he made his way into the church yard. The girl was moving to the area the recent graves had been dug, and Myrai had recently consecrated. He watched, as she approached a particular one on the side of the yard. He watched her sink to her knees in the muddy ground and saw her pray. He snuck through the grass towards some low shrubs to watch and listen.

She knelt there, crying a while. She spoke in soft tones and Gossamer could only just hear her say;

“Please…I can’t lose anyone else. If I do, I don’t know what I would do…”

Her voice trailed off, perhaps uncertain, or perhaps just choked away by the tears. Gossamer watched and waited, and soon the girl rose to her feet. Her hand clutching around herself as if she was trying to keep warm, during this unseasonable balmy rainfall. And he padded after her on the ground, staying behind her.

Adrissa was in no rush, as she slowly made her way back. Passing the Inn and returning into the Jorasco store front where the travelers, and Myrai stayed. Gossamer watched, as she slowly turned the handle on the door, and crept quietly inside.

Blinking a moment, Gossamer again took to the air. After a quick look, he found what he was looking for; a ledge underneath the awning of the Jorasco station. A place he could shake off the water and be close to the occupants. As he sat on the ledge he started to groom and waited for the question. It wasn’t long before it came.

_Where did she go?

--To the church where you were performing services. She spent time at one of the mounds, the most recent one I believe._

There was nothing for a while, while Gossamer continued to groom.

_Well, at least she came back. Did she say anything?_

--_Only a plea. Something about not losing anyone else.

I don’t suppose you wrote it down.

--I do lack the thumbs for that.

Probably not important…she’s nearing her limits.

--Possible. What should we do?

I don’t think we can do anything right now but watch and pray. If she needs to talk, it has got to be on her own terms.

--Will she?_

Again, there was a long pause before a reply:

_I don’t know it’s not something we can force though. All we can do is pray.

--For?

For her not to something rash. I am certain she hasn’t reached her ‘Appointed Time.’ So, we wait.

--Get some rest, we’ve done what we can.

But its’ never enough. _

And Myrai’s thoughts were again stilled, as she began making her way to the realms of dreams, leaving Gossamer with his own thoughts. He spread his wings, and flew back to the Inn, and resumed his vigil in the rain. All the while wondering what Adrissa’s future held.

*Session Notes:*
Sorry this one took awhile.  At the time in this campaign, several people were reflective on the various events, and each wrote a piece of fiction related to it.  So (with minor edits) I have now posted a collage of not one, not two, but three additional players; 'The Blade','Sage Redoubt','and 'Adrissa' (with their permission).

I hope you enjoy each of them getting into the headspace of their characters.


----------



## Wilpower784

Nice to see all the different perspectives here. Each of them had their own style/personality, and they were all done well. Hope there will be other opportunities to see what others add to the table in the future.

Also, looks like there’s been a lot of death lately. Hopefully, everyone gets a chance to catch a break sooner or later. Unless, Murphy’s Law has anything to say about it.


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## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> Also, looks like there’s been a lot of death lately. Hopefully, everyone gets a chance to catch a break sooner or later. Unless, Murphy’s Law has anything to say about it.



Sieges and plagues are unpleasant business.  But, throw in a cult of fanatics (The Emerald Claw) anything could happen.

A break though...that probably isn't in the cards.


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## Nthal

Material Gain - 1/27/2022​

I ran through the garbage choked alley in the rain, heavily laden with smoke and brimstone. The cobblestones were slick and I was trying to maintain my footing as my bare feet slapped against the stone. No one impeded me as I ran around the empty alley, turning corners and pulling down stacks of wooden crates as I passed them. All in a vain attempt to slow something approaching behind me. I heard wood shattering on the stone as the crates fell behind me as I continued to run. Rivulets of rain poured from my hair, and down my bare back and between my heaving bosom, as I continued to flee. As I ran, I became soaked with a deluge of filth, as all the upper stories of this infinitely tall alleyway, took to dumping their night water down into the alley below with me running through it. Still, I continued to run as my eyes watered trying to wash away the muck with my tears. I wiped my face with my hand as I tried to see where the alley led, and nearly wretched from the odor. Finally, I saw a hard turn to the left, and my feet slipping as I tried to navigate it. I managed to keep my balance, but skidded to a stop, as thunder pealed overhead.

The alley was cut short, with an imposing wall of brick in front of me. I stood upright in surprise, as a flash of lighting followed lit the wall ahead, and as thunder gave a low grumbling, I saw there painted in dark pitch a balance held by skeletal hand. But instead of being level I could see one scale pushed downwards, by the form of a golden woman laying on it. As I stood there trying to process the scene, I heard many footsteps on the cobblestone behind me, slowly approaching. I turned shivering, my breathes short as I looked at the gang behind me, each face lingering as I looked each in turn. Then I could hear them chant, as they approached, each muttering with gravelly voices, as I looked at them all and recognizing a few.

A small child, with a pair of spears protruding from her chest, pointed at me whispering.

_“Myrai.”_

A man, wearing the baldric of a Deneith Blademark, pale from exsanguination, pointed at me groaning.

_“Myrai.”_

A Genasi, hair grey with age, and whose severed head was firmly underneath his arm, and with his other hand, pointed at me, while the mouth bubbled with blood.

_“Myrai.”_

The bones of a gnome woman burned black to the core and still smoldering with embers stared with empty sockets and pointed at me hissing.

_“Myrai.”_

A wood elf, who stood smoking in front of me, her face blue and streaked with ash, and pointed at me wheezing.

*“Myrai.”*

So many were behind them; from Whitepetal. More Blademarks from here. Townsfolk. Sigilites. Elves. Humans. Gith. Gnomes. Men. Women. Children. All of them pointing at me.

*“Myrai.”*

And then, from behind the throng, a solitary figure pushed their way through. A tiefling with dark red skin, fiery red hair, and small horns. She looked at me with dead white eyes, one of them hanging from her eye socket by a strand of tissue. Around her neck, and around her mouth were stitches, now loosened with age and decay. She plodded forward, as I retreated, tripping, and falling backwards. I scrambled backwards away from the girl in horror, the rain pouring heavily on my naked form, water mixing with the filth from garbage and excrement. I pushed myself against the wall, under the symbol as the red and rotten tiefling approached. She bent at the waist and cocked her head and sneered as she spoke.

“What makes you special?” her voice was wet as she gurgled the question. “Why is it always you that lives? How do you manage not to die? Where is your soul taking you?” she reached out and wrapped her hands around my throat and began to squeeze. I wheezed for a moment, before falling silent as I wrestled with her. She stood up, pulling me off the stone and suspended me in the air. My heart pounded, and I felt pressure build in my head and lungs as I tried and failed to inhale. I hung helplessly, eyes bulging, and trying to speak with a burst, the last breath I had.

“I…I’m…sorr—” I choked before being cut off.

“Who *are *you?” Elisna said. I felt my throat collapse with a sickening crack, and she threw me against the brick wall. The bricks broke apart behind me into an endless void, as I reached for her for succor. She receded from view wearing a sanctimonious smile as I fell backward, unable to breathe, my heart pumping its last beat when I hit…

I sharply inhaled and sat up in the Jorasco station. I clutched at my neck and panted for air. I looked around me and I first saw Adrissa curled up near the fireplace sleeping peacefully. Turning my head, I was surprised to see Doxx and Rosa back-to-back sharing blankets also deep asleep. I chuckled for a moment when I was startled to hear a voice behind me.

“That one seemed worse than normal,” twisting around I saw Bookshelf seated at a table. A plate on their chest had slid open, and from it was a small frame that held a shard and a small mechanical device with many buttons or keys. Mounted on it was a small candle, which shed a dim circle of light around the warforged.

I nodded, “I don’t usually remember them. This one was different.” Sitting up fully, I pulled up my knees and lay my forehead on them. My heart and breathing were slowing, and all that was left of the dream was a muddle of feelings that twisted in my stomach. My eyes teared up as I felt one specific one well up within me.

“Why?” I choked. “Too many people died around me, and yet I survive.”

The warforged sat there unmoving and then finally shrugged its shoulders and spoke. “That is not the first time I have heard that question. Sometimes I heard it from someone laying on the battlefield I crossed, delivering a missive or command. Other times, I heard it uttered in the Jorasco tents, as they fixed soldiers, or the Cannith ones as they repaired us. And yet they all paled in comparison to the soldiers captured.”

I looked at the warforged in puzzlement. “How? I’ve seen the fields of battle but not that.”

Bookshelf again was quiet, before they began again. “Warforged captured by the enemy are treated well. We got a new mission, and new targets. Little problem there. But the others were herded into cages or fenced in barracks. They were given meager scraps; barely enough to live. Soldiers need more food to keep fighting. The prisoners were secondary concerns. Some were held for ransom, and they were better fed. But if their families didn’t respond, they had a hard time. The nature of the question changed.”

“A hard time?” I said still trying to picture what had happened.

“Sometimes a simple missive wasn’t enough. Sometimes, proof was required, and that proof needed to be delivered.” Bookshelf said flatly. “An ear. A finger. A chunk of skin with a tattoo.”

My blood ran cold, “You…you did those things.” I said in shock.

Bookshelf paused again and then spoke plainly, “A warforged does what they are told. I did this during the last year of the war, because that what was expected of me. It wasn’t until the end of the war when I first considered that what I had done wasn’t a normal part of war. That was it considered a crime under the old code of Galifar. By then it made no difference; the war was over. But those prisoner’s question didn’t change from the ones laying on the field dying, or the ones being healed not dying. The question is the same regardless of circumstances, across the living or the warforged. General to peasant levy. Young or Old. And then as now, the answer is the same.”

“What?”

“There are no answers, and one must deal with the now as best one can. No one can change your circumstance but you. Some can accept that. Many cannot.”

“Bookshelf, the things you have done. Have you come to terms with it?” I asked as I pulled myself off my bed roll, feeling very awake.

“No. I’m not sure it would change anything. It didn’t for the prisoners asking. And wondering if it is fate or ill luck is pointless.”

I sat there thinking on their words and shook my head, “That’s too cold. The gods don’t want that for us. There is meaning to every life and every death!”

“Then, why are you asking the question?” Bookshelf flatly asked me.

I stopped short. I realized I had helped others answer that question many times. Sometimes when they lived. Sometimes as they lay before me dying. And sometimes as a prayer, hoping their souls might. They took comfort in my words, or so I hoped. And it didn’t matter what the answer was, just that they had an answer. But who was I to give such assurances? Who was I to have such certainty?

_Who was I? _

“The question doesn’t have a single answer,” I replied growing angry. “It’s not even the point. It’s a plea for understanding. And you would think as someone who often gives council, that I would know the answer. But the truth is I feel like I am missing something. Like a broken vase, but where the pieces don’t fit. Helping others along the way isn’t enough. Now I feel like I’m being led by the nose and being shown death and despair for a _reason_.” I stood up in my small clothes, agitated and started to pace.

“I’ve almost died to vegepygmies. I’ve almost died to magical conflagration. I’ve almost died with a dagger in my side and a fall. Almost to a fall in Krona Peak onto a bar table. And the one time I *did* die…I wasn’t allowed to.”

Bookshelf looked at me uncomprehendingly, “Allowed? Death simply comes when your body or mind is broken.”

“Perhaps for others. But I seem to be different,” turning I faced Bookshelf. “When I died at the jaws of hyenas, I was done. I didn’t want to return. I was relieved that I had reached the end and that I would forget all the pain. But my father forced me back to life somehow. Like he had a plan. Like he wanted me to experience…death,” my voice dropped to a whisper.

Experience. It was the credo of a Sensate that the best way to learn about the multiverse was to experience it. Was it possible that I didn’t just almost die all those times…but I actually *did*?

“Why? Why is it important to him I keep dying?” I whispered.

“You are making no sense Myrai,” Bookshelf stated.

I chuckled a moment, “Probably not…but I think I understand what the question I have, really is,” I smirked and shook my head and looked down by my bedroll where my gear was, with the silvery cylinder lay; _The_ _Apocrypha. _It had been perhaps six months since I accidently found myself having a conversation with it:

_“Element Myrai cannot be informed on the purpose of duties, as it would compromise nature of purpose. Duties are defined currently as ‘passive with active engagement’ with proto-petitioners as far as element Myrai’s judgement is concerned including executions as required.”

“Otherwise, best guidance provided is similar in nature as former member of ‘Society of Sensation,’ with different parameters of focus.”_



“It looks like that I need to—” I started, when the door to the aid station was flung open, by the dripping wet form of the juggernaut, Sage.

“We have been summoned,” the warforged said flatly to everyone, now wide awake at the intrusion.

“By?” Doxx said, rubbing her eyes as she quickly scooted away from Rosa on the floor.

“Lolopethes. It appears Loramica wants a report this morning.” Sage said calmly. As we looked at each other with resignation he amended his statement. “He did say please.”

“Well, I’m sure Loramica didn’t say that.” Rosa said standing and pulling on her boots. As she did so she looked around puzzled. “Where’s The Blade?”

“I haven’t seen him since he jumped over the wall last night,” Bookshelf said as he put away his crystal and gathered their things.

“I saw him briefly last night, travelling around the alleys,” Sage said. “But he was so absorbed in what he was doing, that he didn’t respond to me shouting at him.”

“Lost in his head?” Doxx said mockingly. “I’m not surprised. Maybe he’ll find something.”

“In the alley or his head?” Bookshelf asked.

“Yes. Both.” Doxx spat.

We quickly dressed and armed ourselves and made our way to the Church of the Blood Sacrament, without The Blade. Gossamer followed us, flitting from roof to roof, ducking under eaves here and there to stay out of potential rain. As it was, the morning’s sky was covered in thick clouds. More than enough to keep the morning’s light dim and murky. The streets were still wet and slick from the rain, which also left the scent of damp, burned wood in our nostrils. After a hurried walk, we entered the grounds of the church.

The makeshift stables and tents were mostly empty, and there were several of Loramica’s soldiers fixing meals at a campfire in the center of the yard. But looking at the men there, their faces told the same tale. They were exhausted, with sagging eyes and thinning cheeks from hard labors. They might have been skilled soldiers, but they were clearly pushing themselves hard trying to patrol the town and keep the vegepygmies at bay. They looked at us with disdain, thinking we had the easier job than they and I would have been hard pressed to disagree.

We walked up to the steps to enter the church proper and were met by the elf Lolopethes. He said nothing and waved us inside. Once again, I felt ill inside the church. Its interior felt dark and cold to me, even with several braziers warming the chapel. The center still had the table set over the stone basin, and on it were even more scattered papers and maps. Leaning over it, Loramica looked only slightly better than her men. As we approached, she only glanced up for a moment, and said in an even tone, “Report.”

We looked at each other for a moment, and Doxx then stepped forward. “Ah yes. We found the druids. They were headed to an excavation of House Cannith—”

“—Cannith?” Loramica said surprised, but she didn’t look up. “Why would they be working with Cannith?”

“Ah…yes. Simply put, the Cannith group were…duped, by the druids,” Doxx explained quickly. “There was a journal of one of Cannith scions and it pretty much told us that they found the cave based on notes in a book in Cattbron.”

“A book?” Lolopethes said intrigued.

Doxx nodded and continued, “The place was thought by Cannith to be a Dhakaani installation of some sort…but we think it is…older.”

Loramica looked up from her maps and squinted at Doxx, ignoring the rest of us. “So…what is this installation?”

Sage then spoke before Doxx could respond. “It was part of an eldritch machine. Morrigon Finn had one of his disciples turn it on. We then had to flee before the place collapsed.”

“Destroying it?” Loramica asked in a guarded tone.

“No,” Bookshelf answered. “It was fully functional and buried beneath tons of rock. But I am certain that all the place did was provide energy to something else.”

“So, you just watched them turn it on?” Loramica growled between clenched teeth.

“They had a control…key and she broke it in front of us,” Rosa said. “She also said that only Morrigon had another.”

Loramica pounded her fist on the table in anger and was about to bellow something, when Lolopethes intervened. “You said there was a book in Cattbron?”

Rosa nodded, “Yes. In a journal from one of the Cannith’s discussed something about greater and lesser keys in that book.”

Lolopethes thought a moment as if he was trying to remember something before his eyes grew wide. “Of course. I have read this book. A complete chore: the gnome was very full of himself. I had stumbled on it looking for something else entirely. Paid it no mind at the time. But clearly, we need it now.”

“Shouldn’t we do something besides chase a stupid book down,” Adrissa said, her tone clearly annoyed.

“Yes, you should,” Lolopethes smiled at the girl warmly. “You should get Taget oil, and if you are lucky morning glys.”

“Didn’t you send someone for that?” Rosa asked exasperated.

“We did…but it is two days ride, and it’s been only a day.” Lolopethes said shrugging his shoulders. “But nothing is certain. So, you should at least check on it.”

“Well then if that is—” Loramica started to say when she was interrupted.

“I found the tracks!” The Blade said as he stepped out from the shadows of the room.

“Tracks?” Loramica asked exasperated.

“I spent all night searching every alleyway and found nothing,” The Blade began. “But the rain washed away the clues. But then I found a building that stood near the southern wall, and it had a rope hanging from a rafter. I used it to scale down the wall, and I found what I was looking for, trampled grass and mud. The conclusion was obvious.”

“What are you talking about?” Loramica raised her voice annoyed.

“How they were helped into the town from the southern wall from the inside, without using the gates. Then they snuck to northern wall, and then followed us to the canyon to the north,” The Blade continued, ignoring Loramica’s increasing fustration.

“WHO are THEY?” Loramica bellowed in frustration.

“The Emerald Claw troops that followed us,” The Blade said calmly.

Doxx shut her eyes tightly and raised her hand, “Yes, I was about—”

Loramica raised both of her mailed fists and pounded the table. She swept off the maps and papers in a fury pacing like a caged animal. “Of all the things we DON’T need is a bunch of…zealots running around making things worse!” She ranted, as Lolopethes bent down and started to collect the papers. She then narrowed her eyes and stomped over to Doxx. She grabbed the old woman and lifted her a up to her eye level. “And you said they *followed* you? Like they knew where you were going?”

Doxx shrugged helplessly, “They were killed by basilisks before we could ask them.”

“There could be more in town,” The Blade said. “We should ask them.”

“Do you know where they are?” Loramica said her seething gaze now focused on the elf.

The Blade stood there quietly as if in thought. Then he just said “No.”

Loramica rolled her eyes and fumed, “I don’t have the men to do a door-to-door search *and* patrol the exterior. And even if we did, they would likely just change hiding places.”

“It is more likely someone is hiding them here or that they have a safe house here, Lolopethes concurred. “It would be difficult to find. And the men are already worn out. Best for us to conserve our strength. Actually…if they are following you,” and he gestured at us. “You might just draw them out, so you can ask them yourselves.”

“So, go to Cattbron. Find out about the oil. Find a book. Hope to find some flowers. Find Emerald Claw folks following us,” I said looking the old elf in the eye. “Anything else?”

“I think that is quite enough for the group of you,” Lolopethes said. “But you must do it with haste. We don’t have much of the medicine to prevent infection; and once we run out, we will be vulnerable. But, I fear that the townspeople’s frustrations may boil over..”

“No,” I agreed. “It’s only a matter of time.”

“Time for what?” Adrissa asked me.

I grimaced and looked at her, “I’ve seen situations like this in the Hive in Sigil. The townsfolks will be getting more and more desperate. With their kids dying, and the only cure seemingly in the hands of the soldiers, they may resort to…”

“To…what?” Adrissa pressed.

“Riots. Rebellion. Violence,” Lolopethes said calmly. “All in misguided frustration and desperation.

“We need to leave,” Bookshelf said resigned.

“I will see if we can get you some riding horses from the town stable,” Lolopethes said. “We cannot afford to loan you our steeds, however.

“Then stop standing around and get moving!” Loramica yelled, and never was I happier to make myself scarce. Lolopethes followed us out, and gave polite orders to some of the men, who simply grunted and headed to the town center to find us mounts. The sky above rumbled and all I could do was shake my head and hope that the weather wouldn’t turn.

_--That went well. Back on the road.

I suppose._

I looked around the yard and sighed. Above me I heard the flapping of wings, and I watched a raven, with black feathers streaked with grey streaks on the wing alight on a roofline. It was the first bird I had seen in a while, not that I had been looking terribly hard for them. It looked like it was staring at me as it cocked its head from side to side. It sat there and pumped its breast and exhale sharply a number of times, before clacking its beak and taking to the air. As it flew over the church walls, there was a peal of thunder and the rain once again started to pour. I looked up at the clouds above, winced and said a silent prayer for us all.

We were going to need all the help we could get.

*Session Notes:*
This is a serious campaign as you may have noticed.  But really one of the things that made it tolerable were the antics of The Blade.  I probably don't do the comedy justice, but I try.

And now...lets see how Cattbron has fared since the last time we saw the town.


----------



## Wilpower784

Fantastic chapter. Loved the first part of it. Perhaps one of my favorites thus far. 

I can detect a little bit of The Blade’s comedy in his writing. I can only imagine how amusing it must be to fully experience it in a session.


----------



## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> Fantastic chapter. Loved the first part of it. Perhaps one of my favorites thus far.
> 
> I can detect a little bit of The Blade’s comedy in his writing. I can only imagine how amusing it must be to fully experience it in a session.



The player does create very interesting characters, all of them fun to dm or play off of.

I should note also, that Bookshelf's past was interesting addition, as it explored how broken a lot of warforged could be.  It took a lot of sessions to be comfortable with the direction they took the character, but honestly it led to some interesting stories.


----------



## Nthal

The Road Re-Travelled - 2/8/2022​
I was miserable, and in good company. I knew that my equestrian skills could have used some work, and I knew that I was going to be very sore at the end of the ride. When I first rode to Denning, Wy had taken great glee in pointing out how bad I was. He laughed at me when we camped as my legs just refused to function after a hard day’s travel. He was kind enough to help me limp into my tent, and to lift me onto my horse the next day.

If it was only that, I could have lived with it. But as we left the warm humid confines of Denning and headed south, the weather changed dramatically. I thought when coming north, that the warm weather would have spread farther south, and that perhaps torrential rains awaited us, or that the road was going to be a mire of wet mud. But it wasn’t.

The icy conditions that I remembered in Cattbron had seemingly moved northward, but it wasn’t a gradual change. You could see a line of white stretching east and west as a low barrier of snow several hands high spread as far as our eyes could see.

“What in Dolurrh?” Sage asked. “Cattbron was icy when I left it, but the snow wasn’t this thick this far north.”

“This isn’t natural,” Rosa commented from her pony, reaching a hand past the snowline. “It is freezing right above the snow, and sweltering on our side.” She shook her head in disbelief, “That doesn’t happen. It’s supposed to be gradual.”

“It’s the eldritch machine’s doing,” Sage said. “I think what we are seeing is that the warmth of the south has been pulled by the machine and concentrated here. It is likely to be worse as we travel farther south.”

“We’ll need to take care with the horses,” Rosa commented. “They might be magebred, but the snow and ice can cause them harm.

Adrissa looked upwards at the thick cloud cover, trying to find the sun, “We will need to keep an eye out for shelter for the night. We can’t just camp in the open.”

Our options were limited, so we started to push our mounts into the thickening snow. Fortunately, while the snow was deep it was also solidly packed, allowing us to travel through a light layer of powder on the top. But as we travelled, and the light grew dim, the wind began to pick up. I had some winter garments, but none of the layers that I wore seemed to help, as the biting wind cut through me to the bone. I pulled on strands to try to warm my armor and I, but all I succeeded with was covering my breastplate in a layer of rime, which grew thicker the longer we travelled. I wrapped my cloak tightly around me, trying to secure any warmth I could.

But it was in vain. Darkness fell around us, and snow fell from the clouds somewhere above us. The wind picked up and, turning the conditions into a blizzard, obscuring my vision, even in the darkness. The horses nickered and whined as we plodded slowly forward as their manes became covered in ice. I shivered in the cold air, and I could no longer feel any warmth from the mount I sat astride. I pulled my cloak tighter and pulled part of it over my cheeks and mouth, as I exhaled trying to warm up my hood in a desperate attempt to find relief. I was certain that no one else felt any better, as all conversations stopped as we conserved our strength for the ordeal we found ourselves in.

Adrissa had taken the lead, and we all kept our mounts nose to tail so we didn’t lose each other in the flurries around us. Gossamer had been trying to fly above us and provide guidance, but the wind and ice that formed on his soft feathers were too much for him, and he begged to be dismissed into his pocket space. I couldn’t blame him, and for once wished that someone could banish me in a realm of darkness. It had to be warmer there than where I was. My teeth chattered and I squinted ahead, as ice formed on my lashes and the hair that hung limply at the sides of my face. The wind now howled around us, as it whipped through the valley we had made for, hoping to find shelter somewhere. The howling increased and echoed all around, when suddenly The Blade shouted:

“That’s not the wind!”

I shook my hair and brushed away the ice from my face and eyes. My lashes were now caked with frost, and I pulled my rod into my hand and gripped it tightly. I feared I would drop it into the snow and ice, as I could feel nothing with my fingers but the dimmest sensation of a cold icy ache. While nothing was dark for me, my vision was no better than anyone else’s as the white snow swirled around us. But as I peered into flurries around us, I could see dark shapes in motion, moving swiftly and circling. They grew and the howls now softened as the beasts approached, becoming low snarls and growls.

They moved swiftly, as we heard the hunters suddenly pick up their pace, bounding through the snow and ice. I was focused on a shadow ahead of me growing closer and I grit my teeth against the cold and pulled a strand together, when suddenly I felt the jaws close on my right thigh, piercing leather and ripping into my flesh. I screamed in pain, as the lupine form, pulled me from my saddle and threw me down into the snow, as my horse whinnied in terror. Landing on my back I focused and threw a dark strand at the shape that towered over me and let a miasma of darkness envelop it. The wolf howled in pain and my blood grew cold as I heard it speak to me:

“Prey has some teeth…it won’t save you!”

I heard around me, the sound of several people dismounting. Then I heard the twang of bowstrings, followed by the sound of arrow shafts sinking into meat and fur. Angry growls and yelps now surrounded us. Somewhere in the cacophony I heard the growl of a bear, and the horses squealing in terror. The bear roared and I hear loud thumps and tearing of flesh, as a wolf whimpered in pain. It was followed by a crack of wood on bone over and over again, as Doxx was making an impact somewhere around me.

I staggered to my feet, and I saw green flames in the white cutting air at first, and then the sound of steel sinking into meat and cracking bone. Even with the wind blowing all around I could smell the strong scent of singed flesh and fur. The grey wolf in front of me, lips were curled into a vicious snarl, as I could see blood dripping from its teeth.

My blood.

My legs felt weak, as I struggled to stay upright, and I stared at my foe who stood a head taller than I. I could feel blood pouring down my leg and into the top of my boot, its steaming warmth rapidly fading. I was panting through clenched teeth as I started to pull a dark strand, ready to loop it around the wolf. Suddenly I heard a whoosh and saw a bead of light streak by me. I held the strand back, not yet ready to release it as flames detonated around me, burning away the snow in the air into steaming vapor. But while the snow melted away, I could feel no warmth at all, even as I saw the wolf’s fur ignite and it hissed in pain.

“Prey brings fire to fight cold. Not enough,” and I saw it exhale a cone of ice and frost at me. Any warmth within me was gone as I felt my skin and limbs grow numb. A wave of exhaustion swept over me, and I nearly fell to my knees. My brows furrowed in hate when I suddenly heard to my left the sounds of another wolf charging at me. I quickly split the strand into two and cast a loop on my new attacker, and the second around the wolf acting as bait. I pulled the strands tight and pulled at the warmth of their souls, as if they would bring warmth to my frozen self. The wolf on my flank, tumbled and fell, snapping arrows that had lodged in its rib cage. The body cringed in pain for a moment, before collapsing on the snow. The first wolf growled at me and then lunged at me, its mouth opening wide seeking my flesh.

Belatedly I realized then my shield was still slung on my horse, as I instinctively raised my left arm to block the wolf. Instead of defending myself, I found my vambrace in the jaws of the wolf and felt its cold breath over my skin as its teeth sank into me. It suddenly shook its head and I found myself off balance, being tossed around like a doll. It threw me onto the icy tundra, and I slid on my stomach farther from my comrades, as the green flame started to fade into the white snowfall. It wasted no time and pounced on me as I curled up and covered my head with my arms, desperate to protect myself.

It snapped and tried to find a soft bit of skin, but it chewed on the metal of my vambraces, its teeth scraping by ineffectually. I glanced over to my left as I fought, trying not to be a meal. Then I saw a wave of green flame cutting into another shadowy figure that howled in pain. As it did so I pulled on a white strand and flung it next to its wielder, Sage. It landed and I then pulled on it sharply with my mind.

The wolf was about to bite again, and as it came for my throat, it snapped at empty air, as I pulled my body through the strand. The wolf had a look of confusion for a brief moment, when the sound of a thunderstrike went off, and the wolf collapsed as its forelegs snapped into two. I staggered to my feet as Sage twisted and turned ready to strike, when he realized I wasn’t a foe. He quickly knelt and raised his shield and pulled me behind it while shouting “GROUND!” I ducked and I saw another bead of fire streak past us, and I heard the wolves howl in pain as another detonation of fire roared around us, providing no warmth.

After the conflagration died down, I heard a couple more twangs from bows, a growl with a sickening crunch followed by the sound of a skull cracking open. Then all I could hear was the creaking of the warforged next to me and the wind whipping around us.

“I can barely see!” I heard Doxx yell. “Did we get them all?”

“I don’t see any moving around,” I heard Adrissa say.

“Same,” said The Blade. “I don’t even hear anything running.”

I stood up straight and looked around. While the wind had slowed, and the flurries were less dense it was still hard to see. But nevertheless, I could see no shadowy wolves stalking us. “I don’t see anything,”

“GROWF!” I heard Rosa say as a bear. She moved forward into the snow and sniffed the ground. She then turned and with an awkward motion, appeared to wave at us, as she loped into the blizzard.

“What is she doing?” Bookshelf asked, as the warforged worked to retrieve our horses and calm them.

The Blade stood there and watched, “I think she wants us to follow. Perhaps there are more.”

“I’m already torn up a bit,” Doxx exclaimed. “And wet and cold. I don’t want to find more.”

Rosa came back from the Blizzard and waved at us again with more urgency and waited.

“Let’s follow her,” I said. “She must have something going on in her bonebox.”

“Her what?” Doxx yelled at me.

“Her bonebo…head. Skull!” I yelled back.

“Let’s move,” Sage said as he took a firm grip of the reins of his horse, and moved through the snow towards Rosa. We each did the same, and followed the bear through the wind and ice, and approached a hillside. We circled around it until we were at the leeward side of it, and there was an exposed side of rock. In the middle of the rock face, it was a large hole, rimed with ice and leading down. The Blade, Adrissa and I moved to the entrance, and peered within. To my eyes it was a triangular cavern, which narrowed to a point deep inside. The floor looked to be strewn with loose gravel in the middle, but on the edges were clusters of leaves and needles, easily large enough for one of the giant wolves to lay in.

“Rosa must have followed their scent to find it,” The Blade said triumphantly, when he stopped and sniffed the air. “Or…that’s pungent. Even I could follow that smell with my nose.”

I stepped inside to get a better look, and quickly saw the source of the smell. Several carcasses lay off to the side of the chamber. I moved closer to them, and my heart sank at what I saw.

“It looks like two of Loramica’s men. They…didn’t make it.”


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Caught up again   

Still thoroughly enjoying the story (and finding out a bit more about Eberron).


----------



## Nthal

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Caught up again
> 
> Still thoroughly enjoying the story (and finding out a bit more about Eberron).




I love the setting in general, as the adventures that can be had are quite varied.  The power groups have depths, and it isn't clear if a group is a friend or foe...with some obvious exceptions like the Lords of Dust or the Dalkyr.

I do know it isn't everyone's cup of tea, in the same way that Faerun isn't everyone's either.  But I am enjoying the exposition for those who aren't familiar with it, in the same way Myrai isn't.


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## Nthal

Illuminating Darks - 3/2/2022​
I knelt by the corpses and looked at the pair carefully. Their faces were puffy, and their noses had turned a deep black color. Their limbs were torn away from the torsos, but overwise, it didn’t look like the wolves had spent much time with them and looking beyond them were the much more thoroughly cleaned bones of horses. So, while their teeth while capable of piercing steel, they weren’t as good at undoing buckles. They killed them all, but spent time on easier to get to horseflesh, leaving the two men to rot. I brushed away the loose hair on their faces and closed their eyes for the final time before standing.

“I’ll bury them later, but they’ve been here a while, killed by these wolves,” I said sadly.

“They never got to Cattbron,” Sage remarked. “That means no oil is coming. It is up to us—”

“You!” Adrissa barked as she stomped over to the surprised warforged. “You hurt me!”

“I was protecting you,” he said levelly. “Or trying,” as he gestured at her. It was then that I saw she covered in blood on her left side. I moved over to her as she glared at the warforged and continued her tirade.

“Bashing me with your shield onto the snow is protecting me?” Adrissa berated the juggernaut towering in front of her.

“The winter wolves breathe frost that can kill a man—” Sage started.

“—Killed two of them and their horses—” Doxx pointed out interrupting.

Sage ignored it and continued over him, “And knocking you down allowed me to pivot and block the blast with my shield.”

“I can fight on my own. I’m not a child,” the girl seethed.

“I disagree,” Sage said flatly. “Even if you have been forced to grow up, you do not have the bulk of a fully grown human.”

Adrissa simply growled. Looking at her side, I found that one of the wolves must have snapped and tore into her right below the ribs. I put a hand on her side and reached within for a white strand, and I wove a lattice over the wound. Once complete, I pulled on it and gently snapped it. I could see the magic take effect as the wound closed and she reacted.

“Ow…that hurts,” she hissed as she looked down at me and then her mending flesh. “Why does healing hurt?”

“I…I don’t know really,” I admitted having never questioned it before. “Healing without magic can hurt too though, and it takes longer. It might be the price of speeding your body to heal.”

She watched as her skin closed, and the bruising beneath the skin faded. I then pulled on another white strand and used it to wipe away the blood from her skin and jerkin. Finally, I used white and dark ones, to mend her clothes and armor, fixing rents in the material. I looked up at her and met her eyes and saw that the dark thoughts that had been there moments ago had faded. They were replaced with curiosity, as she watched me magically stitch her back together.

“I…I…thought you only could—”

“—Killed people?”

She frowned and thought for a moment. “I guess. I’ve seen you do all sorts of things that caused pain.”

“Sorry that this was one as well,” I said with a small smirk.

“But you smile at doing both. Why?”

I turned away from her trying to hide my face from her. I didn’t realize that I was doing that, projecting an image of happiness during our fighting. I felt ashamed; it wasn’t something I should enjoy. The idea I was drinking in the violence like a cat basking in the glow of a sunbeam was repulsive.

“It probably was me gritting my teeth together,” I lied and I didn’t look up to see if she believed me.

“GROWfff…Anyone else with wounds?” Rosa said as the fur and claws receded and the halfling within emerged.

“Myrai has been bitten!” Adressa pointed at my thigh, where thick clots of blood had formed bonding my leather pants to my skin

“I can take care of that in a bit,” I said.

“I evaded the assaulting wolves with ease due to my honed skills,” The Blade said with a note of pride.

“That’s because you stand behind everyone,” Doxx said irritated.

“That’s the skill part,” The Blade retorted.

“Believe what you want,” Doxx said exasperated. “I did get some scrapes Rosa,” and Rosa moved over to the old woman and looked at her arms. “Still its cold in here.” I would have thought your ball of fire would have at least warmed us.”

Bookshelf stood there quietly for a moment before speaking, “I didn’t want you to feel it, so I controlled it so only the wolves would burn. But I can do something else about the cold. Gather close.”

The warforged walked to the center of the cave, and pulled out from a compartment on its chest, a yellow crystal. As we moved next to him, he started to mutter as runes floated to the surface of the shard. As Rosa healed the others, he continued to murmur quietly. Then I could feel the strands reacting to the ritual as the spell started to manifest

From the ground I saw what appeared to be glass shards grow out of the ground, and then from each other. It surrounded us in a perfect circle with Bookshelf at the center, and it continued to grow and arc above us. As it grew taller, the edge that touched the cave floor became thinner and smoother. The insides of the crystal glowed with a warm light, and I could feel warmth emanating from them as well. Eventually the crystal arced over us, until we were covered in a dome of crystal. As the crystal closed above us, it gave off a warm glow, and I could feel the chill in the air lessen.

Doxx looked around dubiously, “The warmth is nice, but the light will attract—”

“—No one can see the light from the outside,” Bookshelf said evenly. “You all can leave the confines. Just walk through it. I however must remain inside so the ritual will not be broken.”

Doxx’s face changed to one of approval, “That is a handy ritual.”

“I may wish to copy that one if you would permit,” Sage said.

“As would I,” I said. “But I’m going to bury these soldiers first. They deserve better, but it’s something.” The others nodded and helped me move the bodies outside. The snow was relatively deep, but I was able to push it aside with some light and dark strands, deep enough to lay them in. I recited the litany, once again and replaced the earth, and Sage was able to smooth the snow over the graves. We then returned to the warmth of the dome.

I unrolled my bed roll, sat, and then looked to my own wound. The pain was returning as my body thawed, the cold no longer numbing the gash. The leather of my pants was torn and shreds of it were now embedded in the thick scabs that had formed. Fixing my pants would be easy, but I needed to get the leather out of my wound so it could heal properly.

I pulled out the wand and tapped it, conjuring up a simple servant of force.

“E koka mai’i ia waho o koʻu sapa nila.”

The straps were pulled taut, allowing the buckles to be popped open. I undid the various belts holding up pouches, and my weapons, and laid them down next to my bedroll, except for a dagger in its sheath, which I kept in hand. Nearby Adrissa lay on her own bedroll and watched me quietly. It wasn’t long before the last buckle gave, and my armor fell away from my body. The back and front of the breastplate hung there for a moment, before drifting to the ground. As they fell, I focused and called forth Gossamer.

_--“Nonono not the…cold? Its warm! Much bett…ouch. That’s a nasty bite.”

“Tell me about it. We’re supposedly safe in here, but well...go fly out of the dome and back in and check.”

--“And why would I do that?”

“Goss—” 

--“—I bet its cold outside this dome.”

“It’s refreshing. Go on, you don’t need to stay out long.”

--“Fine…”_ the tressym thought back and turned its nose up at me before flying out of the dome and the cave.

My armor now off, I unlaced the tops of my breeches, and pulled them down halfway down my thigh. I whispered in my native tongue, “Oka ea kai mai koʻu ʻiʻahu,” and the dagger left the sheath, which I dropped. I then slowly pulled them down towards my calves. The dagger cut the leather that was embedded in my skin leaving it in the wounds, while I was able to drop my breeches all the way down.

I sat down, and looked at the bite, and took the dagger that hovered in the air, I then slowly cut into the wound grimacing in pain. Then I gently pulled out the leather that was embedded there.

“Couldn’t you just heal it up?” Adrissa asked.

“Not always,” I said. “If the magic is strong enough, the wound closes and anything that isn’t supposed to be there just comes out. Things like arrowheads. But its better to remove anything that isn’t supposed to be there just in case.” I then pulled from myself a light strand and wrapped it around my thigh. I looped it around multiple times before I pulled on it, sundering it. I felt the warmth and a spike of pain, causing me to hiss behind my teeth. But the pain subsided as the wound closed and the scab like material fell away revealing smooth skin once again.

“Must be nice not having scars,” Adrissa said wistfully as she looked at my now healed flesh.

“Only on the outside,” I muttered as I sat down cross legged on the bedroll. I took the bits of leather from my wound and my breeches, and used light and dark strands, weaving around them like I did with my leg moments ago. But while it was easier to do, it took much longer to repair them. I focused on my breeches as the others spoke.

“We can cook up some of the wolves I suppose” Doxx said her face scrunched up.

“No need for that,” Rosa said as she focused a moment, and produced a cluster of berries in her hand, each the size of an acorn. “This will keep hunger away.”

“It is strange how these even help us,” Sage said as he awkwardly put a berry into his mouth and gnashed the fruit. “We can consume potions, to heal ourselves. But eating food is strange.”

Rosa thought a moment and looked at Sage then at Bookshelf, “So you can swallow things.”

“Yes,” said both Sage and Bookshelf at the same time.

“Food and drink right,”

“Yes?” Both said. “Why?” asked Bookshelf.

“So do…warforged…ever have to…” and Rosa waved her hand and leaned forward expectantly.

The two warforged looked at each other and then turned to Rosa again and Bookshelf said, “We do wave our hand like that. Usually as part of an incantation.”

Rosa grimaced, “No no, not that,” and she put her hand down as she tried to find a delicate way to ask the question. “Do warforged have to—”

“—Do regular maintenance?” Sage suggested.

“Nono…not quite, I mean—”

“She’s asking if you drop turds in the forest,” Doxx said exasperated. At the utterance, Adrissa coughed as she was caught in mid sip from a water skin.

“Oh. That. We do not,” Bookshelf stated simply.

“That makes warforged hard to track down,” The Blade said. “They don’t have patterns like dining out or needing to find a privy.”

I looked up from my work, confused, “You stalk people by the privy?”

“Oh. That. I do…sometimes,” The Blade admitted. “Easier to find criminals alone that way.”

“That does make tactical sense,” Sage said, nodding in approval.

“I’m sorry I asked,” Rosa said, her cheek flushing red.

I winced and nodded in silent agreement. My breeches were now repaired; the large rents from the wolf’s fangs, closed just like the wound on my thigh. I sat there quietly, steeling my resolve. After letting out a sigh, I reached over to my pile of belts, and pulled open the leather case, which held _The Apocrypha._ I held it in my hand looking at it with a small amount of dread. But there was no way to put it off; I needed answers.

I pulled out a stinger from my pouch and flexed. I felt the rush up and down my back as the ghostly wings flared for a moment, and the silver coin now glowed with a dim yellow light. I put the coin down on my knee, and then I pulled out tabs from the _Apocrypha_ and looked for the section I needed. I then moved it so the section called “Rituals of Binding” was now illuminated by the lit coin, causing a single glyph in a stack to light up, and become readable.”

“What are you doing?” Adrissa asked, her head cocked in confusion.

“I’m doing a ritual to…find to guidance, or at least ask for it.” I said before correcting myself. “Well, more like demanding answers overdue.”

Adrissa nodded and said, “I have no idea what that means.”

I chuckled and smiled at the girl, “Well, I don’t usually ask for much. But I feel that I am owed an explanation. I will be in meditation to get it…I think.”

Adrissa shrugged, “Alright.” And she watched me doubtfully.

I sighed. The last time I did this there was a compulsion to do this; this was the first time I had tried to cast this intentionally. I focused myself and started to pull on strands, light and dark. I imagined them forming a circle around me, with the strands interweaved together. I pulled in every strand, every thread I had in me and then I looked at the text and said aloud.

“Mitate an texi ciro animun metanan.”

At the last syllable escaped my lips I could feel the world spin around me, as the mystical circle held firm. To my eyes, I saw colored lights, and the smells of spices in my nose as the weave started to tear around me, hurling my senses into darkness and then into a glittering expanse I had seen only once before.

I hung there in the open air, naked. My skin was covered as it was the last time in a lattice of silvery patterns. But now their complexity was greater. The fibers of magical power, the strands that connected me to the firmament around me, were thicker, and I could feel the power coursing through them into me. There were now more of them as well, with four white and four dark ones attached to me. I had barely a moment to think about it further, when I heard the voice again in my head, speaking in celestial.

“Element Myrai has returned. You are overdue to—” it started before I cut it off.

“Oh no you don’t. This isn’t about your agenda. Not this time. I’m here to get some answers,” I said aloud, even as the voice echoed in my head.

“Element Myrai should state the query in—” it started again, and immediately I cut it short.

“No. Not from you.” I said resolutely. The statement echo’d and hung there a moment before it replied.

“Who are—” it started again.

I crossed my arms and ‘stood’ in the air firmly as I demanded from the magical construct around me, what I wanted. What I needed now.

“I want to talk to my father. Now.”

*Session notes:*
It was overdue.  Sorry about the delay here, but this part somehow wasn't jelling in timely fashion, and real life got busy.  

The conversation of the warforged excretory systems used harsher language than this forum allows.  I'm sure you can all handle it, like any other middle schooler does.


----------



## Wilpower784

Good update. Lots of neat parts all throughout it.

Additionally, I got the notification that it’s the anniversary of my account here, so happy 1 year anniversary to me reading through Myrai’s adventures.


----------



## Nthal

*Constructs and Observations.*​
Floating in the middle of somewhere, I could do little more than wait. The flickering lights surrounded and defined the place with a dim glow like the clearest night sky full of bright stars. In the distance trailed away from me strands of light and darkness. Both shed light around themselves, although how the dark strands did this, was a mystery. I didn’t understand the place I was in; if it was in my head, if I was projecting my soul somewhere else, but its twilight like beauty was undeniable. But I wasn’t here because I wanted to view the scenery. My last visit was confounding; a strange place and even stranger revelations; neither which I understood. But while the nature of the place eluded me, it was the revelations I wanted to discuss. Or I supposed, demand it be discussed.

So, I wasn’t shocked at all at the lack of a response from the construct. The last time, I left with only a partial answer, and a last moment understanding that it was my celestial father was tied to this…place. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say, he tied to me to it. I was bound to these strands unable to escape them, much like a fly in a spider’s web. But it didn’t volunteer this information then either. I demanded it, got a response I would have expected from a modron, and then only then, learned the sender behind it. So, I waited for an inevitable answer, strung in complex jargon and phrasing. A ‘no.’ But now I hung there, waiting. I had expected a swift denial. But, somewhere in this place, the construct was doing something I couldn’t perceive.

“Element Myrai—" started the monotone voice of the construct echoed in my head, startling me. “—you have already been informed on the purpose of your duties. There is no need—”

“—Pike it!” I spat aloud. “I understand my ‘duties’ just fine. Never mind I had to browbeat it out of you. And I’m done with that as well. I want to communicate with my father, not you.”

“Element Myrai must then demonstrate knowledge pertaining to their—”

“—No.” I said pointedly.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and the construct started again. “Element Myrai must comply, and demonstrate—”

“—No,” I said crossing my arms and I glanced around the space. “I will not play this game. So tell my father I want to speak to him, now.”

Once again there was empty silence as I floated there. “Construct is unable to comply with element Myrai’s request.”

I looked around me, as if I would find a source of the voice in my head. I wanted to glare and focus my annoyance on something tangible. But, I straightened up and said, “Well then. Element Myrai is unable to comply with further…what did you call it, ‘passive with active engagement with proto-petitioners.’ Go find someone else.”

“Other options are not longer viable. Element Myrai must comply and perform duties.” The construct rumbled in my head.

“No longer ‘viable?’ What in Baator does that mean?”

“Your predecessors have been discorporatated. You are the last viable candidate.”

My curiosity got the better of my willpower as I slowly asked, “What does that mean…discorporated? Dead?”

“Simplistic. The soulcase is dead. However, the soul has been—”

“—What reborn? Am I it?”

“No. The soul no longer exists.”

“No…longer…exists,” I enunciated slowly, feeling cold. “So…gone…forever.”

“This is accurate.”

My stomach clenched at the thought, and I shook my head. That was a fate reserved for souls beyond redemption, and not fit to be reborn. It was said that Kelemvor would judge souls, and those deemed faithless or false, would be entombed into the ‘Wall of the Faithless’ and be absorbed into it. But I also had heard that in the lower planes, souls were placed into something called a ‘soul coin’ that could be traded…or consumed by the immortals there. It was a horrid concept that a soul of any worth could be eliminated that way. But this only steeled my resolve.

“Then if I am the last option, if I am at risk of ‘discorporation,’ I think…no *demand *that I talk to him, and get some answers,” I said through clenched teeth, my frustration starting to change into anger. “Why should I risk this? Why should I *care?*”

“It is imperative that element Myrai comply.”

“No,” I said calmly. “I have survived a lot, but I am sure I could find something to kill me. You can force me back like you did the first, and I’ll just keep trying. Because I have a hunch, is that someone is out of time. Aren’t you?”

There was another round of silence, and after a moment it responded, almost managing to sound resigned. "Construct will make arrangements,” I was about to object, but it continued. “Paternal figure cannot be easily reached at this time. A message will be sent with your...threat.”

I frowned but I realized that this construct of magic couldn’t compel a celestial to do anything. Being this was the best offer that could be made I grudgingly nodded, “Fine. You do that. I won’t wait forever though.”

“A reply of some nature will be forthcoming. Observation, element Myrai is obstinate and willful, similar to her—”

“—just like my father. Figures.”

“Incorrect. Traits are similar, but not the same. Element Myrai best resembles her predecessor.”

That stopped me short as I thought about it and realized something, “Predecessor? My father had other children before me. So, I had a half-sibling?”

“Correct.”

“A…sister? A brother?”

“The element Cryl identified as male.”

“Cryl,” I said quietly. A name. Names have power, and this one unlocked a longing I hadn’t felt in a long time. I had only one other I considered family, but she was kin by necessity, to survive growing up. I missed her greatly. But not once had I considered that I had anything more than an absent father or a dead mother.

“I will have to ask about him as well,” I said to myself, and then addressed the construct. “How long will this take?”

“Several sunrises. You will know when it is time. You may depart after some infusion of loci.”

“Wha…oh no! Not that agai—” and I was cut off as a pair of strands, one light and one dark, flew straight into me from the darkness. It was more painful than the last time, but I soon shook in the afterglow as the power flowed into me, taking my breath away. I watched with mouth agape as the strands bound themselves, and wove together into even more intricate braid. I felt out of breath, and it took me a moment to finally utter, “Could you…at least…warn me first?”

“Assimilation of loci complete. Configuration of loci for offensive and informative functions,” the construct intoned.

“Wonderful—”

“End of Construct.”

“What? No no wai—” and I inhaled sharply as my eyes fluttered open. I was still sitting on my bedroll, but it seemed that some time had passed. The light I had manifested, was gone and I could see Adrissa nearby asleep. Looking around, Rosa and Doxx were also slumbering in their bedrolls. Meanwhile Bookshelf’s driftglobe hovered over their shoulder as they studied a crystal, a siberys I believed. Meanwhile I saw that Sage and The Blade were both standing and looking outside the dome talking in hushed tones.

“It can’t see us, right?” The Blade asked.

“No,” Sage said quietly. “I am familiar with this spell. It can see the dome, but not what is within.”

I stood up, still holding the _Apocrypha_ and approached the pair. “What’s going on?” I said in a hushed tone.

Neither looked at me, but Sage turned his head slightly and continued. “A visitor is watching us,” and he pointed outside the cavern.

The light of the rising sun was just creeping across the clouds, turning them a dull orange. The woods here had thinned, with individual pines scattered here and there. There on a branch of a gnarled leafless oak tree was a raven with grey streaked wings, while the rest of it was a pitch black. It struck me as familiar as realized that I remembered seeing one like it in Denning, just as we left. Its head made quick turns here and there, but its gaze always settled back looking towards us. But something about it seemed familiar.

“It’s following us,” Sage said.

“That’s ridiculous,” The Blade stated. “Why would a bird follow us? A handout?”

“I saw it in Denning. It stood out because of the grey striping.” Sage argued.

My mouth dropped open. “It…It can’t be.” I said.

“Can’t be what?” Sage asked.

“It looks…the coloration makes it looks like an Executioner’s Raven,” I said dumbfounded. “But it’s too small.”

“I have never seen a grey striped raven before,” The Blade said. “Or even a grey one. All the ones I’ve seen in Sharn are solid black.”

“As were the ones I saw on the Sword Coast,” I concurred nodding.

“What do you mean ‘it’s too small?’” Sage asked.

“Executioner Ravens are…about my size. And their wings twice as wide,” I said outstretching my arms.”

“That would be a big raven,” The Blade admitted. “Could it be one? A young one?”

I shook my head, “The chicks are much larger and are a mottled grey and white fuzzy puff balls. Kinda cute I suppose, but the adults are nasty. That bird is smaller than a chick.”

“Still, its out in the freezing cold,” Sage said. “No nest, or cover. What bird would do that willingly.”

“Not a real one,” I said. “But a familiar would. A familiar of someone that either was creative or has actually seen an executioner raven. Someone who has been…to Sigil.”

The pair looked at me, “Perhaps that’s a coincidence. But how we can tell if it is a familiar?”

“Give me a moment,” and I pulled out a strip of metal from the _Apocrypha_. I started to whisper under my breath in celestial. The Blade and Sage watched me as I read the incantation over and over, slowly pulling on a white strand and wrapping it around my eyes. Then I pulled on it and snapped it and looked at the bird.

The raven continued to gaze in our direction, but my perception of it was now altered. It seemed to be covered in a cloud that appeared to be a sickly dark green. Unsure about what I was seeing, I turned around and looked for Gossamer. It took only a moment to find him, as he had decided to nap on my bedroll. But what made him so easy to find, was that he appeared to be surrounded in soft blue nimbus. But as I looked around, no person gave off the same light; not the people, not the horses in the back of the cavern. I returned my gaze to the raven saw again the green cloud around it.

“It’s a familiar,” I confirmed. “It’s not a celestial one, like Gossamer. But…it’s not a fiend either.”

“Then what is it?” The Blade asked.

“It might be a fey,” Bookshelf commented from his seat on the cavern floor.

“If that is a fey…it is a really, really rotten one,” I said looking at it with disgust now.

“Perhaps it is Unseelie,” Bookshelf commented, still studying his crystal.

“Great, now what?” I asked and I had barely gotten the words out of my mouth, when in a quick motion The Blade nocked an arrow, stepped outside the crystalline dome and loosed it at the bird. The raven didn’t move at all as the arrow struck it in the breast, causing it to fly off the branch. But as it sped to the ground, the body seemed to evaporate into a mist, all the while I swore, I heard…laughter, cold and mocking. Sage and I turned to look at The Blade as he walked back inside.

“We probably should have discussed that,” Sage started as I looked at the elf incredulously and nodded.

“No point,” The Blade said with pride. “There is no reason to allow it to spy on us with obviously criminal intent.”

“Won’t its master get suspicious?” Sage asked, and at the same time Bookshelf stood and moved closer to us, looking at the Blade curiously.

“They’ll know that it is gone,” I said. “It’s like a glass cracking in your head. But, they won’t see what had happened unless they were close and concentrating—”

“—See?—” The Blade said looking at me approvingly.

“—But they’ll just resummon it, and learn what happened anyway.”

“—Oh.” The Blade said, slightly defeated. “No matter. It will take a while for it to find us again.”

“We were following a road that leads to Cattbron,” Sage said shaking his head. “The only one. We are not going to be hard to find.”

“Erk…keep it down,” Doxx said from her bedroll. “What did our dark brooding elf do now?”

“The Blade shot a familiar spying on us,” Bookshelf said calmly.

“Alright…good for him,” and Doxx turned over to try to fall back to sleep. But not two heartbeats later, she jumped and stomped over to the rest of us. “You what?” she said giving the elf a withering glare.

“Sage claimed that a raven was following us, and you are concerned that I shot it?” The Blade said mystified.

“Wait? What raven?” Doxx said confused.

“Oh…you mean the one from Denning,” Rosa said yawning as she sat up.

“You are all out of your mind? There was no raven following us!” Doxx said getting more agitated.

“Ugh,” Adrissa groaned and looked at the old woman, “Why are we talking about the raven?”

“Because The Blade just shot it,” Sage said.

Adrissa nodded, “Good. I didn’t like how that one looked at us anyway,” and she stretched and started to put on her armor.

“See? She shows promise!” The Blade beamed, before frowning. “Wait, you noticed it was following us, and didn’t mention it?”

“I think the point is we should have discussed whether we should shoot it,” Bookshelf said calmly.

“Wait,” Doxx said in shock. “You all aren’t kidding? There was a raven following us, and no one mentioned it?”

“It wasn’t exactly hiding,” Sage pointed out.

“I thought everyone knew,” Adrissa said with a shrug, and everyone else except The Blade started to nod.

“Well…crap,” Doxx said dejectedly. “Well, that’s done. We better move, before another one can find us.”

“That, I agree with,” Sage said. “Let’s get moving before the weather turns.”

We all turned, and moved to our respective bedrolls to decamp, and I sighed saying, “Well, we might have at least questioned it.”

“Wait,” The Blade said. “You could have questioned it?”

I nodded, “Rosa was able to talk to Gossamer, and I know a similar ritual. So now we know we’ve been followed. But not who.”

“It’s obvious really,” The Blade said calmly.

“Who then?” I asked and then three people spoke at once:

“The Emerald Claw,” said The Blade.

“Moragon,” said Rosa.

“Melisandre,” said Doxx.

The two warforged just looked at each other and groaned, while Adrissa blurted out what was going through my head. She glared at everyone and said:

“You are all idiots.”

*Session Notes:*
Well...enough self created drama, because I promise you all, the next installment will put us back into the action, and maybe just maybe, you will get to meet the worst wizard in the world.

Just saying.


----------



## Richards

That's...quite an echo you've got going there!  (Other than the "Session Notes," your entire post is duplicated.  Got pasted in twice or something?)

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

Richards said:


> That's...quite an echo you've got going there!  (Other than the "Session Notes," your entire post is duplicated.  Got pasted in twice or something?)
> 
> Johnathan



Thanks for pointing it out.  Didn't see the double paste.


----------



## Wilpower784

Poor Myrai. She fought so hard for that audience for her father. 

Cryl is interesting. We’ll see if that goes somewhere.


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## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> Poor Myrai. She fought so hard for that audience for her father.
> 
> Cryl is interesting. We’ll see if that goes somewhere.



It better and he was.  The reference for who he was mentioned by King Melandrach in the last part of Souls of Legends.   It is all about the details.


----------



## Nthal

It Tastes Like Chicken - 3/30/2022​

The sun was rising behind the Ironroot mountains, somewhere behind the thick grey cloud cover. We thought it might be just early, but as we rode it became clear that what light we had was the best that could be hoped for. The twilight conditions made riding through the thick snow a slow trek. Fortunately, the snow didn’t seem to daunt the magebred steeds, and they plodded ahead, crunching snow under hoof. The bright spot in all of this, was that it wasn’t snowing. Yet. The threat hung overhead, but as time passed, it appeared to an empty one.

But as we progressed, it became colder and colder. Everyone had pulled out blankets and wrapped themselves within, relying on the heat from the horses to stay warm. I was constantly using white strands on my armor, to both warm it, and stop the accumulation of frost. It wasn’t a fire’s heat, but it was something I could do. The others handled their problems of staying warm in very creative ways.

The warforged didn’t seem to care about the cold, but they did seem concerned about their joints freezing in place. They rolled their shoulders, stretched their arms, and even walked ahead of their horses so they could stay mobile. But otherwise they said nothing. The Blade was also not used to the cold weather, and wore a blanket under his great leather cloak the cowl up and pulled close to his skull. I even noticed that he had put on layers of masks, one on top of the other, to keep more of his face from the elements. Adrissa was smaller than almost all of us, and she just folded over blankets on top of themselves, doubling the layers.

But it was Doxx and Rosa that made much more unique choices. Doxx usually wore the face of an old woman, rail thin and bent. And while she was still an old woman, she was now plump, seemingly adding six or seven stones worth of weight to herself. So while she didn’t fit in her clothes well, the bulk added warmth. Rosa took this to a different level, and stopped riding her pony entirely and just became a white furred bear that looked like it had consumed enough to sleep through winter. I admitted that I was envious; I would love to experience the world in different shapes, to fly in the air, or soar beneath the waters of lakes or oceans. But I would have settled for a fur coat of any kind.

This left Gossamer out, his fur and body weight not enough to keep him warm. My blankets didn’t leave enough room for him to snuggle comfortably either. So he sullenly asked to be put in his extra dimensional space to wait. It wasn’t warm there, but it was far from freezing. I didn’t even bother to ask him to scout ahead, as just a couple moments of flight was enough to gather ice on his wings. So he moped in his space, clearly not wanting to admit that he wanted to be in his hiding space.

The wintery landscape had changed, into flat plains, and we left the stands of trees behind us. While it wasn’t snowing, there wasn’t much to see but endless white in all directions. Everything was hushed, except for the sounds of hooves crunching the snow. I doubted that wolves or anything else could sneak up upon us in the open. And nothing did. But as the cold increased, we finally could see it again; the wall.

It reached from the snows and plunged upwards into the roiling grey clouds, while spreading out and curving to the left and right out of sight. As we tread farther south, it just grew and grew, and features on it became more distinct. The thick trunks of thorns weaved around themselves. It seemed that from them, puffs of snow and ice constantly fell from the twisting shoots from far heights. But the tops were concealed high in the cloud cover, giving no indication how high they grew. Around the tops, lightning flowed through the clouds, flashing brightly within. Occasionally you could see a fork streak across the sky, illuminating the walls, so you could see thin twisted shadows between the huge stalks. The stalks were a darker shade of grey, edged with white ice, and thorns pointing every which way, which meant they had to be massive. It reminded me distantly of razorvine in Sigil, although snow and ice were rare occurrences within the city. More and more of it became clearer as we all approached. Finally we came to the top of a ridge and could look down into Cattbron.

Cattbron was in a low valley, bisected by the Lightning Rail like the river did in Denning. The buildings’ chimneys blew smoke into the air, giving it a hazy quality. Every building was topped with thick snow, and the streets were clogged, almost burying the smaller buildings completely. But some work had been made to clear streets, as there was snow piles, on the road leading into town. As the light faded, it was clear that life was normal as could be for a spring day as everbright lanterns illuminated the streets.

“It looks snowed in, but otherwise fine,” The Blade noted, sounding muffled under his cowl.

“Well, the vegethingies didn’t get this far,” Doxx muttered between chattering teeth. “Probably means eyerot isn’t here either.”

“Let’s find the Cannith enclave here,” Sage said after a moment. “Between its library and stores, we might as well secure what we can. Afterwards, you can all rest in the Golden Dragon here.”

“Do we have to?” I asked between chattering teeth. My armor just seemed to soak in the cold and with each breath I took, the frigid air seemed to burn in my chest. “Can’t we warm up first?”

“I want to see this book, and read it while you rest,” Bookshelf said. “The tagget oil can wait until morning.”

“To Cannith then,” The Blade said with a touch of bravado. “It should be dusk by then and shadows up in full. Just the way it should be, in case we need to interrogate the tinkers there.”

“Growfff…Gro…I don’t think we need to treat them as criminals,” Rosa said her voice changing from deep and husky to her normal soft alto tones. She had just shed the form of the white bear, and gave The Blade a reproachful look.

“We should be prepared!” The Blade insisted, swiftly replacing his current rime covered mask, with a clean black leather one from a pouch at his side. “If they aren’t criminals, they have been criminally duped. So, they will act like criminals and deny any involvement, so we should just save time and treat them as such.”

Doxx opened her mouth to say something, and then just shook her head instead. Rosa just shrugged. “As you like. Let’s do this swiftly and get warm again.”




The streets were deserted, as anyone with sense was indoors staying warm. But they were lit, with everbright lanterns shining in the now dark streets. The shadows seemed to creep in from snow choked alleys, and small flakes of snow descended from above, with a trace of a cold breeze causing the snow to drift in front of our approach. We made our way to the cut in the town, where the lightning rail was, and to start our search for the Cannith Enclave. It wasn’t hard to find, as it was a large warehouse like building, next to the House Orien rail station. It was big, and made of red brick, and was taller than any of the other buildings in town. High on one side facing the street parallel to the raid, was a large coat of arms, with a bull made of iron staring straight ahead. Below it was an open area, covered from above from the elements, with a pair of iron bound doors.

Before heading there, we stopped next to the Golden Dragon Inn, and gave them our horses to board for the night. My legs were still in agony from the ride, stiff and barely able to move, and I stumbled forward with a little difficult as we crossed the road and approached the doors. On one of the was a sign:

Cannith East Enclave

We are closed due to weather

Night deliveries use the intercom next to the door

“What’s an intercom?” Doxx asked. Both the warforged looked at each other and shrugged.

“I am not familiar with such a thing,” The Blade said. “Sharn uses speaking crystals on some estates in Skyledge.”

“It must be this,” Adrissa said, and she moved to the right side of the doors. Attached to the brick wall was copper tube which had one end enter the wall, and that stuck out of the brick, turned downwards, and then turned and flared out into a bell like shape. Above it was a hastily attached sign that pointed out the obvious.

THIS Intercom.

--The Management

“Helpful,” Rosa said slight annoyed. “How does it work?”

“You put your mouth near the open receptacle and shout what you need. Seriously...some people…”

We looked around in confusion, not recognizing the voice.

“Here!...HereHereHERE*HEREHERE!” *and I realized, that the sound of a voice was coming from the copper tube that opened here.

The Blade leaned forward and asked in a gravelly voice, “How did you know we were here?”

“I can see you on the crystal monitor. Nice outfit. What did you want?”

“We need to talk to someone…more in charge,” The Blade said annoyed.

“I’m as high as you get with the snow. The local management is off in Krona Peak on a retreat. And I’m stuck here. Alone. Again!” the voice grumbled.

Rosa sighed, stepped up to the tube, “We need tagget oil and—”

“Well…you’ll have to wait till someone can open the safe and process a sale!” the voice said irritably.

I nudged Rosa aside and leaned down to the copper bell and spoke into it, “What’s your name?”

“I said that I can’t do…oh. Uh. Kalborius. Kalborius Framlin.”

I continued, “Look we’re tired, and we really would like talk and explain our urgent need. And besides, we need a book as well.”

“A book, eh? I do like talking about books.” Kalborius said with a thoughtful tone. “You look familiar too…oh why not. If you rob the place, I can tell the managers ‘told you.’” At that, there was a loud click, and the sounds of bars scraping and sliding behind the door. Sage pushed on the door, and it swung open while the frozen metal hinges made a horrid screeching sound, revealing a foyer.

The foyer was a large square room, paneled in bronzed wood on which hung the house coat of arm. The rails and balusters were gilt in golden, silver and iron shaded metals, forming knot like patterns over many of the surfaces. The metal reflected the everbright lanterns around the hall, and on sconces on the railings of the stairs. The stairs themselves, ringed the walls as they ascended the interior walls leading upwards a great distance. Finally, closed mahogany doors were centered in the walls, going each direction. In the center of the room sat a wooden oak desk, which had an assortment of papers, forms, quills, and stamps, all neatly arranged in front of an empty chair. We all hurried inside, to take in the comparatively warmer air, compared to the outside. Bookshelf came inside last, and shut the door, as we stood there and shook the melting snow off our garments. I was already pulling on a light strand and was wicking away the melting snow, when we realized that we were alone.

“So where is this…Kalborius?” Doxx asked aloud as she looked around squinting critically at the room. I shrugged as I pulled Gossamer out from his hiding space

_--Ah…warmth. I would say about time, but this is worth the wait._

“On the third floor where the library is!” Kalborius’ voice sounded, from a copper funnel mounted above us, attached to a tube that ascended upwards and branched in different directions. “Come on up, its warmer up here.” And I eagerly started up the stairs, the encircled the room, followed by the others, all while Gossamer flew circles in the center of the open space, keeping his elevation just above where we climbed. But while he might have been on the third floor, it was clear that whatever comprised the first floor, the second-floor landing was far above. But as we climbed our host kept talking to us, each time from a different funnel as we kept moving.

“So, anyway what is this about a book?” Kalborius asked.

“Yes, the book is one that we found in a reference—” Doxx started before getting cut off.

“--Very nice. What is the title?”

“Title…” Rosa said, her voice trailing off. She opened her pack and pulled out the journal we found on the Cannith researcher down in the bowels of the machine. She started flipping through the pages muttering, before shaking her head. “We...we don’t know. We know it was written by a gnome from Trolanberg, and that Sylannis d’Cannith had read it—”

“Ah! I know precisely what book that is! ‘Dhakanni Artifice and other Rumors, Undebunked Again!’ by Waldif Pentoalium d’Sivis. Strange how popular it has been over the last year.”

“What makes it popular?” Rosa asked confused.

“I have no clue!” another funnel spoke aloud as we wound our way upwards. “I have never read it myself end to end. But I do remember others commenting how bad a read it was. Especially Syl. She really hated it. So did the other three in their own way.”

“Three?” Adrissa muttered, her eyes furrowed. “Three read it in the last year?”

“No…three *others* did, besides her.” The voice chided the now annoyed teenager.

“Who was the first one?” I asked.

“Ah…tall lanky man with dark hair and green eyes, dressed in leathers. Well-travelled and softly spoken.” Kalborius said thoughtfully. “I’m not even sure why I let him see it come to think off it.”

“Moragon,” Rosa said.

“Yes! That was his name! It sat on the shelf for months, and the Syl looked at it. But the last two pulled it out only weeks ago, one right after the other.”

“Anything notable about them?” The Blade asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“The first one was an elven fellow. Long straight hair, blue eyes. Had the robes of a Karrnathi miltary attache. Old but still spry like all of them are.”

“That sounds like…Lolopethes?” Doxx said confused. The Blade shot the old woman a look their eyes both narrowing in suspicious.

“Did he read anything else?” The Blade asked.

“Hm?” Kalborius said over the copper tubing from yet another funnel. “No. He came in, asked for the book by name, and then left satisfied. No…not satisfied. Amused…Not sure what he found funny. And actually…I don’t remember why I let him see it either.”

“That seems too specific a pickup and read,” The Blade commented. “I have a hard time understanding why he would have had to think about a book, he specifically came to read here. Something here doesn’t make sense.”

“Your mask is probably too tight,” Doxx said mildly.

“It stays on better that way,” The Blade replied, not acknowledging the jibe. “So who came next?”

“A woman, on business from House Medani—” Kalborius started.

“—Raven hair and favoring a blue dress I would guess,” I said.

“Yes! —”

“—Mellisandre—” Doxx said her mouth pursed like it had tasted bitter fruit.

“—But she asked for it in a different way. She asked about what the other chap had read. Now we don’t share our checkout records normally…but I didn’t make any for him. Or her. Or the other guy. And why did I tell her anything?...”

“She asked about ‘what the other chap read?’…just like that?” I pressed.

“Oh no…she knew his name.” Kalborius’ voice said from the next funnel. At that we all stopped on the current landing, halfway between the second and third floor and looked at each other.

“Melisandre does know everyone doesn’t she,” Bookshelf noted.

“This is beyond coincidence,” Sage agreed. “We do not understand what is at play here.”

“But she does,” Doxx said. “She fed us all a line in our letters for a game of her own design.”

“I don’t agree,” I said causing the old woman to glare at me. “I met her, and she helped me out of a bad situation. She seemed genuinely invested in helping Taryn.”

“Could Taryn be in on this?” The Blade asked grimacing. “Or is he caught in this web as well?”

“He seems to be very…focused on the mine for his uncle,” Rosa said. “And even if he was lying, I doubt that Debrika would have been ignorant about it. Or put up with it.”

“I can agree with that,” Doxx said. “She’d lay into him with that maul if she thought he was going down a path she didn’t approve of.”

“She didn’t approve of much as I recall,” Bookshelf commented.

“No, she did not.” Doxx concurred.

“Well, I have the book here with me,” Kalborius continued. “Careful now, you don’t have to damage the doors up here—”

We all looked at each other confused. I then spoke to the copper funnel, “What are you talking about Kalborius? We haven’t gotten to the—”

“WHAT!?! NONONONO G-G-G-GET AWAY FROM ME YOU---URK,” came Kalborious’ panicked voice, followed by a wet slurping sound and what sounded like muffled thump, like something was dropped into a sack.

We ran up the stairs, pulling out weapons; Adrissa and The Blade, on bows, Sage his armblade, Rosa, Bookshelf and I our foci. When we reached the third-floor landing, the first thing we saw was that the lanterns were ripped from their sconce that once flanked the door. The door itself, was solid and bound with oak, but it now lay on its side, as if something ripped it off its hinges and flung it against the stacks of shelves within. Gossamer who was already ahead of us to start with, quickly flew inside the room and sent me a first impression that made me clench my teeth together.

--_Oh, this is *not* good._

We darted inside and looked around. It was a long rectangular room, and here we saw more lanterns pulled from sconces and discarded onto the floor. A rug lead down the middle of the room, passing by shelves nearly twice my height holding books, scrolls and other stacks of paper, haphazardly stacked in very unorganized piles. About halfway to the other side of the room, was a more open section where a shattered desk was on the floor. On top of the desk were books and papers, all crushed underfoot of the large creature that stood before us.

It was dark green and covered in slime and boils. It stood as tall as the bookshelves around us on spindly legs that seemed too slight to carry its prodigious bulk which fatty bulk quivered as it turned to face us. Its long arms nearly reached the ground and each webbed hand ended in sharp talons. It’s large yellow cross slit bulbous eyes stared at us for a brief moment before widening, and then narrowing as if vexed. It took a deep breath and opened its huge mouth and bellowed with a deep guttural sound that echoed in the room, while spittle flew from its mouth. And as it did so, it swished its great tongue back and forth. Near the end of its roar, I could see to my horror, down into its gullet and saw the wide eyes of a man, his dark hair and purple robes matted with slime.

“HELP M—” Kalborius screamed from the open mouth of the creature, before it clamped its mouth shut, and began licking its lips and flexing its claws in anticipation.

“That…is a huge frog,” Adrissa said disbelieving her own eyes.

“It’s a frogging problem!” Doxx shouted he ran with Sage to free the man in the belly of the beast.

*Session Notes:*
Well...go ahead and guess what it is that has eaten our friend Kalborius.  So if you thought things were weird and horrific, the players hadn't seen anything yet.  But at this point I must disclose that there is a private joke here about Myrai and Kalborius.

You see, Myrai and Kalborius were adventurers briefly in an abortive "Curse of Strahd" campaign that lasted one session.  Kalborius was my son's charater and he is playing Sage here.  Both were characters with very specific backstories and entrances (Myrai was dropped into a river, and was going to hipped in Barovia.)  But the group as a whole, couldn't get into the gothic horror themes that the dm wanted to portray.  The players started to turn it into absurdist slapstick.  This really annoyed the DM, and he gave up that evening.  I was looking forward to the gothic drama personally, but I so was invested in Myrai as a concept, I just took her, at level one and reused her in the Souls of Legend campaign.

Much later, Myrai and Kalborius appeared in a homebrew campaign, in a distorted version of reality in a parallel Sigil, where my son and I were playing lizardfolk characters.  The party we were part entered a bar, who were filled with characters from prior adventures, in an enternal champion moment.  All of that was run by player who plays Bookshelf in this adventure.  In that bar, the players of Rosa, Doxx, and The Blade met characters of our past adventures in an endearing moment.

So good characters are never wasted; they always find a good story.


----------



## Richards

I'm going to guess...green slaad?

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

Richards said:


> I'm going to guess...green slaad?
> 
> Johnathan




Slaad would seem to be the answer, but it isn't any breed (or reskinned stat) of one.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

I'm guessing ... banderhobb


----------



## Nthal

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> I'm guessing ... banderhobb



Ding!   Which doesn't make this a random encounter now does it?


----------



## Nthal

The Worst Wizard​
The creature blinked once and made a low rumbling sound, that only just covered the muffled sounds of Kalborius in its gullet. Its eyes squinted and it pulled its lips into wide toothy grin as it watched Sage and Doxx charge down the center of the shelves. It squatted down low awaiting the charge unconcerned. Doxx, being the faster of the pair had her stick ready and was about to swing when we all heard a sound the sound of something spiting. Doxx turned her head and all I could hear her say, “There’s anoth—”

From between a pair of shelves on the right, a flesh-colored mass the size of a small pig slammed into Doxx, and then retracted back dragging Doxx with it. We all heard a loud grunt and the old woman scream in pain. Sage’s head turned to look down the shelves, and when from the left side another tongue slammed into Sage’s shield. But unlike the first one it simply pulled taut, and then stretched even farther as the Juggernaut continued to lumber down towards his quarry. Sage didn’t even break stride heedless of the of the giant mass of green flesh he now dragged behind him. The creature gurgled in frustration as it tried to regain its footing, tumbling behind the runaway warforged.

“Great, three targets,” The Blade said and loosed an arrow which lodged deeply into a spine of book on the shelf. The elf growled, and notched another arrow and loosed it, and it pierced the extended tongue attached to Sage, causing it to detach from him. The momentum carried it down the same aisle that Doxx disappeared down.

“What the?…nononono AGH!” Doxx shouted followed immediately followed by the sound of a pair of damp wet fleshy creatures slamming into each other. Sage ignited his armblade and swung at his target, easily cutting through its viscera with a sizzling sound. From inside the toad there was a scream of panic. The creature opened its mouth and attempted to rip off Sage’s sword arm with its maw. But Sage turned and it chewed instead on his shield. As it did so, the muffled screams from it stomach became clearer, “Watch it with the flaming sharp object!”

Bookshelf and I looked at each other and shrugged. He with a snap, pointed a cold white beam that struck the toad, and hoarfrost formed over its right shoulder and chest. It turned and glared at the warforged, grimacing. I then pulled on some light strands and cast a pair of strands toward Sage’s opponent. They manifested as bright purple bolts, but it felt different. I could feel the energy flow down the strands faster than before, and the bolts seemed to glow brighter than they had before. They both slammed into the toad thing and its gaze snapped to look at me, its eyes narrowing.

“That’s not good, is it?” I asked Bookshelf.

“Unlikely,” the warforged said.

“What in Dolurrh are banderhobbs doing here?” Rosa said in puzzlement. We both looked at the druid confused as she ran down and stopped at the intersection of shelves where Doxx had been dragged. She looked down between the rows of shelves and yelled, “Where are you Doxx? Where’s the other one?” and she rolled on the floor dodging a tongue that lashed out at her

Adrissa grimaced and bolted down the stacks drawing two short blades as she ran. Then she suddenly ducked, as another tongue shot out at her from her left, not two paces from where The Blade, Bookshelf and I stood. I then heard Doxx’s stick strike and crack bone, and the sound of a banderhobb grunt in pain.

“Wasn’t Doxx on the other side?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.

“I’m going to flank it,” The Blade said, and he darted to the left, trying to reach the end of the line of shelves. Unlike the middle of the room, the sides were dark, based that I couldn’t see any shadows with my eyes. At that point Rosa called out, “Whatever you do, stay away from the shadows!”

“What? Why—What the?” The Blade called out at about the same time Sage said, “It backed up between the shelves and vanished!” The Blade made a grunting sound and followed by the sound of teeth ripping leather and The Blade hissing in pain. Adrissa stood up and continued to run down towards the sounds where Doxx was swinging her stick, and I heard her swords slice into flesh and the banderhobb bellowed in pain.

Bookshelf ran to follow where Adrissa had gone, while I decided to follow The Blade. I rounded the corner and saw it dragging the elf behind it and darting between another pair of shelves, letting arrows fly as he ran. At least one found its mark, based on the grunting I heard.

“Sodding Baator,” I said, not having time to throw more magic at it. I ran and turned the corner and saw that the toad had released the Blade and now watched us with an evil smile. The Blade had been mauled and was now bleeding badly. I ran towards him putting my shield in front of me, expecting a tongue to lash forward. Then I pulled on a light strand and used it to weave a lattice to close the bleeding lacerations on The Blades’ shoulder. Nearby I could hear Bookshelf mutter, and I heard crackling ice, followed by a sound of wood on wet flesh, and the sounds of swords slicing and cutting.

Out of my vision, I heard Sage say, “You will not evade me that easil…what the?…WATCHOUT!”

I heard a creaking followed by a loud thump a short distance away, followed by more creaking. I turned my head to look at the banderhobb and it smiled and waved its hand, wriggling its fingers as it stepped into a shadow and melted away. I furrowed my brow confused, when I heard the creaking and thumping repeat itself and get louder. The sounds of books scattering on the floor, followed by more crashes and booming sounds growing louder. The Blade looked at me and staggered to his feet. He turned his head toward the crashing sound, muttering; “It baited us, and its partner pushed over the shelves! We need to run!”

The Blade grabbed my hand and pulled as we ran towards the center aisle. The crashing of the bookcases grew louder as one shelf hit another as the stacks were collapsing. The Blade pulled me along, his longer legs and faster gait causing me to stumble and trip. We were several paces away from the aisle, when the shelves on our left shuddered and started to collapse. The stack, dumped its contents onto our head as it proceeded to tip, coming down upon us.

“Pike this!” I leapt forward and pulled back on The Blades’ arm, pulling him into an embrace with me. I then cast a strand of light towards the aisle and pulled on it hard snapping it. The air rushed through my hair as I clutched elf and dragged him with me, following the strand to its terminus. From behind me the thundering explosion I left behind, shredded books and scattered papers everywhere. The I watched the stack push over its neighbor, as it collapsed into a pile of splintered wood. The air rushed through my hair as the shelves shattered behind us. But I barely had time to digest this.

We stood there, The Blade’s chest touching my breastplate. But even clad so, I could feel there was a hard object above his breastbone. As we embraced, I felt a surge of energy from it. It wasn’t like the strands that I used. It wasn’t dark or light, but what I felt was something more familiar. It felt like one of those times where I would summon the light from within me, but the energy was inside whatever he wore.

It felt like me.

I looked up at The Blade, his masked face betrayed a momentary flicker of surprise, as I realized he too could feel the same sensation I did. But we had no time to dwell on it, as he aimed his bow towards the far side of the room, and loosed a pair of arrows. Each sank deep into the toad that had only a moment before emerged from the shadows at the end of the shelves. It looked down at the arrows that jutted from its hide with disinterest and then looked at the The Blade and I, shaking its head. It then raised a hand up and extended a finger to its lips and made a wheezing “Shush” sound.

There then was the sound of a loud crack, and Doxx rolled out from the stack, clutching Adrissa. The shelves fell over and as they did so and started to fall upon on the next set. As the last shelf fell, there was only a solitary guttural “Eep!” sound, followed by a loud pop, and squishing noise. On the floor, green and pink ichor flowed into the aisle from the crushed banderhobb within.

The other banderhobb was still wiggling its fingers at us when a shadow emerged from behind it. It turned in confusion as a large brown bear embraced it and started to tear at it with claws and teeth. It returned the favor with its toothy maw, ripping into bear hide with glee. Blood and ichor flew everywhere, as Rosa kept at it, holding her toad in place. The banderhobb then looked around in alarm, as it tried and failed to move towards a shadow and was quickly assaulted by cold light beams from Bookshelf, Doxx’s stick breaking more bones, and finally Adrissa cutting into it, causing it to dissolve into more sticky goo.

Turning, I saw Sage chase after the third one, as it lumbered to the edge of the room. They both ran on top of the collapsed shelves, as both of their bulks, crushed the wood beneath their feet of steel and flesh. Suddenly, it turned to face Sage and bellowed. Out from its mouth in a ball of slime flew out Kalborius, who slammed into the warforged. Sage, off-balance from chasing the banderhobb, caught the man and was bowled over, hitting the floor so hard, the shelves that still stood, shook, and books fell from their shelves. The banderhobb was still smiling and made a motion with its hand and pointed towards a thick paned window. It ran over next to it and crouched down and disappeared.

Quiet filled the room as dust drifted down from the rafters. Ruined shelves and their contents were now scattered across the floor. Many of the books were torn from their bindings, and few seemed to escape the fracas unscathed. Among the wreckage, Sage’s armored form creaked and shuddered as he slowly sat up, cradling the dripping form of Kalborius in his arms.

“MRorr…Is everyone alright?” the bear asked as it shifted back into Rosa.

“Never…better,” Doxx said flopping down casting her arms wide across the length of shattered wood.

“Kalborius?” Sage asked the dazed man in his arms. The wiry man was panting heavily, as he wiped goop from his short shaggy blonde hair. His face was covered in a scaggy scruff of a thin beard, now matted against his cheeks. He patted the ground and found a pair of wire rimmed spectacles that he put on, only to realize that one lens was cracked, and the other missing.

“I’m…fine. Where is it?” the man said as he squinted looking around at the pile of books with difficulty.

“Where is what?” Sage asked.

“My spellbook. It was under my arm, as I was sorting out other texts, when that thing swallowed me,” the man replied.

“I think this is it…based on the slime,” I said as I pulled on a light strand, to lift a slimy text from the floor, unwilling to touch it.

“Oh no! It will be ruined!” Kalborious exclaimed as he approached and saw the soaked book.

“I can probably dry it out,” I said as I started to weave both light and dark strands and squeezed them, pushing the fluid out of the pages as the others talked.

“What did you call these things?” Bookshelf asked Rosa.

“Banderhobbs,” Rosa said with disgust, but she looked around the room nervously. “They are a magical amalgamation of flesh and shadow, and not a real creature of nature.”

Bookshelf thought a moment, “Something that a druid would create, based on you know about them?”

“Here Sage,” I said handing the thin tome to the warforged. “Can you look at this and see if I should do more, while I clean off Kalborious?” I slapped away the hand of the man as he reached for the book. “You are still covered in slime, so don’t touch it till I’m done.” The man nodded and patiently waited, while Sage flipped through the book.

“You really should use a spell crystal, they are far more dura….ble,” The warforged cocked its head as it looked at the book in confusion, and then addressed Kaborious. “This is a cookbook.”

“Yes yes, all magic spells are recipes really,” the man said as he patiently waited for me to finish cleansing him.

Sage shook his head, “No. This is book about cooking food. This page is a recipe for Karnathi sausage bread pudding. Although…why is it covered with diagrams in…wax?”

“It was the only thing handy, and I inscribed the arcane language on top of it. Only a wizard would understand.” Kalborius said dismissively.

“I *am* a wizard,” Sage said evenly as he flipped through more pages in the book. “And these drawings don’t make any sense.”

“What do you mean wax?” Adrissa asked, as she cleaned a cut on her arm with a cloth. She walked over and looked at the book as Sage flipped through the pages. “Wait…crayon? You can write spell books with crayon?”

“Not normally,” Bookshelf said.

“Certainly, you can!” Kalborius said defensively. “I did exactly what the priest said to—”

“You took wizard training…from a priest?” I asked.

“The Silver Flame disciples helped me understand arcana and encouraged me to take notes as I used my spells…to sometime surprising effects.” Kalborius admitted.

Sage shook his head, “That’s backwards. You don’t cast a spell randomly and take notes. You learn the spell and then cast it.” The warforged handed the ‘spell book’ to the man. “I don’t think you are a wizard.”

“I am!” Kalborius said, with a tone that said he was insulted by the entire conversation.

Bookshelf and I looked at each other for a moment, before we said the same thing, “He’s a sorcerer.”

“I am *NOT!*” Kalborius said in a huff.

“Anyway,” Rosa continued, “I have never known a druid to create them. The Children of Winter don’t. I heard about them from Greensingers.”

“What’s a Greensinger?” I asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“They are a sect that lives deep in the Eldeen Reaches, and they spent time with the fey of Seelie and Unseelie courts. But I have only heard of them being used by…” and Rosa’s voice trailed off for a moment as she looked around on edge.

“By…what?” Doxx asked impatiently.

“Well…covens of…hags.” Rosa said finishing her thought.

I gulped. I knew there were many kinds of hags in the multiverse. Each has access to strange magics and powers. They respected no one but other hags. The most famous hag I knew of was Ravel Puzzlewell, who was mazed by the Lady of Pain well before my time in Sigil. But I didn’t have much time to dwell on this as at the uttering of the word, ‘hags’ Kalborious reacted.

His face grew pale, and he started to shiver as he shook his head back and forth saying, “No…no…nononono! Not her. I don’t want to do anything with *her*.”

“Her?” I asked confused. “A…hag?”

Kalborius gulped and nodded. “Y-y-yes her. She lives in the hills nearby. Only the desperate seek her out, but she usually just spurns most seekers. But the stories about her…they say she was here before Karrn the Conquerer, and she turned him away…yet she spoke with Galifar years later. When people do manage to make a deal with her, it never ends well.”

“Does she have a name?” I asked in a low voice.

Kalborious nodded and muttered, “Twisted Mirth.”

The Blade was agitated and grabbed the man by the collar, “So, why would a hag send a banderhobb to a Cannith—OUCH!”

I turned to look at The Blade, and half of his face was now covered in snow and ice. He turned and looked back at the window, and there stood the banderhobb, holding a second ball of snow it its as it looked at The Blade, its eyes narrowed into a glare. It bellowed and then melted into the shadow again disappearing.

We ran to the window. The Blade was the fastest of all of us, and he reached the windows and threw it open to look down at the street, just as another snowball hit him in the face. I stood next to the window and leaned in cautiously and looked below. There standing in the snow beneath a lantern, stood the injured banderhobb. It beckoned with its scrawny arms at us. It didn’t run or move; it just watched the window with interest.

“It wants us to follow it?” I asked confused. “Why would we do that?”

“I’m doing no such thing,” Doxx said, turning back towards Kalborius. “Where’s the book we were looking for?”

Kalborius shook himself to regain his composure, and started to look around the floor, “I had just pulled it from that shelf…under there,” as he pointed to a crushed bookcase. “…when it swallowed me. But I don’t—”

“It has it,” Rosa said pulling herself to look over the window sill and look at the street below. There under the lamp, the banderhobb’s tongue snaked out of its mouth, holding a tome of some sort. It waved it around with its tongue before retracting it and stuffing the tome back into its mouth. “And if I had to make a guess…Twisted Mirth wants to talk to us.”

*Session Notes:*
Kalborius Framlin "Wizard Extraordinaire" is my son's favorite concept character.  A sorcerer, raised by priests, who led him to believe he was a Wizard.  It's just more funny that Sage (also played by my son) is arguing with himself about being a wizard.

Twisted Mirth on the other hand...we'll talk about her soon.   Very Soon.


----------



## Wilpower784

I have heard about this concept character before. So THIS is what he was talking about. Amusing chapter.


----------



## Nthal

March of Many Darks - 5/15/2022​

“You can’t be serious,” Doxx said pointing at the gesticulating banderhobb. “That’s an invitation?”

“I can’t think of a reason to stand there waving a book around,” Rosa said looking at the old woman reproachfully.

“Do we really need this book?” I said already knowing the answer.

“I don’t see how we can avoid it,” Sage responded.

“I agree,” Bookshelf said quietly. “Whatever knowledge is within its pages; it has been reviewed four times. And at least one of them is well informed enough that she wouldn’t have bothered if it were worthless.”

“You think Melisandre is all that?” Doxx said giving the slender warforged a sour look.

“She knew much about each of us,” Bookshelf continued. “She had reason and methods to know, and whatever her motivations, she doesn’t seem to be one to leave important knowledge unchecked and unheeded.”

“If…if…if…you are going to see…see…seek out Twisted Mirth, leave me *out* of it!” Kalborius stammered shaking his head back and forth.

“What about the oil?” Adrissa pointed out.

“That’s right,” I said, and I walked over and knelt by the shivering wreck of Kalborius who looked at me confused. “Do you have any in the stores here?”

“I…well…I think so?” Kalborius said confused at the change in topic. “I don’t keep track of the inventory, but I know it’s used for a lot of different things—”

“—How much?” Rosa interjected, rushing next to me.

“I don’t know…perhaps…well…I guess…”

“How much?!” Rosa stamped her foot in anger.

“Well, I think it is maybe a gold or two per flask—”

“Not the PRICE you idiot!” Rosa grabbed the man by his lapels, still soaked with ooze from the belly of the banderhobb. She shook him her teeth gritted in frustration. “How much do you have!?!?”

“Aaahh,” Kalborius stammered as the halfling continued to shake him. Rosa was then pried away by Sage as the he tried to speak. “Ah…maybe a tun?”

Rosa looked at the everyone quizzically while Adrissa and I shrugged our shoulders.

“That is about 36,000 flasks,” Bookshelf said after a moment calculating the answer.

Rosa smiled, “That is more than enough, assuming we can get enough morning glys we should have enough to cure—”

“—Cure?” Kalborius said warily, eying Rosa.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Doxx shaking her head vigorously and waving her hands wildly trying to keep us quiet. Unfortunately, Adrissa had her back to Doxx and spoke up first, “To cure the plague in Denning before it spreads—”

“Plague!?!” Kalborius’ eyes bulged in shock as Doxx winced and cradled her head in her hands. His eyes then narrowed in realization, “But you need the oil to make…a curative?” He stood up and straightened his ooze-stained robe. “It should be kept here for safe keeping—”

Rosa smiled sweetly and looked at Kalborius. “You wouldn’t happen to have any morning glys here?”

The man frowned. “That blooms in the spring normally, but not here.” he said. “In the swamps near Bog-o-Narn usually. But it doesn’t keep, and there have been several Cannith alchemists that have been trying to discover a meth—.”

“—Well then…we need to make it closer to where the outbreak is,” Rosa continued. “Otherwise, the curative won’t keep either.”

“That…that makes sense. I can see if anyone is willing to transport it, I suppose.” Kalborius said slowly.

“Leave the oil here and we should guard it. Perpetrators could just walk off with—OOF!” The Blade started, before another snowball hit him in the back of the head. He whirled around and there by the window, squatted the banderhobb. It shook the water and ice off one hand, while in the other it clutched another large snowball, which it casually passed between its claws. It’s looked at the The Blade with a toothy grin that opened wider at The Blades seething glare. It then made a low croaking sound and stepped backwards and faded from my view.

“It likes you,” Doxx said bemused.

“If it is foolish enough to lead us to its master,” The Blade said grimacing beneath his cowl. “I suppose we should pay this ‘Twisted Mirth’ a visit.”


What I didn’t realize that he meant ‘right now,’ and not ‘after a good night’s rest in a warm inn.” Although it had little to do with The Blade’s opinion, but it was more the insistence of the banderhobb. It had little concern about our comfort, as it lumbered ahead of us enthusiastically. It noisily crushed the snow beneath its flappy feet, and it occasionally bent over to gather some snow it kicked up and threw a large ball of snow at us when we didn’t keep up.

Well, ‘us’ might be generous. It really just kept throwing them at The Blade, and only when its aim went wild did it pelt anyone else. And it wasn’t like we could really keep up with it as the creature had a maddening habit of disappearing behind a frost covered tree and reappearing farther ahead. Eventually it grew bored with its icy jabs and freezing taunts, and simply waited for us to catch up with it, before leading us onwards through the icy fields in front of the foothills.

Then the clouds broke open, and moonlight covered the snowy landscape, the first time in many weeks. The light was enough to foul my strange sense of perception, and I saw the frozen landscape like how everyone else would. The trees were scattered around us, and the ground was covered in frozen bushes and scrub. The sound of our boots or metal clad feet crunched through the snow as we made our way to a range of hills ahead of us, while behind the lights of Cattbron were nothing more than a dull glow over the horizon.

The hills were a decent distance from the town and my legs were already aching from the march. This wasn’t my idea though.

---

“What do you mean we can’t take the horses?” Doxx said with a look of incredulity on her face.

“There is no way we are going to bring animals anywhere near a hag,” Rosa insisted.

“Aren’t we more at risk of…being eaten?” Doxx exclaimed.

Bookshelf and Sage looked at each other and just shook their metallic heads at what was obvious to them

“Not if the hag really wants to talk to us,” I had said. “If she wanted to just kill us, or use us for stew, we would be dealing with something worse than banderhobbs.”

Rosa nodded, “Most natural creatures stay far away from hags, and magebred horses, while not natural are smarter than—”

“—Us—” Doxx muttered.

Rosa glared at the old woman and kept talking, “—most people.” At which Doxx narrowed her gaze at the halfling. “So best we stable them in town—"

“—and walk,” Adrissa said grimly shaking her head.

-------------

And so, we plodded forward, the hills slowly growing closer. I shivered and tried to rub feeling back into my arms. The cloak I wore seemed to leak my body’s warmth away into the night, causing shivers through my limbs. On horseback this wasn’t as bad, as the steed’s body was like a furnace below you. But now nothing held back the biting cold’s caress. I winced and shut my eyes. I was tired. Beyond tired. Maybe if I stopped…

“You need to keep moving.” My head snapped up and I shook some sense back into my head. The Blade was standing beside me and nudging me along, and he threw his long leather cloak across my shoulders, sharing some of his warmth.

“Th—th—thanks,” I chattered.

“Don’t mention it,” he said quietly. I glanced at his masked face under the cowl. There was some crusty snow still melting from a well tossed ball from our guide. I could barely see his eyes, but I could see them twitching and focusing on different things; the banderhobb, Adrissa, the occasional tree. But after a moment they focused on me again and his spoke in a hushed tone. “What was that earlier?” he asked.

I huffed a moment and barely shook my head. In then reached into my pouch and wrapped the copper wire around my finger, and I brushed my thumb along the edge while I looped a strand around us.

“I assume you wanted privacy,” I barely whispered. His eyes turned to glance at me, and I could feel him nod ever so slightly. “I felt something…like myself.”

“What does that mean?” I heard in my head, as he replied to my missive.

“It felt like that part of me that…makes me an Aasimar. I feel it when I create light or purge poisons or diseases. But there was something different about it.” I paused a moment and watched his face.

He had stopped looking around and his focus on was on me alone when the inevitable question came; “How did it happen?”

“Well, I am guessing it is because of something you are wearing, probably on your chest.”

“Why would you say that?” he asked suspiciously.”

“Because we were chest to chest when I felt it, and I don’t feel it now standing next to you.”

His eyes narrowed thought, processing what I said. “You are…observant.”

“And correct?” gave a small smile as the magical connection continued to keep our words private.

“Yes. It is a…token from my grandmother,” his voice said in my head.

“Can I, see or hold it?” I asked carefully. Something about the way he ‘spoke’ about it was evasive or perhaps just reluctant to share.

He didn’t respond immediately. But I felt his head move and I glanced and saw him nodding. He shouldered his bow and reached within his tunic and pulled something out. He cupped it in his hand as if he was trying to hide it from the world, before placing it in my right hand. I could feel a surge within me as it resonated with me, sending warmth up and down my back. I then cupped it and pulled it close to my face so I could look at it closely.

Wrapped in a network of fine chain, it was a shiny dark grey material that was shaped like a flattened spiral, similar to a snail shell. I turned it over in my hand and I could see nor feel any entrance or defect in its surface. I brushed my gloved thumb over the strange object, and I could feel it respond to my touch. Each brush sending a sensation of power through my hand. I bit my lip a moment as I regarded it, and I lifted the object closer to my face. Squinting at it revealed nothing new, so I decided to try something. I turned my head a little and placed the flattened side of it and pressed it into my cold cheek.

The flare of warmth was a wonderful feeling, but that sensation was all too brief as I could now feel a connection. My vision was distorted as I was torn away from the hillside and raced among the clouds and beneath the stars. I was moving rapidly through the night, and I crossed over land and then a great ocean. I could see that I was rapidly approaching an island. Not a small one, but a huge one that put places like Nelanther to shame. I barely could grasp the size as I felt drawn to a city there, deep in the woods. The stone walls and causeways were old, but it wasn’t abandoned or in decay. I could see and feel points of energy moving around the streets, some faint and some bright. My senses then were pulled towards a large ziggurat in the middle of the city, and I was pulled to its edge.

My awareness stopped suddenly there. I felt pulling, but I couldn’t approach the entrance to the pyramidal structure. I could see in the stone nearby carvings, each ablaze with a bright white light, but the lettering was unfamiliar. I tried to move my perspective and found that I was in the grip of something I could not directly perceive. But I felt it hold and constrain me. As I kept trying to pull away, I found my awareness unable to shift away. Then as I struggled, I saw a light approach from the ziggurat. It was almost blinding as it enveloped me, and I realized it wasn’t one light, but a swarm of them. I could feel them swirl around my mind, and I could hear a cacophony of voices in my head. Each one spoke over the other, but more than that I could feel emotions from each light.

Surprise. Alarm. Concern. Curiosity. Contempt. Fury. Hate.

But most of all, Love. Not for me. Not for a particular specific light. A love not just for lights around me, but for lights in the causeways. Lights across the island. Light across the world. All the lights.

I struggled with the flood of emotion coursing through me, and I could feel not warmth, but heat flare through my body and up my spine. My back arched in pain as I could feel my wings appear in a blinding golden blaze. My mind was assaulted by more and more emotions and thoughts that slipped past me in my struggle to put everything into context. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I grasped the basics on what I felt. Something only described to me once, in tones of sadness and regret because it was something I could never experience.

Or wasn’t supposed to be able to.

Each light was a soul; I knew it. I had pulled enough people away from the veil of death that I knew the contours of them well enough. I could remember being nothing but a soul once in The Fugue as I thought I would meet my god in person. But I remembered that while my soul felt not stronger, but it had a radiant quality compared to others. I thought at the time it was the Strands and their connection to me, but now I realized that it was simply because of who I was; a daughter of a celestial.

But these souls put me into my place, as my soul was a best a pale imitation of their glory. And as I hung there in their judgement I had only one explanation for their source, a legend of their creation as the offspring of not an angel. But from a god.

Elves.

As that revelation crossed my thoughts, I felt a wave of rejection. The journey I had just begun, played through my senses again, but in reverse and in far greater speed. Within a the briefest of moments my vision returned to where I stood, light fading from the shocked face of The Blade, and the others around me. I realized that I somehow was in the air above the snow, and I quickly fell into the snow below me, the icy cold a slap to my body, as much as the slap to my soul a moment ago. I lay there panting in a daze as I could hear echoes around me.

“What in Khyber was that?”

“Is she alright?”

“Those wings were beautiful—”

“—Nevermind that they scorched The Blade.”

“Are you alright? Say something.”

“I’m fine citizen—”

“—Not you! HER.”

“That manifestation was greater than her prior ones.”

“Not now Bookshelf.”

“Myrai?”

I could feel my shoulder being gently shaken, and my eyes focused on Adrissa, who knelt in the snow next to me. Her face was streaming tears, but they weren’t tears of pain, but the tears of someone in throes of exultation. Like a window to the divine had opened and shut before her.

I blinked a moment and turned my head to look at my open hand, where The Blades’ token was. There in bright sigils was an elven word. I snapped my hand closed and started to push myself up, when Doxx and Sage lifted me to my feet.

“What was that all about?” Doxx asked me accusingly. “A blazing light in the middle of the night is only going to attract problems.

“What?” I asked wearily. “Like a banderhobb?”

Doxx’s face went red for a moment, “I know we are expected but still! That light show could probably be seen a league from here!”

I looked at him, and I am sure that my face was a muddle of confusion and disbelief. “What?” I asked.

“Darling,” Rosa said with a bemused smile. “_You_ were a blazing light, greater than…no the_ only_ one we could see.”

“What triggered that?” Sage asked pointedly.

“Is it something repeatable?” Bookshelf quickly followed up with.

I glanced at each member of the group, but I really only wanted to see what was on The Blade’s face. His head had only the barest of movement, but he was clearly shaking his head no; at least to me.

“I…I…can’t explain it. But I don’t think that would happen again,” I pleaded and swallowed, hoping the others would believe me.

“How?” Sage asked, as his towering form moved next tome and looked down at me, his eyes bore into me, searching for a reason to disbelieve me.

I wasn’t frighted of Sage normally, but it was only now that I realized how small I was, compared the juggernaut that easily weighed over four times my own body, armor and all. He could have easily broken me into two with the barest of effort if he chose, and I doubted I could even scratch his metallic skin in defense. I nervously returned his gaze and took a deep breath to steady myself and reiterated, “I don’t think it would happen again. I can’t say why.”

“Perhaps it has something to do with…this?” Doxx said. I inwardly groaned as I turned to look at her, and there hanging from her staff was The Blades’ token. I didn’t even feel her slip it out of my hand as I was brought up to my feet.

“That,” The Blade said evenly, “is not yours.” His bow slipped off his shoulder and he quickly grasped it with his left hand.

“I think I have a—” Doxx started.

“—You do not.” And The Blade held out his right hand. “Return it.”

Doxx and The Blade glared at each other. Doxx’s fingers clenched her staff tightly, her knuckles growing white from strain, while the Blade tightened his own on his own weapon. I think we all took a step back from the two, hoping that it didn’t come to blows.

The wind had just picked up slightly, when I heard a sudden rush through the air. I didn’t even turn to look, as alarmed and fascinated with the tension that was strung between the changeling and the elf. But the sound faded quickly, as a snowball struck The Blade in the side of the face. Doxx lifted a finger as if to point it out, when a second ball struck her in the face as well. Both turned and looked up the hill, where two banderhobbs stood, each one packing another pile of snow into a packed ball.

Then I heard a creaking and squeaking sound, of metal on metal. Then this strange sound came from Bookshelf’s mouth. As Bookshelf stood there, he started to shiver and then finally began to laugh. We all looked at each other for a moment, as the rest of us started to cut loose at the absurdity of what had happened. All except Doxx and The Blade.

They stood there unmoving staring into each other’s eyes, as snow clumps fell from their faces, their brows knit in concentration. Then suddenly both sputtered and joined us in laughter. Doxx proffered her staff with the token on the end, and The Blade took it back gently.

“We have enough problems with those…two?” Doxx said realizing that the banderhobb count had doubled. “We can’t become focused on the wrong thing.”

The Blade nodded in agreement, “No; we cannot be divided. And I assure you of two things; one this is personal. Two, she is never touching this again.”

I looked at The Blade with an expression that probably said, “hey now!” But the others looked at me and the mock damage to my pride and laughed harder.

“Let’s get up the hill, before we are…assaulted again,” Sage giggled in a deep baritone.

“I thought Doxx could, I don’t know, dodge those?” Bookshelf chortled.

“Yes, yes, yes. Very funny, let’s move!” Doxx said.

The Blade tucked the token beneath his jerkin, and he looked at me impassively.

“I’m sorry…about that,” I said as we turned side by side to trudge up the hill. I didn’t bother with the copper ring as any pretense of secrecy was gone. “I didn’t expect that…experience at all.”

“What *did* you experience?” The Blade asked quietly.

“I saw a city of stone, on a large island. Inside were souls. Elven souls.” I said looking at the Blade. I could barely see his eyebrows lift under his mask.

“You..saw Shae Mordai?”

“I guess?” I said uncertain on if it was, and why that was important. “I felt, rather than spoke to whatever I saw. But I wasn’t welcome there. Not at all.”

The Blade nodded looking ahead. Frowning he simply said, “The Undying Court.”

“What is…what is that?” I asked, never having remembered anything like that when Arnara and I spoke at length in the Misty Forest.

“The collection of the ancestors of the Elves,” The Blade said quietly. “The Aereni elves have paid homage to them for 25,000 years.”

“What does that token, have to do with them?” I asked.

The Blade pursed his lips and then sighed. “It was my grandmother's and see was a member of a group that protected the rulers of Aerenal and the Undying Court by extension. But she was betrayed and was…killed. This is all I have left from her.”

There was more there. I could see the pain on The Blades normally stoic face. But I didn’t want to cause more problems than I already had this evening. “Did you…did you see the writing on your grandmother’s token, when I fell?”

“I saw the light, but not the letters,” The elf said looking at me again. “What did it say?”

“It was a symbol that, is a challenge to the reader. To, ‘Have Faith,’” I replied. “Does that make any sense to you?”

The Blade frowned and looked at me, “Not really. I believe in myself, and that is enough." And with that, he pulled away and wrapped is cloak around him, leaving me again in the cold to shiver. I could only sigh and curse myself for handling something so sensitive to another so terribly bad. I couldn’t have predicted what had happened of course, but it made me feel inadequate all the same.

But what *did* happen? It was awe inspiring; nothing I had seen or felt before had the beauty to compare. I knew that from my time with the wood elves in the Misty Forest, that they held themselves aloof from, humans and others. I asked Arnara about it, and she had replied that it was avoiding the pain of losing people close to you, so frequently. It made sense, and I didn’t question it. But now I realized that there was far more to it. That the nature of the elves’ existence was a step removed from the rest of the mortal races. Or rather, two steps, if one could consider I was only a single step removed. That there was a difference of being borne from the blood of your god, as opposed the seed of an angel, or the whims of a god’s creation. I wondered if I could really understand Arnara at all.

I tossed these thoughts back and forth, as we climbed into the hills. We followed a trail the circled around one tall hillock, switching its trail back and forth. Here on the hillside, the scant few trees, were bare of snow and of life. Frozen mosses and lichen adorned branches and stone, but none looked healthy. It was rot frozen in winter for all the eye to see. The scrub was dusted in snow, and it too looked like it had the life choked away, many seasons ago. It was hush, with no sounds beyond the wind that tore through the hills in frozen gusts. The banderhobbs had scampered out of sight, and finally the trail we were following revealed our destination.

The trail opened up into a small gorge, clear of snow, inset into the hillside, with the rocky floor of sloping away toward us at the entry. At the top of the slope stood the two banderhobb, who fidgeted as they stood with their backs to the rock, flanking a crack like opening, where a sickly purple and green light flickered within. Off to the side of the entrance, was a plinth of stone the height of Sage. The plinth had writing carved into it, and as we approached, I could read warning in many languages. Most of them said, “Go Away,” or “Mind your own business.” Some were more advice in nature like, “All deals are final,” and “You better know what you are asking for.” And at least one I could see was crude humor of a sexual nature. Or I hoped so; I didn’t think dwarves could bend that way. But it was at the very top of the rock that gave me a sense of foreboding.

On top of the plinth was the miniature executioner’s raven. It looked at the Blade and hissed at him, confirming my fear; it was a familiar. I swallowed and decided that keeping Gossamer hidden away was the better choice, despite the tongue lashing he would dole out for his ‘imprisonment’ later. It looked at us and stood upright with a look of imperial disdain and began to preen its feathers, unconcerned with us or the cold.

We approached warily. I for one didn’t know how to announce ourselves to the occupant within. But I didn’t need to worry about that as it turned out. From inside the rent in the cave wall, appeared a shadowy form of a hunched figure, casting a long shadow across the floor of the gorge. Then we all heard a high pitched screech that morphed into a chuckle that echoed around the gorge. It was like finger nails scraping on slate as it took on the form of the most malevolent sound of glee that I had ever heard. After serval moments it gave way to a voice that chastised and mocked us.

“Well…finally the puppets of the three have arrived,” it chortled with malice, before increasing the rhythm of its insults, “Took you long enough to get here! Lollygagging through the countryside like your world wasn’t going to end!” It sighed and again chuckled. “Well, nothing more to be done there; all the good help was killed off long ago. So, I guess it’s you, or nothing. And have I the bargain for you…so step inside pawns; I promise not to bite…unless you _want_ me to. Let us see what you can do for old Twisted Mirth, shall we?”

*Session Notes:*
First...this is very late. RL has been challenging recently, but I want to get back to the ride here.

The Blade, like the others, had a complex background story that were revealed in pieces; sometimes by the player, and sometime by the DM.  As Ryan's writings indicate, there is a lot of family in the back of The Blades mind, which made him what he is today.  The interactions that The Blade had with others was perhaps the best parts of the campaign.

But now we will begin to see the stage that players are really...but perhaps not all of it yet.  Twisted Mirth has a tale to tell, and she of course does want something...which should give any sane cutter pause.


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## Wilpower784

A lot of these chapters have been really solid lately. There’s a good streak going here.


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## Nthal

Wilpower784 said:


> A lot of these chapters have been really solid lately. There’s a good streak going here.



Well...lots to describe and lots and lots of dialog.   

However, I would be the first to say, that discussing anything with Twisted Mirth in her home isn't for the squeamish


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## Nthal

Twisted Mirth - 6/2/2022​

We stood several paces away from the mouth of the cave, each looking at the other. The shadow appeared to shrug, and moved back into the cave, the red fire light spilling into the gorge as it casually mocked us, “Come, come, harming you now would be missing the point of inviting you. And I have invited no one else before.”

This did nothing to make us feel at ease, but finally Sage shrugged and stepped forward, and the rest of us fell in line behind the juggernaut. As he crossed the threshold of the cave, one of the banderhobbs belched, causing myself and Rosa to jump at the noise.

“Fen and Garry won’t bother you; they will keep others away. Go boys!” and the pair just bounded out of gorge, back down the path we took. The hag continued, “Ah…you sent ‘The Guardian’ in first. Wise to show your obvious fear; makes things easier that way, ah ‘The Vigilante’, ‘The Spy’, ‘The Balm’, ‘The hunter’, ‘The One with regrets’ , and—” I just stepped into the cave, in time for her to look at me and say ‘The Prodigal One’ and as she did my breath quickened at the sight of our fears, and I realized we were serious trouble.

Hags. There are many kinds of these fey I am told, each commanding strange magics and stranger knowledge, best left forgotten. But they existed as twisted mockeries of the fey, valuing ugliness in place of beauty. But as evil and malicious any one could be, there was always the worst possibility, and Twisted Mirth was one of these.

She stood over a cauldron, poking its contents with a rod coated in layers of dried something, so thick, that the rod’s true shape was lost under it. But she was taller than even Sage, and she looked down at him and the rest of us with coal black eyes. Her hair was shock of frizzle, streaked with blacks and purples. Her skin was the color of purples and blues, deeply lined, and covered with boils and warts, each with wiry hair sticking out of them. Twisted Mirth’s face was contorted into sneering smile, her hook like nose flaring as she looked us over, and she turned her head, there buried in the mess of hair were curled horns. And as I looked at that visage, chills ran up and down my spine and my heart quickened. Everything in my gut was telling me to bolt, while the only thing running through my head was that it was too late.

She was a night hag, the strongest and most dangerous member of that sisterhood. Where I came from, they had travelled the planes until they reached The Gray Wastes and either it corrupted them or they took what they wanted from it. Master manipulators and crafty merchants, selling power, dreams, or souls. The only one I knew of, was one all Sigilites knew, and that was Ravel Puzzlewell, and she was so brazen and powerful that the Lady of Pain mazed her. But that was the Lady of Pain’s home, and locus of power; here we were in Twisted Mirth’s.

She clearly relished our discomfort and chuckled, “Such fears you wear on your sleeves,” she said slowly with a twisted smile, “And eyes empty of anything of real importance. I shall have to teach you all the true matter of things.” Then she sped up her cadence with a glare, “like you have any time all left,” before calming herself down. “Come make yourself…comfortable.”

I finally tore my eyes away and looked around the cavern. Shelves were scattered along the walls, the planks held up by skeletal hands, jutting from the rock. On some were librams, jars, and small pouches, sacks, and boxes. From the ceiling too more skeletal hands held the ends of ropes or perhaps dead vines, each ending in a cage, or a flask, or other strange objects twisting in the air. In one corner was a mirror of brass, tarnished and soiled so no reflection could be seen clearly. On another end, stood a workbench with random cutting tools scattered on the top, and a chest underneath. On another end of the room was a large chair, upholstered in some type of scaly leather and covered in dust. Next to it with a small table and glasses with only a single lens. The hag snapped her fingers, and I then realized, she wasn’t alone.

The first figure was a man, who walked on hands and knees. He was clad in a grimy smock, and his long, dank hair covered his face, so his features were concealed. He scrambled to the other side of the small table and waited on all fours, steeling himself and trembling. Twisted Mirth wasted no time sitting on his back, wiggling her posterior on him as if she was getting comfortable. The man groaned and said nothing,

The second figure was a filthy woman. She was nestled between two shelves, her dirt caked arms grasping her knees. But at the snap of Twisted Mirth’s fingers, she stood. Her hair color was difficult to identify, as it too was caked in mud and grime. From beneath it you could just make out the pointed tips of a half-elf’s ears. Her face was finely structured, with high cheekbones, a narrow nose, a small, dimpled chin, and bloodshot, watery eyes that communicated misery. She moved to a chest in the under the workbench in desperate haste, and opened it, pulling out a tray. She set it on the bench, and then pulled out an assortment of mismatched dirty mugs. She stood there and looked at the mugs and waited.

Twisted Mirth, pulled out from a pouch a small, dried fruit and crushed it into dust that drifted down from her hands. Once she did, there was the sound of bubbling from the mugs, and the woman took the tray and with eyes down, presented the tray to Rosa.

Twisted Mirth smiled and spoke that sweet grandmother like voice, “You must be parched after your long walk here.” She then looked at us all and waved her hand nonchalantly, “The drink is perfectly safe, a fine wine from another age in fact. I have nothing to gain by harming you. In fact, that is the last thing I wish to do.”

Rosa took the mug and stared at the contents and took a quick whiff of its contents. She frowned and shook her head before speaking, “Ah…we appreciate your hospitality…uh aunty Twi—”

“—Grandmother is the appropriate title. So cultured and mannered,” she said smiling, before quickening her cadence to mock us, “unlike the rest of you ready to soil your small clothes.” She then sighed and nodded for Rosa to continue.

Rosa gulped as did I. She knew as much as I did, that hags had a pecking order among themselves, and in that order a grandmother was the top. But she recovered and continued, “Grandmother Twisted Mirth, we only came because of a text your…fine servants recently…borrowed from the Cannith library. So, if we could just—”

Twisted Mirth shook her head and pulled out a whistle made of a bone. It shrieked a hideous sound for a moment before she put it away. From outside a banderhobb flapped inside and stood in front of Rosa. With ease, it quickly spat out the book at Rosa’s feet, covered in slime and bile, before it scampered back out of the cave. I moved to Rosa and knelt down and pulled on a strand to see if I clean away the mess, as Twisted Mirth spoke again.

“And there it is. However,” she said with a vicious smile, “the gnome that wrote it was arrogant, insufferable and plain wrong about so many things. Everyone that has read it recently had to sift through it to find small grains of knowledge. But I…I know the truth behind what he found, and its importance. Otherwise, keep the thing; it has no value to me. You…do however.”

The girl presented the tray to me, and I took a mug, not even glancing at the contents. I was not going to drink it, but I didn’t want to be rude to whatever passed for manners to a hag, when Sage spoke, “What exactly is the price.”

Twisted Mirth looked at the juggernaut with a twinkle in her eye. “For this…nothing. The deal I wish make we discuss a little later. But for now, it amuses me to subvert your opponents and tell things that are hidden, and the stakes at play.

The girl moved to Bookshelf with her tray, and the hag continued. “You found the node in the mountains, and you know clearly it is not a Dhakaani construct. It is as you surmised something far older. It is also only a small part of a great…machine.”

“A machine?” Sage asked, as the girl made her way to the warforged. “What does it do?”

Twisted Mirth smiled, “I know that it draws power from the planes around Eberron, each node a different plane. As to what it does? Well…in part, turn spring to deepest winter, clouds and storms, and walls of thorns obviously.” I stopped cleaning the book and looked at the others as each one took this information in. “It can remake the world with either the greatest precision or the most brutal ways. Its creator invested much of itself into the machine, and it was a great source of pride to them. As to who it was…you would refer them as an overlord of ancient times. One of many now bound in prisons around the world. That one was known as Mat’astalan, the Shaper.”

The girl had moved to Bookshelf and handed him a mug as Rosa spoke again, “An overlord…from the Age of Demons, bound away by the Gatekeepers.”

Twisted Mirth snorted, “Hardly. The Gatekeepers maintain the seals, but it was not they that bound them. Matters not, Mat’astalan was bound, and they took the easiest path to do this. They bound him into his own machine.” Rosa’s eyes grew wide. “And yes…as they turn the machines node back on and empower it; his one chance of freedom approaches.”

“Why would Moragon do this?” Bookshelf asked confused. “I do not see how a druid would side with an overlord.”

“I agree, it doesn’t make sense,” Rosa concurred, “Even for the Children of Winter—”

“Unless he doesn’t know,” Doxx said simply. “Moragon has been manipulated.”

Twisted Mirth giggled, “Right you are. He doesn’t know. He found a machine, thinks he knows how to control it, but he doesn’t realize the true risk. It is written nowhere but…here,” Twisted Mirth tapped her temple with a dirty talon like finger.

“And how do you know?” Bookshelf asked.

The girl moved to Doxx, who without a though took a mug, “Because my silly warforged, I was there when he built it, used it, and watched them become bound into its coils.” I looked at her and wondered, how long ago this was. I had to remind myself that she was an immortal, and immortal motivations were far far different than our own. Which made me wonder what was driving her here. “Shame too; Mat never got to use it at full strength. That would have annoyed the other overlords, and they did try to get along…most of the time.”

“So, who’s manipulating Moragon?” The Blade pressed, after being offered a mug from the girl. He took it, and with a quick motion, placed it back on the workbench.

Twisted Mirth’s face turned from amusement to one black with rage. She gnashed her teeth and said between gritted teeth, “I…I made a bargain under duress. And one point is that I cannot divulge who they are, nor confirm who they aren’t. But it is one of Mat’s loyal servants, one of the members of the Lords of Dust, and Mat’astalan’s speaker. And they have been manipulating many people, as is their opposition.”

“Why all the subterfuge then?” I asked. “If it was a matter of turning on the machine, that should have been possible a long time ago. Shouldn’t it?”

Twisted Mirth shook her head, “It isn’t enough to just turn it on. The right people at the right time are required, to allow the seal binding Mat’astalan to crack. So, the interested parties have been searching the world for parts of the Prophecy to ensure those right things happen…or not happen as the case may be.

“Prophecy?” I asked looking at the others, and it was Rosa that was rubbing her eyes, trying to relieve a headache.

“The Draconic Prophecy,” she said in a tired voice. “It is a living prophecy, written in the bones of Eberron in far away places. Its…huge. So huge that no one person knows it all, and it keeps—”

The girl moved to Adrissa with the final mug, and tripped, causing the mug to spill on the floor, and the girl to fall flat on her face. She quickly sat up and looked at the hag in utter horror, both of her hands covering her mouth.

“Snave…” Twisted Mirth said her head shaking in disappointment, yet a cruel gleam was visible in her eyes. From outside, the executioner raven, flew in and alighted on a shelf, along a row of glass jars. It then quickly dipped its beak into one and pulled out what appeared to be a twitching slug. But I then realized it was something else entirely, a tongue.

The raven hopped over to another open flask and then dropped the quivering tongue within. As I heard the sound of a plop into liquid, the girl reacted. She lay on the floor and thrashed, kicking and beating the floor with her hands. Veins stood out in her arms and neck as her body contorted. But the one thing she did not do, was make a sound. Whatever pain she felt was done in utter silence.

Everyone had something on their faces at the sight of this, disgust, horror, sympathy fear. Only the warforged gave no clear expression on their faces, but I could hear Sage tighten his grip on his shield. Bookshelf was however a mystery, saying nothing and doing nothing. But I couldn’t just let it happen, and so I turned to face Twisted Mirth and smiled, “Please; I’m not sure what she has done to warrant this, but it is…” my mind raced to find a polite way to save the girl from the silent pain she was enduring. “…distracting us from you telling us things you want us to know.”

The hag grinned, “How nice to think of *me* at time like this. And here I thought you might care for her. Or him,” as she pointed to her living stool, who’s face was contorted in pain from holding up the hag on his back. She nodded to the raven, and it picked up the tongue and dropped it back in the jar it was found in, which caused the girl to stop contorting and twisting on the ground. She instead lay on her back, her eyes full of as she looked at me with sorrowful expression. “Each of them, not just broke a deal, but tried to cheat me. So, thirteen years and a day a servant to me is the penalty. And she’s so close to the end as well. But please…continue Rosa.”

Rosa shuddered and tore her gaze away from the woman lying on the floor, panting in silence, “It changes over time, as certain circumstances are met. Its complicated and the only three groups of beings can really understand its vast permutations I am told. The Aerenal elves, the Lords of Dust, and dragons.”

“All true,” Twisted Mirth giggled. “But here we are, near the very end of this particular one. It is only now that it is almost possible to break the overlord free, and only if certain things are accomplished. This is the end game for Mat’astalan’s freedom, or continued imprisonment. And you. All of you, are pawns in this.

“I can’t see how it could be us though,” Doxx said frowning. “At the risk of being rude, I would say you have a vested interest in the outcome.”

Twisted Mirth leaned back and howled in laughter, a cold cruel screech that you could feel scraping along your bones. She settled down, and stifled her own laughter and seem to quote something from memory:

"’A gathering of interests seven. Two new men; one a guard forgotten, another a flesh peddler. A sharp one of the giant's folly hiding in the darkness. Two children of the Traveler; one serves a king, the other honors the dead of the marked house of health. Finally, two children of loss, one near and one far.’

Twisted Mirth looked at Doxx smiling, “Certainly sounds like you. But are correct, I have a vested interest here. Because what I want is something so pure and simple that even you,” and she pointed at Doxx who glowered in response, “Could understand it. Revenge and humiliation for the one who dared to hold a bargain over my head. So, I want you to succeed and keep the overlord in his prison.”

I was confused at first. A fiend that didn’t want a ruler of fiends to be free? But the more I thought about it, Twisted Mirth wasn’t beholden to this overlord. And if the politics of the Lords of Dust was anything like the Abyss, that short term deals, betrayal and self-interest were the norm.

“So, we’re your pawns then.” I stated evenly.

“Almost,” the hag said slyly. “Your ultimate success or failure is your problem, not mine. I can work with either outcome. But Mat’astalan’s speaker? They can lose. They *must* lose personally. So, while that could result in Mat’astalan being freed, it is more likely they will not.” The night hag gave a crooked smile, “So you might say I have a vested interest in your success.”

“So, what is the deal you want to make?” I asked.

“So, I wish to give you two things. The first thing is knowledge on how to operate the machine. Because as far I as am aware, only I and Mat’s speaker know how to operate it.”

“That will not help us much,” Bookshelf said. “We would need a key. And that druid, Tracia smashed the only one we knew of. We had hoped the book would have some information about it.”

“Ah…the book knew of two keys; the lesser and the greater,” Twisted Mirth said knowingly. “And sadly, Moragon has the only greater key that remains.” I heard several others give a heavy sigh, but I didn’t. And I was right in my suspicious as the hag continued, “But that stupid insipid gnome knew nothing about the _master_ key.”

“So what?” Doxx retorted. “Unless you have it what good does knowing—” and Doxx looked at the hag, whose smile grew wider as he spoke.

“You have it,” The Blade said.

“Most of it,” Twisted Mirth corrected. “And I know exactly where the two pieces are to complete it. I will finish it and give it to you to use…as you will.”

“And what do you want exactly?” I asked.

The hag cackled “Simply you find the Speaker and remove them from the board. Nothing more, and it as close to an even exchange that you will ever get from another auntie.”

“You will set your two slaves free,” Adrissa said quietly. She had been silent throughout the discussion.

Twisted Mirth looked at the girl with an expression between surprise and amusement. “How adorable; trying to bargain…” the hag rubbed her chin and after a moment shrugged. “Why not? You may have them.”

The man serving as Twisted Mirth’s seat, twisted his head to look at Adrissa with tears in his eyes, as he continued to struggle to hold Twisted Mirth’s bulk. The woman however, propped herself and looked at Adrissa with shock, shaking her head in what I guessed was disbelief.

“So…how do we do this?” Doxx asked, “Spit? Blood oaths?”

Twisted Mirth stood up shaking her head. “Such perverted bargains come later,” to which Doxx shuddered for a moment at an unbidden thought. “For me to make such a bargain, I need you complete a task for me. Or rather two tasks.”

*Session Notes:*
Twisted Mirth is not a nice hag.  At all.  And yes there is/was a lot of exposition here, but it leads to excitement I swear.


----------



## Nthal

More than we bargained for  - 7/2/2022​

“We must be out of our minds,” Rosa muttered trudging through the snow.

I nodded, “I agree. And we technically haven’t made a bargain or contract or anything!”

“Get two precious gems from guarded locations,” The Blade growled. “If it weren’t from a hag, it would almost read like a post bill in Sharn.”

Doxx shrugged, “That at least would make sense,” the old woman said rubbing her thin arms with her hands as she pinched the staff between her neck and shoulders. Then she pointed ahead of us, “But following that usually isn’t part of the deal.” Ahead of Adrissa who was leading our march, flew the grey winged executioner raven.

“They aren’t far at all!” Twisted Mirth had said. “Just follow my pet here, and he’ll show you the way.”

“True,” Sage said. “It’s probably just a familiar so she can keep eyes on us.”

“Think she knows a way to bypass the limit on distance?” Bookshelf asked, peering at the raven with curiosity.

“With hags, anything is possible,” I said. “They all have, strange access to powers no one else can duplicate. Its why people gamble and try to get a deal from them; all because they do impossible things. But it never seems to end well…or not that I have heard anyway. But this is still strange.”

“Because she *didn’t *make a bargain with us,” Rosa nodded in agreement. She then furrowed her brow and turned to look at me. “Do…you have experience in these kinds of contracts, Myrai?”

I winced and after a moment spoke slowly, “I did a contract once, and only once. But it was with a Baatori—uh what you would call a devil. It was long, complex and I thought I was very canny when I signed it.” Sighing I looked down and fought back the tears and memories. “I was very wrong.”

Rosa kept looking at me, “And things ended badly?”

I nodded, “I…I was peeled like a cony…Sorry that probably doesn’t make sense to you. Basically, I was being cheated before I even arrived.” I said remembering the malebranche’s toothy, malevolent grin as it pushed the contract towards me in the _Tenth Pit_. “I made a bargain to save my…my lover.”

Rosa pressed, “And they didn’t honor the bargain?”

“No.” I said tearing up a bit. “They honored it. To the letter. They let him go and didn’t kill him. But since he had a contract with them to die…they honored that too, and they let him bleed to death as I watched, helplessly. Then they fulfilled a hundred and thirty-three contracts, each one taking a turn with me and…”

Rosa blanched and stopped and looked at me in concern, “They used you…how?” she took my hand and turned me to look at her standing below me.

I stopped in the snow and continued. “It was different for each fiend, but it all involved…pain.” I could still remember the ache in my arms as I hung there in chains for the fiend’s amusement. “I nearly gave up my sanity along with skin and blood. But the one thing they wouldn’t let happen is let me die. Much like the two in Twisted Mirth’s cave. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to end it all but found themselves unable to do it.”

“This isn’t a bounty,” Doxx said, as the group gathered around me. “This is the makings of a horror story, that teens tell each other to make themselves sound brave. We should find another way and leave this hag out of it.”

“We need the Master Key,” Sage said. “Without it, we cannot turn this eldritch machine off.”

“Nor do we know how to operate it,” Bookshelf said. “And Twisted Mirth does.”

“But Morrigon has to have a key on him!” Adrissa pointed out. “We should just take his!”

Rosa sighed, “The other one we saw, was fragile; we can’t risk him breaking it.”

“Look this whole thing seems strange; especially since we didn’t make a bargain,” I said. “I don’t know how hags make one, but we’d all have to agree and do…something.”

“She’ll have you sign a paper with your blood mixed with hers,” a rough sandy voice said to our surprise. We looked around startled and confused. Twisting my head, I saw that the executioner raven, had alighted on a small boulder and was pecking at it with its jet-black beak. It then looked at me and the others in turn and opened its beak and spoke, “That’s how she likes to seal her deals.”

Doxx leaned over to Sage muttering, “It can talk…”

Sage looked at the old woman and sighed, “And it probably heard you,”

The raven blinked and opened its mouth again and it started to huff the air rapidly, “Oh she’s a smart one…or is it a he? Can’t always tell with changelings.”

I sighed and crossed my arms as I glared at it, “A familiar indeed. You have a name?”

The raven cocked its head, “Oh the lily is trying to be polite! Pike that berk. I don’t give a sod about you, your adams or even that swagger Mirth.”

I clenched my rod in my hand as tightly and clenched my teeth. “I should styx you, you halfheaded, unhende—” I raised my rod and started to pull on a strand. Bookshelf grabbed my arms, pinning them to my side. I started to twist in a poor attempt to escape his grasp. The raven started huffing again, and I realized what it meant.

It was laughing at me.

“Go ahead and earn a page,” it hissed at me as I struggled against Bookshelf. “Running a ful black one against poor me is climbing the spire.”

“So, we didn’t enter a bargain,” Sage mused. “Why?”

“A reasonable question, tinman.” The raven said. “No telling what’s going on in her bone-box. And to answer your foamed up lily’s question, my name is Snave.”

I stopped struggling as I narrowed my eyes looking at the raven, and Bookshelf released me. “How did you get here, because you sound like a cager.”

Doxx leaned over to Sage, “Its common she’s speaking right? I can barely follow it.”

“Trading of insults in a type of slang,” Sage observed. “Probably from where she grew up, although not sure about the raven—”

“—It’s *Snave*, you gearheaded lemon!”

“Snave.” The Juggernaut grumbled and glared at the bird for a moment, before continuing. “Do you know anything about where we are going?”

Snave cocked its head and looked at Sage, “To a hole in the ground, wider and deeper than that greenskirt lily’s—”

My blood boiled as Snave spoke and I cut off the nasty bird, “--Why you!—” I flexed and threw a dark strand around the bird and pulled. I could feel the dark miasma start to form and then suddenly, the strand flexed and whipped back at me. I could feel pain around my head, and I fell to my knees, hunched over. I gasped and gripped my head in pain. As I stared at the snow, I saw blood drip on the white surface, each droplet giving off faint steam. Growling, I pulled myself up to a kneeling position and wiped the blood from my nose.

The raven’s huffing now had tone and a deep grating guffawing came from its throat after a moment of me fuming, and it looked at me shaking its head. “Oh, that’s rich! You run a black one and try to deliver me the mail? Sodding mephit, serves you right! Get this through your thick wormy, bone-box; Mirth doesn’t give a sod about me, but she isn’t going to let you fail on the account me getting boxed. So, use that brainbox for once and pike off!”

The bird then looked at the juggernaut again, “And before I was so rudely interrupted by the greenskirt, its in a deep hole. But that hole is on the edge of Khyber.” At that last word, the group became hushed and everyone but me was looking at each other with ashen faces.

Calming down a little, I looked at the others and saw the concern, fear and doubt cross many of their faces. Even the warforged with their stiff countenances shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the word. “What’s Khyber?” I asked the others. Everyone looked at each other but no one seemed willing to answer the question. “What is it…why are you afraid?”

“Khyber is the bowls of the earth below us.” Rosa said grimly. “Many foul things are buried and sealed there, long forgotten by most.”

“Like…like…the vegethings,” Adrissa said in a quavering voice. I could see her eyes wide and for the first time in a long while, the grim mask of determination fell away for a moment, and there once again was the young girl from the ranch. I was still on my knees as a reached out and touched her shoulder. She turned to look at me and took a deep breath and seemed to recover as Rosa continued to speak.

“No. Those were creatures from the Gloaming where decay is strong. But Khyber is where evil things were imprisoned. Some long ago, like the overlords. And then later …the Daelkyr.”

“Daelkyr…is that a fiend of some type?” I asked. The word was unfamiliar to me, but we had been talking about fiends, hags and other foul beings beforehand, but Rosa seemed to dread these creatures more.

“I…I…don’t know what they are. But the gatekeepers sealed them below. Nightmarish aberrations that are mockery of nature. But while the Daelkyr are sealed below, their servants *aren’t.* They infrequently come up from the depths.”

“I seem to recall that some theorized that they caused the fall of the Dhakaani Empire,” Bookshelf said quietly.

“I…had never heard that,” Rosa said. “But I could believe it.”

Snave started his mocking laughter again, “Afraid of the creatures below? You should be afraid. Afraid of the dark. Afraid of the horrors—”

“—You are a terrible motivator,” Doxx said.

“And fear doesn’t come into it,” said The Blade. “So…what is it? ‘Pike it and sodding lead.’” The elf and looked at me for approval

I looked at The Blade a moment, smiled and shook my head in disbelief in what I just heard. “Close enough, cutter. Close enough.”

We rested the night under a dome of magic. I yay there warm and cozy, with Adrissa close by. And while the nightmares were still there, they didn’t intrude into my waking self, beyond a pounding heart and quickened breath. The dreams left behind the tendrils of fear upon me, but it seemed far from the worry of the day.

Khyber.

It was near mid-day when we came to the entrance to the realm below. I was expecting a cave; like the ones in the High Moors, or the sea caves of Nelanther or the grottos beneath pirate town of Blackwater reef. Something with columns of stone and water dripping here and there, and narrow passages that twist around all alike, far from the light of the sun.

The only thing that matched that description was the lack of sunlight. Before us was a tunnel, where perhaps three could walk side by side, and perhaps several more with difficultly as the sides of the tunnel arched upwards. The tunnel, twisted down into the depths like a spiral. The walls were somewhat smooth but with faint weathering of water and wind, causing small cracks, and small piles of pebbles on the on the floor of the tunnel as it cut down into the rock below. But what stood out to me, was that the tunnel was perfectly round and there were no columns or pillars or branching passages as far as we could see. And then, there also was a low sound that hung in the air, a low ragged hum you could more feel than hear. Finally, there was a constant wave of stifling air coming from the depths. It melted the snow on the edges and formed rivulets of water that dripped down into the tunnel. They gathered into a small stream, which ran along the floor of the tunnel, and headed downwards.

We stood there looking at the passage heading down unwilling to take that first step. Finally, it was Sage that spoke first saying, “Staring at the darkness, doesn’t make it more inviting.”

Bookshelf nodded, and pulled out his driftglobe, and set it to a point just behind him. “Well, we won’t be blind.”

Sage nodded, and turned to look at the Blade, Adrissa and I, and asked, “Can you see anything?”

The three of us, moved to the threshold and looked down. From my perspective, I saw nothing remarkable. The tunnel was odd, but it just descended deeper, and because of the curve, we couldn’t see the end at all as it twisted out of sight.

“There isn’t anything to see; it turns and that cuts off my view,” The Blade said.

“Pretty much that,” Adrissa agreed.

“No nooks, no side passages,” I said and looked at the others. “It’s not natural, it must have been carved. But even in Krona Peak, the Mror’s passages were arches or squared off tunnels. Not round like this. They also had shoring or pillars supporting some of the larger ones. But there isn’t any shoring or any bracing at all.”

“Well…let’s send the raven in and let him scout it out,” Doxx said not even turning to look at the bird and kept her eyes looking downwards.

Snave was perched on a dead branch of a tree, preening its wings. The raven stopped and looked at the old woman and gave off that gritty chuckle and flared out its wings. It then said mockingly, “Are you barmy? I’m saying here.”

Doxx turned and stomped over to the bird and pointed her staff at it. “You’re supposed to lead us to the gem. So do it.”

“Nope.” Snave said. “Just to here. I am going to wait until you come out. If you come out.”

“Coward,” Doxx spat.

“Go hug a razorvine!” the bird retorted.

“Turd brain,”

“Leatherhead!”

Doxx turned to look at me confused.

I just nodded, “Means you’re an idiot.”

Doxx whirled around to look at Snave, “Just get down there!”

The bird yawned and then took to the air, and then dove for the entrance. Doxx gave herself a self-congratulating smile. But it fell quickly, as the raven circled the tunnel entrance, and then returned to the branch and cackled that same gritty laugh and said with a venomous tone, “Such a cony. Easy to bob and peel.”

Doxx looked at me and I told him, “He fooled you. Face it he isn’t going.”

“See! your greenskirt gets it!” Snave sniped.

“What does that even mean?” Bookshelf asked.

I glared at Snave and said between gritted teeth, “A jinxskirt is a streetwalker. A greenskirt is a cheap one.”

“Oh.” Bookshelf said and was about to ask another question, before he thought better of it and stayed silent.

“Anyway, If we need a scout, I’ll get him,” and I reached with my mind and pulled the strand, and out popped my familiar.

_--What the?!? Wow is it *COLD* out here and…what the…what is that smell?

Sorry Gos, but I need you to…smell?”

--What? You can’t smell that? Its overpowering. Like fish or something. Its coming from…yep…that tunnel over…wait…isn’t the raven that we killed earlier.

Yeah. Can’t kill it now though.

--Really why?

A hag is protecting it until we get some gems._

“Oh wow; a little flying slave,” the raven said with a sneer. “Guess you don’t need me.”

“Stitch your lips,” I said to Snave and for some reason it didn’t bother to retort.

_--I don’t like the bird.

You’re in good company. Can you fly ahead of us?

--Sure thing…but that smell is awful. Don’t know what it is._

Gossamer yawned and stretched, and then dropped down and ran into the tunnel.

Adrissa sighed, “I really do like Gossamer.”

I nodded, “He’ll let us know what’s ahead, but he did say there is a weird fish like smell coming from below.”

Rosa frowned, “If he can smell it and we can’t…its probably an animal of some sort. Or at least something living.”

“Wonderful,” The Blade muttered. Let’s get this over with.”




I had placed a light on Sage’s shield and Bookshelf’s drift globe hovered over us as we descended. The melted snow ran down into the depths as a thin shallow river, the trickle echoing off the walls. The curve of the tunnel was constant along with the slow measured descent. As far as I could see, there was no obstruction, and little variation. And Gossamer had little more to add.

_--You know I could do this faster if you would just keep up

I don’t know what we are going to find down here, and I rather you stay close enough to still communicate.

--Well, I don’t know how far ahead or below you I am, but this seems to go one for…wait. A room! Can’t see it all from the entryway, but there is a pit in the middle of the room. Perfectly round though. These curves give me the chills.

Don’t go in if you can’t see the far end, wait for us._

“There’s a room with a pit ahead.” I said in a hushed whisper to the others.

“Anything within?” Sage asked in a low voice staring straight ahead, never turning to face me.

“Not from the entrance way; he can see in the dark but that not far.”

“We should be prepared for anything,” Rosa said.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Doxx hissed.

“I wish I knew,” Rosa said.

We moved forward, as quietly as we could. This was a challenge for the juggernaut, Sage, but we had little choice. Eventually I could see low on the ground, Gossamer who peered ahead of us. One of his ears turned our way, but he like Sage did not turn his head, focusing ahead.

_--I can just see the entrance from here. Nothing is by the entrance that I can see. But the smell is worse. Not fish though. Something sharp and almost rotten and very strong._

I frowned and inhaled sharply with my nose and there it was. Just on the edge, a faint whiff of something acrid and spoiled.

“I can smell it,” I said aloud. “But Goss says that is very strong. We’re getting closer to…something.”

Sage nodded, and led with his shield in from of him, shining the light ahead. Directly behind him The Blade and Adrissa stood, both with bows ready, and then Rosa, Bookshelf each with a staff ready and then finally Doxx wither her staff and myself with shield in one hand and my rod in the other.

_Goss watch our rear for now.

--Oh please? Even though you haven’t bathed in days, you all smell much better than this. I want to spit up a hairball…yeach._

Goss trotted behind us, and crept back the way we came, as we pressed forward and entered the room.

The chamber was shaped like an oval, with us on one end of the longer axis. The walls sloped at an angle backwards away from the pit, leading to a ledge that encircled the room. But the ledge was empty of anyone or anything from what I could see. In the middle of the room was a hole, perfectly round, with a smoothed curving lip on the edge, and the thin river of water from the surface dripping down into the depths. There was no light, coming from anywhere, and beyond the clinks and clanks of our gear and footsteps, they only sound was the hum that really was more felt than heard. Finally, I noticed that directly across from our group, was another round passageway, which I suspected descended deeper but also appeared to be empty.

“I don’t see anything ahead,” I whispered.

Sage simply nodded and stepped into the room. The Blade and Adrissa spread out flanking the juggernaut, and behind him each turning and looking at the ledge and the passage way ahead. The rest of us stepped inside, looking around nervously.

“Nothing here,” The Blade said but he didn’t lower his bow. He and Adrissa turned, continuing to look at the ledge which encircled the entire room. But there was nothing there.

“Something is near though,” Rosa said covering her nose. Adrissa nose wrinkled in disgust and Doxx, took a couple of wads of cloth and stuck it up her nostrils.

“I smell nothing,” The Blade said.

“Nor I,” Bookshelf replied, and Sage nodded, still focused on the far entryway.

“Strange,” I said. Sage started to make there way around the left side of the pit followed by The Blade. I now led with my own shield and stepped ahead of Adrissa, my guard up.

“Should you be doing this?” Adrissa hissed.

“No,” I said still on edge. I could now see the passage ahead, and as I surmised it curved down into the darkness. I then moved a little closer to the edge of the pit. The edge was a smooth, forming a wide shallow funnel shape, and I was nervous getting too close without something to grasp. It prevented me from getting close enough to look downwards. Sighing in frustration, “I can’t see much down the passageway because of the slope, and I can’t see down the pit for the same reason.

“Have your cat-thing look at it from above,” Doxx said.

I nodded. It was a good idea, as he could fly and not risk a fall.

_Goss, come here, and look down the pit and see what you see.

--Alright…_ The tressym flew low into the room and banked around the pit’s edge looking down while circling and rising slowly into the air of the chamber.

_--I can see another room and another pit descending. But something strange. The air in the pit smells…cleaner.

I don’t get what you mean.

--There is a draft pushing up from the pit. Warm air makes it easy to fly. But the air coming up doesn’t have that smell…so where is it coming from…oh pike me…WATCH OUT!_

My heart started to pound, and I felt as slow as dripping honey as I tore my eyes away from the pit and looked at Gossamer. The tressym was wide eyed and was glancing at the ledgeway, as he dove heading back towards the tunnel, his wings pulled in close. But I very quickly saw what had scared Goss.

The shapes of figures were rising on the ledge, like they had been lying down when we entered. They rose in silence that seemed to be two quite different kind of creatures. The first kind were small and grey skinned, reminding me of a goblin. Each were kneeling, and I saw that unlike goblin, they each had four arms and their hands were full, wielding variety of weapons and a shield. Each had two slabbering mouths one over the other dripping drool. All of them crouched behind their shields and levelled crossbows at different members of our group.

If the four-armed goblins weren’t disturbing enough, the creatures that accompanied them were worse. Their skin was a mottled mess of sickly purples and green. From their bodies, small tentacles twitched in the air. Their long arms ended in hands with talons, and from their shoulders sprouted two long tentacles coiled, ready to strike. They glared down at us with empty eye sockets, and their mouths opened wide, exposing sharp teeth. A sinewy tongue longer than my forearm, tasted the air and licked their lips in anticipation.

I turned my head and realized that the creatures surrounded us. I drew in deep breath and watched as a half dozen of the tall ones leapt off the ledges towards us, while the small ones each launched quarrels into our midst.

 “Ambush!” I yelled.

-- Session Notes

Very late; apologies, but real life concerns are real life concerns.  Snave turned into a party favorite real quickly...wait no.  That's inaccurate.  They hated his guts.  This was also the first time that any of the players had met the creatures of Khyber in Eberron as opposed to say the Drow in the Forgotten Realms.  So the revealing of Dolgrims and Dolgaunts was a special moment, before all hell broke loose.


----------



## Richards

Well, Snave might not be a party favorite but I can't help but love him.

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

Richards said:


> Well, Snave might not be a party favorite but I can't help but love him.
> 
> Johnathan




I will admit; he's toned down a bit.  Even though half of the words are in the Cant, there was far more off color jabs and jibes.  I had to balance it here a bit.

But it was the laugh they REALLY destested.   They all remember it all too well.


----------



## Nthal

The Eyes Have It -07/27/2022​

With the sound of metallic snaps, bolts were flying everywhere. One bounced off of my shield with a loud clink. As for the other bolts it appeared that the diminutive creatures were terrible shots as only one other found its mar.. As I raised my shield to better protect myself, more bounced off of the metal. And the one bolt simply bounced off of Sage’s armored form, as he readied their arm blade. With a burst of green flame, Sage’s weapon lit up the chamber. He charged at one of the tall thin creatures and the smell of burning flesh flooded the chamber.

The creature made no outbursts of any kind, no yelling, no screaming. Just a hiss from its gaping maw as its long sinewy tongue thrashed about. It started to flail against the warforged, when another one attacked me. It was fast, and despite the empty eye sockets, it was clear it could see just fine. It hit my shield with its palm, causing it to resonate with the strike. I was distracted, as I tried to maneuver my shield, so it was between myself and it. However, I didn’t see that creature had spun around, and it then used its momentum to kick away my shield, and me nearly off balance. As my left arm was flung wide, I was struck by one the long fleshy tentacle across the face. I tasted blood in my mouth, and as I shook my head to regain a semblance of sense, the second one wrapped itself around my waist and thighs. I stumbled a bit, but I was unable to move.

The Blade was somewhat more fortunate. He took aim at one of the crossbow wielding creatures and a single arrow was enough to knock it off it’s feet, the shaft protruding from one of the creature’s maws. A second shaft from his bow had the same result and I thought I saw The Blade grin in satisfaction. But it was short lived, as another one of the thin ones, pounded at me with its hands, each one hit my breastplate, causing me to stagger. But it focused its tentacles on the elf, each one stretching out over my head and wrapping themselves around The Blade’s torso and his bow arm.

Rosa ran around the room, trying to find cover, while Adrissa followed her. The girl interposed herself between Rosa and the four limbed assailants that persued them. Her blades cut deeply into the sides of one of the creatures, spraying purplish pink blood across the chamber wall. Each cut put a wider and wider grin on Adrissa’s face, even as the thin creature was unable to secure a hit against the agile girl. She even batted away the tentacles that stretched by her in an attempt to hit Rosa.

Doxx also had her hands busy, as the old woman faced off against another tentacle assault. She was able to match it, blow for blow, with neither making much in the way of damage to the other. It was a flurry of kicks, punches, slaps and elbows, which were simply a blur as each probed the other’s defensives, looking for an opening. But they were equally matched defensively, and both were too canny to make themselves an easy target.

Bookshelf pointed a finger, and a frosty ray shot out, missing their target, and struck the wall behind them. The warforged sighed, looked around and motioned to us, shouting, “Come to me, I have an idea!” Doxx nodded, and spun her staff, striking the head of her opponent and leaving it dazed. She then planted the end of the staff on the rock and then vaulted over towards Bookshelf and landed upright next to her.

“I would love...to…” I gasped, trying to pull myself away from the creature. Its other tentacle wrapped itself around my neck, and it was all I could do to keep it from choking me, as its fists pounded again on my armor. I thrashed and tried to use my shield as a wedge to force the tentacles off me without success. It leaned towards me with its long whip like tongue, like it was going to flay the flesh from my face when it smiled at me, and I felt excruciating pain around my torso and thighs where it had wrapped me up with its tentacles. I could feel it tearing at my soul, pulling parts of it no matter how much I tried to resist. Nearby The Blade grunted in pain, and at a glance I could see it was doing the same thing to him, robbing him of energy.

I shouted, “Blade! Come to—”

“—THE Blade—” he responded between clenched teeth.

“—sodding Baator! Grab! My! Rod!” and I stretched the rod towards him. He looked it and with his right hand grabbed the end, and together we pulled closer to each other. When his body was close enough, I felt within, and grabbed for a strand and wrapped it around us, while I cast away another one, next to Bookshelf. And for the second time in a day, I snapped it, causing our bodies to vanish from where we stood, leaving behind a blast of thunder, knocking the emaciated figures to the ground.

We reappeared next to Bookshelf, freed from the entanglement of the slimy tentacles. Sage simply pivoted, stomped over and started cutting through our enemies with ease, while Adrissa took down two more crossbow wielding creatures on the ledge, “Only two more left!”

“Where are they?” Bookshelf asked as he pulled a crystal from a pouch, and it began to glow.”

Adrissa fired an arrow behind the group and upwards to the ledge nearly above us. “Directly above us! I can’t get a clear shot.”

“No need,” and Bookshelf tossed from his hand a small, that glowed with a bright orange light. It continued upwards until it was level with the ledge, and then it exploded in a blossom of flame. I instinctively crouched down, as did the others from the conflagration above, but we needn’t have worried. The flames danced across my cheeks, and I felt only the hints of heat.

Above us, there were screams as each of the crossbow wielding creatures each howled from each of their two mouths, each one its own chorus. They each collapsed in a smoldering heap, the odor of burnt hair and seared flesh wafted down from the ledges above us. Bookshelf was looking upwards and nodding, “There that was…easy?” Bookshelf had lowered their gaze and they took a step backwards along with the rest of us.

Of the half dozen of the tall lanky humanoids, one stared at us with empty sockets hissing weakly. Its skin was almost burned away, leaving behind a shell of a creature. Its arms dropped limply to the sides, and it then fell onto its knees before falling forward to the rocky floor, with a heavy, wet sound. However, my eyes were locked on the five behind it, that seemed unharmed and unconcerned.

“Why are they still alive?” Doxx hissed.

“The others just flattened themselves on the floor or the wall,” Sage grumbled.

The five charged at us, their tentacles outstretched, and their hands clenched into fists. As they closed the distance, Adrissa and The Blade, fired their arrows at them each one’s arrow sinking deeply into their torsos but doing nothing to stop their onslaught. I found myself standing next to Doxx and he was next to Sage, each of us trying to interpose our bodies and our shields to protect her and the rest behind us. It was futile thought, as I was pummeled by their fists, while their tentacles just reached around us grasping Rosa, The Blade and Adrissa. I was furiously trying to do anything to protect anyone, when I heard Adrissa behind me scream and with horror I saw the arrows falling out of their wounds, and the holes closing up.

Rosa behind me grunted, and I heard her start to chant. Where before we had felt the dry rush of wind and flame, now suddenly the air turned damp. The hairs on my arms stood on end and as I heard crackling noises above me. Suddenly, an almost blinding bolt struck in the middle of the pack, and the sound of thunder echoed in the chamber. The white spots in my vision began to fade but what I saw brough no comfort. It seemed that the streaks of lightning were just something more for them to dance around, as not a one was struck by the bolt. I could hear the frustration in her voice as she exclaimed, “This isn’t fair! How can they move that….*Augh!*”

Her scream made me cringe in sympathy; the creature’s ability to pull at your very vitality was excruciating. I was beating back more fists against my shield, when I realized that the storm above us was now swirling and fading away as the spell slipped away from Rosa’s control.

Doxx swung her stick overhead, and beaned one on its skull, “We’ll have to focus one down at a time.”

“Breathe Sage,” Bookshelf said simply. Sage nodded and opened his mouth and from it a gout of foul liquid sprayed over the creatures. But they twisted around the bile, as if their spines and bones just weren’t there. Or at least most of them, as one was grazed, giving off an acrid stench as it grazed over its shoulder and back.

“That did not seem to help,” Sage shouted, as he kept swinging his armblade, the green flames sometimes finding their marks, but as much as he cut, the wounds just closed as they took the other’s life energy to heal their wounds.

“We had better do…ugh…something!” The Blade muttered, sounding exhausted.

I felt a tentacle slip past me and wrap around my thigh. The pain started again as I felt like I was feeding it. Not muscle or blood but my soul instead, piece by piece. I glared at the one right in front of me and grit my teeth as I spat, “You want my soul? Allow me to show it to you!”

I pulled on every white strand within me. I had always played with the dark ones or wrapped light and dark together to manipulate the world. But I didn’t want to make simple miasma of darkness, or even to just pull me away to another place I could see as I did before. I yelled, in my own tongue, for the first time in a long while:

*“Na koʻa ʻālohikane e ʻā i ki aʻuha mani!”*

I could feel the wings, erupt again. But it wasn’t a simple warmth or flush I felt up and down my spine. The strands flew from me I as I cast them in a lattice in front of me. The weaving was rough, but it wasn’t what mattered. What did, was the light bursting forth as a conduit for my soul.

“What did she do?” Doxx yelped. “The floor is glowing!”

“I am not sure, but it’s affecting them.” Sage said.

They stood there cringing, and it was clear that their legs were about to buckle from the way they shook and staggered. I could feel the tentacle’s grasp around my starting to quiver and loosen as my light started to overwhelm them. “If we can keep them in the light—”

“Say no more dearie,” Rosa said and suddenly from the rock, sprouted roots and vines. They stood there helplessly as the strong tendrils held them fast. Their skin started to blister and smoke as the light scorched their flesh. “Let’s get out of reach of them!”

Sage and Doxx, pulled on my arms and I stumbled backwards. The monster’s grip was now so weak, that their tendrils’ s strength had melted away, and was weakening further by the moment. It was then easy for all of us to move away from their long grasp. I continued to pour myself into the lattice, and as we watched from across the room, they each collapsed on the rock floor their breathing ragged. One by one, their labored breathing suddenly shuddered a final time, before stopping entirely.

I let go of the lattice, and felt the strands dissipate, as did the dim light where the monsters once stood. I could hear everyone’s breathing slow down, and I felt my heart’s own beat become more measured. “That was…impressive,” Sage said. “The wings and light are one thing. But I no idea that just light would be enough to kill.”

“Light can cause pain,” Bookshelf said.

“You have no idea how often a noble from Fairhaven would come out to the Eldeen to play, only to head back to the inn after being kissed by the sun for too long,” Rosa said. “Light can hurt. I’ve heard in some places like the desert, it can even kill.”

“That seemed to be a bit more than light,” Doxx said slowly.

I nodded in agreement, “It is difficult to explain it, but I poured a bit of myself into it.”

Adrissa looked at me with a mixture of awe and concern, “Did it hurt?”

I looked at the girl and smiled, “Not as much as they did. But it is tiring. So…what are they?” and I pointed to the corpses.

“Dolgrim,” Bookshelf pointed to the ones on the ledges before gesturing to the one on the ground, “and Dolgaunts. Creatures of corruption from ancient times. I had heard of them, but this is first time I have seen any of them.”

“The Dalkyr created them,” Rosa said, slumping down on the floor and exhaling with relief. “Too bad the Gatekeepers couldn’t seal their works away. They are horrible things.”

“Sadly, these aren’t the worst of them.” Sage said.

“Let’s not plan on finding something worse, shall we?” Doxx said.



We rested for a while, before continuing to follow the passage way down. Gossamer was again in front just ahead of the curve while we looked for some hidden steel within us to keep us going. The river of water was gone from the passage, all of it spilling into the pit in the room behind us. So, it was not surprising when I could hear the echoes of dripping of water ahead.

_--Another round room. Another pit. But no other exits either.

They must have climbed up from the pit. Is that all.

---Yeah that’s all I can…wait no. There is a platform on the far side, and it has a wooden box on it.

That’s it?

--Nothing else…I’m looking down the pit, and it has a tight spiral ledge coming up. But nothing down there I can see. But there is a lot of warm air coming up.

Don’t go in, we’re almost there._

“Gos is in the next room. Empty of Dol-whatever’s, a pit, and a box on some stone,” I relayed to the others.

“Think that is it?” Adrissa asked.

“If it isn’t the raven will gleefully point it out_.”_ said Doxx.

We rounded the corner and entered the room, and it was as Gos described. The river of water above, a now dripped from the hole above not in a single rivulet, but multiple ones, which shifted as around and dribbled from different points in the ceiling and into the pit below. On the far side, was a simple plinth of ston. Upon it was what appeared to be a square oaken chest, no more in length than my arm. Unremarkable, if it weren’t for the dents, scratches and gouges all along the outside. It had no lock or even hinges, as it appeared you could just lift off the top to see the contents.

“This seems too easy,” Bookshelf said.

“There aren’t any ledges overlooking everything here,” Adrissa noted, as she twisted around looking for another band of assailants.

The Blade approached the hole and looked down. “Warm. Smells like brimstone a bit. And something else. But if the Dolgrims climbed out of there, it will be hard no to notice them.

“I can remedy that,” Sage said. The juggernaut moved to the edge and pointed his armblade at the hole. From a panel on his arm, a small shard of crystal emerged, and it flashed. White fibers flew from it and stretched as the widening ball flew down the pit.

I moved inside and peered over the lip of the pit, and it was now covered in a giant web, covering it entirely. I nodded approvingly. “That will make it problem for anyone coming up.”

We approached the box with trepidation. It was nothing spectacular, just battered. And as I suspected, all you had to do was lift open the lid to reveal the conents.

“This has got to be a trap,” Doxx said.

“Nonsense,” The Blade said shaking his head. “We already ran into the trap. Why would you put another one right here?”

“Dear, aren’t those the same thing?” Rosa chided.

“No, they aren’t,”

The pair leaned in towards each other arguing their points.

“Yes, they are!

“Later!” I admonished.

“Honey don’t touch---“ Rosa started.

“I…I can’t,” Adrissa said. I turned to look and her hand was outstretched and flattened against something in the air above the box. I squinted and used my rod to try to touch it, and instead contacted a hard smooth surface above it.

“Nothing is ever easy,” Doxx said.

“It’s a magical ward. I can probably remove it,” Bookshelf said and he pulled out a black shard of crystal and muttered a quick incantation. He finished, and said, “Try now.”

Adrissa looked at the warforged and reached for the box and once again contacted an invisible surface surrounding it. The girl turned and looked at him and said, “Not quite."

"That should have worked,” the slender warforged said, perplexed.

“It happens to everyone I’m told,” Sage said.

“Not to me,” Doxx whispered under her breath.

Bookshelf glared at the old woman, “Funny. But I know this enchantment. Breaking it shouldn’t be this difficult.”

_--Myrai…_

“Unless it was empowered somehow,” Sage pointed out.

“I suppose…”

_--Myrai!

Gos later, we’re in the middle of something._

“Myrai, do you have…something?” Bookshelf asked me.

“Me? No…not for something like this.”

_--Myr…oh sodding Baator…_

In annoyance, I vocalized, “Gos is it…that…imp…imp…” my voice trailed off as my heart started to pound.

Rising from the center of the pit, were the wispy remains of webbing floating in the air and draped on top of a round mass of chiton. On its lower third a large toothy maw smiled, and slime dripped from its purple lips into the depths below. The red and blue mottled skin was covered in crusted scales that shifted and pulsed with every breath it took in that maw. In the middle of the orb or what you might generously call a face., a large lump in the center reminded me of an eye still closed, while on its crown staring at us, ten crab leg like stalks, each ending an eye, each with a different iris and sclera.

 It gazed at us, and its maw opened wide into a vicious smile, as it made a deep resonating grunting sound, and licked it lips with chilling anticipation.

*Session Notes:*
Welcome to khyber and please pick up your hot towel.  Dolgaunts have evasion, so that made things far more difficult.  The Dolgrim were not as much as an issue, but the casters kept choosing dex save spells.  It didn't work as intended.  Fortunatly a well timed combo, did.


----------



## Richards

Nthal said:


> “—sodding Baator! Grab! My! Rod!”



I somehow get the idea if I ever tried using that line on anyone I'd just get slapped.

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

Richards said:


> I somehow get the idea if I ever tried using that line on anyone I'd just get slapped.
> 
> Johnathan




Compared to my more recent campaigns that was a tame double entendre...very tame.

Says more about the current stuff than the prior ones.  

But honestly, glad you picked up on the humorous detail.


----------



## Nthal

The Gaze of Khyber - 8/11/2022​

I stood there, eyes wide in fear, my heart pounding. Every instinct I had, was telling, no screaming at me to run. To get away. To move! But the chamber had no place to hide. No where to avoid the sight of the monstrosity that hovered there over the pit. I had seen one once before in Sigil, and even that jaded place with immortals of puissance calling the shots, even they gave the Eye Tyrant a wide berth. I had heard at the Civic Festhall conflicting stories. Some that said that no two thought alike and each were paranoid, fearful of rivals. Others said that they were clan like, treating others of their kind that didn’t match themselves precisely with violence. They worked together sometimes. They were loners. No story agreed on where they came from, what they wanted, and how to avoid their ire. The only thing they did agree on, was the powers of their eyes.

It was now clear on why the chambers looked like they did. One of their eyes was able to emit a greenish beam that would turn any substance to fine ash. Flesh…metal…rock. It didn’t need hands to change the world around it. The chamber, the pit, the halls were all carved with a simple glance. Each of the small eyes, had different ways to affect the world around it with magic, and the one in the center above its maw would cause all magic to cease. That eye opened slowly, its cross slitted pupil, barely moving to regard our band as it grumbled.

“Morrrre wanderrrerrsss into the depths, and farrrr out of their own,” the tyrant growled in a calm and almost bored voice that resonated in rock around us. “Perrhaps you came seeking yourrr deaths, chasing those who came beforrrre you. Fooooolish fleshlings. But…I hold no malice towarrrds you or your ilk. You have…nothing we need,..or want. Your deaths will be quick.”

Behind me I heard some uncomfortable shuffling, and I was about to openly pray when, I heard in my head a voice…that wasn’t my familiars.

_++Talk to it, keep it occupied a while. You can reply to this message.

Bookshelf? What in Baator are you planning to do while we…can’t use…?_

I shook my head, hoping to find some sanity, and a modicum of courage. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I took a unsteady breath as I tried to think on what passed for small talk with a tyrant. I then remembered something it said. “Chasing others…I guess they didn’t expect to find…something far greater than themselves.”

“Myrai…what are you doing?” Doxx hissed at me.

“Quiet,” The Blade nudged Doxx with his shoulder. “It’s listening.”

The tyrant’s large eye blinked slowly, as it settled it’s gaze on me. “Arrrrogant mortal. I do not nnnneed flatterrrry.”

“No…no…of course not,” I smiled and looked at the crown of eyes around its head, many of them focused on me; a blue one, a green one, one with the pupil of a goat, another like a cat. Each different. “But before you send me on, I just want to look at your eyes. They aren’t like mine. Not at all.” Behind me I heard Bookshelf starting to mutter something arcane.

Several of its eyes squinted at me, and I heard it make a noise that was familiar, yet very unnerving, as it…purred at me. The tyrant lowered itself and drifted closer to me, and I took a nervous step forward.

“Myrai…I wouldn’t—” Rosa started, looking around Sage’s shield.

“—She’ll be alright,” Sage whispered, keeping his shield up in front, and trying to put his bulk between the tyrant and the rust

“She better be,” Adrissa whispered, gripping her bow tightly.

It’s central eye opened wide to look at me and my own eyes. I could feel warm breath caressing my cheeks as it drifted close to me. It was no more than a hand width away, as I felt the air move as it spoke again, “How…unique. Mirrrrrors. One my…master would find…intrique—”

Bookshelf finished muttering and stood up slowly to look at the aberration. It paid no attention to the warforged, as all of its eyes were fixated on me. I could feel brushing against the strands within me, just beyond normal perception.

“—Yes,” Bookshelf said quietly and confidently. “I’m sure you will want to tell Myrai anything she asks.”

“Inter…resting,” a single small eye turned its gaze on the warforged, while the rest continued to stare at me. Then the crab like stalks shook for a second, before it spoke again, “Myrrrai. Your name…is an interrrresting homophone.” The tyrant retreated from me and drifted back towards the pit it came from. “Ssstrange that you have commmmme at alllll though…you mmmmust havvvvve been seeeeeking the…other onessss.” Its tone was less menacing and more casual now, the threating edge gone.



“What other ones?” I asked smiling nervously at the sudden change.

“Sommmme immmmortalsssss…” It said leisurely, with the hint of a smile on its maw. “Thinking themmmmselves ssssmarter, and more cunnning. Fallllen sssservantssss from time dissssstant. Irrrrrelevant. Powerlesssss. What they werrrrre was…unnnnimportant. They were turnnnnned to assshhhh and dussssst all the sssssammme.”

“Why did they come here?” I asked, realizing that I wasn’t going to be a target. The others behind started to spread out from behind me, keeping their backs to the rounded walls.

“It involved that…box there,” the sphere tilted backwards as if to gesture with its rounded chin. I glanced behind me, and realized it was talking about the battered chest that we couldn’t touch earlier.

“They brought it here,” I said aloud, mostly to myself. “What were they doing?”

The tyrant chuckled, “One of themmm…with a head of some primitive beassst, well coifed, dressed in fine robes was attempting trite ritual on it. It was…dissssruptive. It didn’t get farrrr before I petrified it.” Looking around a moment and seeing nothing only caused the tyrant to laugh, “It…fell into the depths, shattering on the stone below. Its minions, soon perished.”

I nodded, and then smiled. “I know you detest being disturbed.” It tilted a little and stuck out its lower lip as it rotated and nodded in agreement. “And more are going to come looking for that box. How, about we take it with us. They’ll follow us and leave you alone?”

“That is the most ridicu—” Doxx started, shuffling around the edge of the room slowly.

“Yes it is dearie,” Rosa said shuffling along side of her. “But let’s play…nice.”

“Oh wait,” I said, trying to sound dejected. I glanced at Sage who nodded, and he started to lead the rest out. “We can’t touch it. They managed to do something magical to it.” I then looked at Bookshelf, and waved at them to move, while shielding my hand with body, so the tyrant couldn’t see. Bookshelf quickly and calmly, walked around the perimeter, unconcerned about the floating aberration, passing Adrissa and The Blade who were both edging themselves slowly around, with Rosa gritting her teeth and stepping quietly.

“Petty arrrrcana,” and from behind the cross slitted pupil of the large central eye, a light appeared, immersing part of the chamber with a dull purple light. When the light touched me, I suddenly felt…nothing. The strands that coiled, waiting for me to call them to action were just…gone. Like they never were there. I felt empty…alone.

_Goss?

Goss?

GOSS!?!_

“You will find its enchannntmentsss…nullified,” it said with a rattling chuckle. I stepped towards the box and hesitated a moment. Sliding my rod into its leather sheath, I bent down and lifted it up. It was surprisingly light, and I could feel something sliding within it.

“Well…that helps a lot,” I said as I turned around to the grinning ball of eyes. “Thank you. We really should be going, don’t you think?” The others had made it back to the tunnel and were starting to jog upwards.

The light faded and it rotated backwards in place, looking down on me. “Yes…that…sounds right. You should…leave. Now…yes…now.”

I grasped the box’s sides with both hands, and I tried to walk casually back to the tunnel we came down originally. “Thank you again…do you have a name?”

_Why am I still talking to it?!

--Beats me, but I figure you were having a moment. 

Goss!...Great…fly up ahead…make sure it’s clear._

“Name?” It turned around hovering over the pit with a bemused smile on its face. “I…I havvve onnne. But…you could nnnnever pronounnnce it prrrroperly little fleshling, with your limited tongue.”

Smiling nervously, I backed into the tunnel, keeping eye contact as best I could with the morass of eyes. But and as soon as I was out of view, I turned and broke into a run. My heart was already pounding from the conversation, and it had never stopped. I just wanted out of this cavern. Somewhere along the length of the tunnel, Sage stood waiting. I ran past him up the tunnel, and he followed close behind. It felt comforting to hear his heavy metallic thundering right behind me. But that comfort paled to the fear I still felt, as I continued to run, determined to put distance between me and that floating orb of—

“Wait a mmmoment.”

_Oh sodding--_

I skidded to a stop just as entered the chamber above. I clutched the box close to my armored chest as I stared at the tyrant hovering there, the orb slightly tilted to the side and backwards, like it was looking down on me, regarding me with disdain. My jaw dropped as I stared at the tyrant, not expecting this. So, I was equally surprised when—

“Oops!”

Sage slammed into me as I stood there in mute shock, knocking the wind out of me. I stumbled forward and lost my balance. I pitched forward towards the pit that was the doom to who knows how many others.

But I didn’t fall. Instead, I was lifted upwards and pulled closer to the monstrous orb. My face was now staring directly at the cross slitted gaze of the central eye of the beholder. I hung there in the air, clutching the box in my arms in desperation, shivering, eyes wide.

“I wonderrrr,” it mused with a deep purr. “….sssshould I take you belowww….? Yourrrrr eyes do showwww….promissssse.

My throat was thick with fear as I tried once again to smile to my…best…friend? “You are so kind to offer. But…but I have…an…urgent matter to attend to. I shouldn’t….take…any more of your time. So could…could you please…p—p—put me down?”

From the other side of the tyrant, I heard Bookshelf speak up, “She…is needed to…help clear up a disease that causes blindness. She—”

“—Blindnessss? Someone darrrrre triessssssss to conccccceal thissssssss world from my massster?” It growled, and I saw at least half of its eyes narrow its gaze at me, including the great eye in front of me. Its maw was now curling into a snarl, drool dripping out of sight, in the depths below us. It then puffed sharply from two nasal slits, each flaring. We turned in the air, and then I found myself pushed rapidly the edge surrounding the pit. Doxx and the Blade both caught and steadied me, as it continued. “Belassshyrrra will not be denied his sight. It wwwwilll not be taken from him. Go! Purge…this…plague. *GO!!” *it howled as it angrily commanded us.

I didn’t need to be told twice and nodded and muttered something like “Uh-huh!” and backpedaled to the tunnel that rose behind me. Once inside, I turned around and ran as fast as I could. The Blade and Adrissa each outpaced me, and so did Rosa who now lopped ahead in the form of a great wolf.

My lungs were on fire when I saw the light from the clouded sun ahead of me. My legs just churned, as my boots slapped on the stone, until I emerged into the cold frigid air of the surface. The icy air was a shock to my lungs, and I felt a sharp pain in them as tried to catch my breath. Instead, I grew woozy, and I sank to my knees before falling over and turning myself to lay flat on my back as I gazed up at the cloud covered sky.

I was panting for air, as Gossamer flitted over to me, and nuzzled my face. I turned my face and looked at my familiar as my breathing slowed. I closed my eyes and sighed, when I heard the raven.

“Heh heh, heh heh, heh heh,” Snaves laughter carried through the air and somehow caused me to clench my teeth together. “So…the servants of one master, were defeated by another. How droll.”

I propped myself up, and saw that only the two warforged were standing, while the rest of us were prostrate on the tundra, each with ragged breaths. Gossamer had turned and was staring at the raven, eyes narrowed, ears flattened as his fur puffed out. He let out a light growl before hissing, which I couldn’t ever recall him making before. His wings then spread wide, causing Snave to cock its head.

I gently put my hand on Gossamer’s twitchy back and spoke aloud. “We don’t want to hurt the raven. We still need it.”

“Yeah, leatherheaded pussy” Snave spat at Gossamer. “Will wonders never cease.”

“We need to leave.” Bookshelf said extending a hand to me and pulling me up to my feet.

“Can’t we—” I started before it cut me off.

“No,” Bookshelf said, cutting me off. “We need to be far from here when the enchantment finally fades. It will be angry. Very angry.”

“Shouldn’t we check that box for…it?” Adrissa pointed out, having just sat up.

Sage nodded, “If we do not have what we came for, we will need to go back down while we can.”

Doxx rolled over to where I lay and pulled the box close to her. She then quickly popped the pair of latches holding it shut, and popped open the lid, and stared within. She reached in and pulled into the grey light of the day an oblong gemstone, the color of deep cold waters. It didn’t glitter like many stones; despite being finely cut with hard sharp edges. I crawled over to where Doxx was sitting and stared at it. The center of the gem was a dark cloud; a stain that was the only mar to the stones’ cut beauty.

The Blade stood and stepped towards Snave, sitting on a branch of the nearby bush. “Well. Is that it?”

Snave yawned, and looked at the elf, “Yep.” It said disinterested.

The Blade nodded and turned to the rest of us. “Then we should go, while we still can, and put this hole behind us.”

I grimaced and stood up and nodded. “I certainly don’t want to stay and see how much more angry a beholder can get.”

“Right,” Sage said and turned to Snave, “Where is the other stone?”

Snave cocked his head at us and gave out a cruel chuckle, as it took off heading into the frozen hills to the north. And all we could do, was follow and pray that our luck would hold, and it wouldn’t be another scrape.

How wrong I was.

*Session Notes:*
So...we charmed a Beholder.   It was a surprise to everyone, the DM included.  The Beholder has a decent save, but it doesn't have legendary saves.   The bigger question at the table was about the antimagic field from the central eye;  did it protect its brain.   After debate, the answer was no...because if it did, how could it levitate or use its other eyes?  So Bookshelf just made sure to stay out of the central eye's vision...and we have a very strange encounter.

Now...oddly enough this is not the strangest beholder encounter this group had dealt with.  There was a beholder with a top hat, and eleven monocles trying to make a bargain while we were in the feywild.   Its a story in itself...but not today.


----------



## Richards

Then I will look forward to that day, because it sounds like a very interesting story.  (Much like this one!)

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

Richards said:


> Then I will look forward to that day, because it sounds like a very interesting story.  (Much like this one!)
> 
> Johnathan



That story would be an interesting hot mess.   I was playing a lizard folk with my son, and we went out of our way to write observations in Lizard Head Space.  The diction was cool but hard, but its only readable in short doses...and yet it is the main source of notes.  The other set, which was written by "The Blade's" player, is hysterical, but there is a bit of unreliable narrator there. 

It went from level 1 to level 20, and I only joined in at level 5.  But it was essentially a fractured mirror of reality where we were in the twisted side.  But it took a very long time to figure that out, and how to actually solve it.  But what started serious and solemn, quickly became a comedy.  The Lizardfolk as a pair, decimated the encounters, and the lizards out of water led to very memorable encounters.  things like:


One of the characters had a relationship with another that was a bit on the rocks.  After observing that the pair continually "Mated and failed" over and over again, setup a mating ritual trial to determine the fitness of the relationship.  It didn't go as planned.
The lizardfolk had no boundaries in terms of food.  So "Hag Hash" "Oni Snacks" "Black Dragon whelping jerky" were all things...with consequences.
The rogue had a distorted view about the lizard folk, thinking they just ate bugs and was vocal about it.  This led to the Lizardfolk gathering a bunch of bugs and offering them as a present to the rogue (in IRL, this was handled with some Harry Potter chocolate bug candy)
The lizardfolk story was that lizardfolk civilization was there first, but then decided to regress and hide as the mammals took over.  This meant that EVERYONE else was wrong from the Lizard's point of view; the Gods, History, etc.  This manifested as the "Great Lizardfolk's Burden" and a racist/paternalistic view on everything.
The Lizardfolk were constantly dealing with all the threats.  So they had a contingency plan, on how to precisely kill all the party if needed.   And it wasn't a secret; they were being practical, as "silly softskins" were already irrational pleasure seeking beings.
The Lizardfolk were constantly doing experiments.  One ran for half a year in real time, as suddenly without explanation, they kept shaking their heads, and passed a coin between themselves.  When asked about it, they simply said, "That would change the nature of the bet."  Later they presented a scientific paper, with data tables and analysis on how to alter softskin behavior by the external stimulus of exchanging a coin.
So...it was insane and wacky and fun.   And I don't have the cycles to do it justice.


----------



## Nthal

A Malodorous Encounter - 9/6/2022​

The day grew a little brighter, and much colder as we followed the raven, Snave, northwards. Cold enough that when we found some shelter along a hillside, Gossamer begged to be unsummoned. I admit…I was kind of envious. But the cold had set everyone on edge. Despite Bookshelf’s successful gambit, no one acted like it was a victory. They all just wanted to get the job done.

As did I of course. I wanted a lot of things: Warmth from any source chiefly. To finish the job at hand. To go…

Home? Did I want that? Snave’s banter was so familiar, yet his vitriol towards me was a bit much. I’ve been called nasty names before, mostly by children in The Gatehouse. When I worked at _Fortune’s Wheel,_ I was sometimes mistaken for being a jinkskirt, and then called worse when I wouldn’t roll with the patron. Or when they found out I was a Sensate and figured they could roll with me for free because I hadn’t had an experience with _them_. As if. Having sex with another person doesn’t qualify as a novel experience. But the novelty was certainly the names they could throw at me.

All the reasons *not* to go back to Sigil. And not that it mattered much, no portal, no portal key, and no way to a place that I knew did. Of course, if I did have that means, I would probably go back to the Misty Forest and see Arnara again. I left there in such a rush to help some friends in need; it wasn’t a proper goodbye. Arnara said she understood and told me that I should go. That it would be the best thing for me somehow.

But Arnara avoided talking about how it affected herself.

But she was as much out of reach as Sigil. So perhaps I should just explore the world of Eberron as best I could. It would be something to explore and experience at least—

“—There,” Snave said, and the raven landed on a nearby rock and gazed ahead of us. There in the snow, was what looked to be a squat squared off fortress. It sat on a hilltop across from us on a hill we had just scaled. But it looked almost new, and not a ruin.

“A border fort.” Doxx stated.

“Here? Isn’t this a bit out of the way of everything?” Rosa asked confused.

Doxx shook her head, “South of here is the Talenta plains, and it was proven late in the Last War, that Karrnath was vulnerable from the south.”

“From what?” Adrissa asked incredulously. “I mean the halflings on fastieths are good hunters, but they never fought Karrn—”

“—Not the Talenta halflings.” Doxx corrected. “They are dangerous, but they were more than happy to leave Karrnath be. The more distracted Karrns were, the more they were left alone. These,” Doxx gestured to the fort on the hill, “weren’t built to defend against a bunch halflings on fast lizards.”

“Then…what?” Rosa asked, confused.

Adrissa, Doxx and the two warforged looked at each other, with Doxx having the most obvious scowl, before Doxx replied, “The Valenar.”

Rosa straightened up at the words Doxx uttered and nodded in understanding, which left me confused. “What are…Valenar?”

Sage turned to look at me, “During the Last War, the nation of Cyre was always short on troops, so they spent gold to boost their fighting strength. They bought a lot of warforged, used Deneith hobgoblins, and hired regular mercenaries as well.  And then they also hired the Valenar;  elves from the island of Aerenal.  But they followed a different tradition than the Aerens; they were following the traditions of the Tairnadal."

“The Tairnadal were skilled warriors and horse masters,” The Blade continued. “So instead of following the Undying Court, they followed the tenets that are called the "Keepers of the Past."  And for them, a Tairnadal attempts to emulate heroes of the past. But more importantly, they believed…believe in proving themselves. There are no better warriors in the Five Nations.”

“But they betrayed Cyre,” Bookshelf said somberly. “They took a large chunk of it for themselves, called it Valenar claiming that the elves had rights to the territory dating back to the Dhakaani empire. And once no longer subservient to Queen Mishann, they started to fight…everyone. All of them seeking greater challenges in combat and the glory.”

“They must have vast number to be so—” I started before being cut off by Doxx.

“—No. They don’t have vast armies; just small warbands. But a single elf could boast of having the strength of a score of humans. And a small warband could wipe out regiments. So a series of forts were built; some are operational now, Fort Bones, Fort Zombie and Fort Deepdark, but there were smaller places like this one.”

I got the chills suddenly. I remembered the elves in the Misty Forest; they were skilled, and they were eager to be left alone. But I didn’t seem to remember them as blood thirsty. The thought of a small band having such a fearsome reputation that the others all reacted with such trepidation, so I asked, “Did these forts work?”

Doxx sighed, “Well it was only somewhat better than camping in the open. But the forts were fixed places. The Valenar knew where to attack, and they did. But it became boring. The armies wouldn’t come out to engage, and the Valenar weren’t keen on sieges. But after Fort Bones started to challenge them with steeds that never slept and ran all day or night, the Valenar came and razed many to the ground, including Fort Bones. But after the war…forts to the east like this one were abandoned. Deepdark started parceling the land out to settlers.” The woman sighed and looked at me with a shrug, “Maybe.”

“Well staring at it, isn’t going to help much,” Sage muttered. “Let’s head in.”

As we approached, the fort looked no less inviting than did before. The grey masonry walls were intact, with catclaws snaking up the walls, with streaks of decaying mortar behind the foliage. As we approached the gateway, I was surprised to see that the entrance that led straight into a wall, continuing onwards to the left and right. The was no sign of a gate or a drawbridge. The interior wall was much higher than the edge ways, with the rusty remains of wire on the tops. Passing through the entry way, and I turned looking at the cross section of the wall. I then realized that the exterior wall was sloped on the exterior side towards the main walls, tapering to a narrow ledge on the top no wider than the length of my foot. But something else struct me as odd. The exterior wall had no towers either, it appeared to not support anyone manning the walls at all.

Shivering, I pulled my cloak around me and stared at the edifice of stone puzzling how the construction worked, and from behind me Bookshelf spoke. “Many of the forts were experiments in design. This one’s main gate is on the opposite side. All the wall does is force horse riders between the inner and outer walls, making them easy targets, and unable to easily run away. “

“It doesn’t look very sturdy. The outer wall I mean,” I said still trying to picture it.

“The Valenar and the Talenta halflings don’t use siege equipment, so manning the outer wall was never the issue,” the slender warforged said. It was all set up to draw them in the gate and cut them down from above as the riders would circle to the entrance.”

I looked at the arrangement confused and pointed to the top of the interior wall. “Couldn’t you just…climb it?”

“Honey, horses are really poor climbers,” Rosa said smiling.

“And it didn’t matter, the Valenar still conquered it,” Bookshelf said.

“How?” I was very curious. Both walls looked intact, and there were no signs of damage anywhere.

“The Valenar poisoned the water supply,” Doxx said and spat on the ground.

“What?” Shocked didn’t describe what I felt. I had this image of warrior fighting blade to blade, or perhaps manipulation of magic. Not a low trick used by knights of the post.

“The Valenar crave challenges and victory,” Sage said. “How they achieve it doesn’t matter.”

“No,” The Blade disagreed. “It does matter. It matters to the ancestor they are tied with, and if that ancestor would poison wells….so would their kin today.”

“This is all very interesting,” Adrissa said with a droll tone. “But which way should we go?”

“That way,” Doxx and The Blade pointed in different directions, Doxx right and The Blade left. The pair stepped up to each other, and the tall lanky elf looked down at the smaller wiry old woman. “That way is the obvious choice.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Doxx scoffed. “This way is a better choice. Look, less weeds and debris.”

I turned and looked down each way and was confused. Both seemed to have the same level of weeds, rock and rubble.

Rosa also noticed the incongruity. “Boys, I think we should keep our heads and stick together.” The two continued to stare at each other, unwilling to give ground or concede. Rosa again tried to find a path, “Look if it means that much, we can split and meet at the entrance at the other side. At least that way we can be sure we find the gem. It could be anywhere.”

“I suppose that could work,” I said dubiously. “But couldn’t we just climb the walls here?”

Doxx and The Blade looked up the side of the wall and then looked at us as the old woman spoke again, “The walls used to have spring traps and other mechanisms to deter that.”

“I am also regretful to say I am not a great climber,” Sage said with a twang of guilt on his voice.

Doxx and The Blade glared at each other for a moment before The Blade said “Adrissa,”

“Sage,” Doxx retorted.

“Bookshelf.”

“Rosa.”

“Myrai.”

“I am not sure that this is a good idea,” Bookshelf said as they shuffled over with Adrissa.

“At least you weren’t picked last,” I said.

“We’ll meet you at the bailey on the other side then,” Doxx stated, standing confidently next to Sage and Rosa.

“And we’ll be waiting for you to catch up.” The Blade responded and then turned and made their way down between the walls with Adrissa and Bookshelf. I turned to look at the others and watched as the others receded into the distance.

The causeway was a dozen paces wide and it some time to reach the far corner. The snow crunched under our feet, with lumps of weeds piercing through the surface here and there. A light breeze blew in between the walls, which was only slightly better than the open plains outside. Plodding forward we made our way the corner, where the walls met a solid round pillar. The pillar wasn’t a tower, and it was missing key portions like doors or slits for bowmen. It was a solid obstacle of granite, and like the walls, it was all to force riders to pass them by, and in that regard it failed. The Valenar killed everyone anyway.

We were probably about half the length of the down the side of the fort when I suddenly felt uneasy. I then looked at The Blade and Adrissa, and it was clear that something had put them on edge as well. Adrissa was twitching around looking at the walls and behind us with quick sharp movements, while The Blade held out his bow out, arrow notched, and watch ahead of us, his head alternating titling right and left. Holding the nocked arrow in place, he quickly tapped the side of his head with his right hand. I took a deep breath and listened.

I could barely feel the light breeze blowing past by my frozen cheek, and all I heard was the brittle rustling of weeds dusted in snow as the dried branches rubbed each other. The Blade, and Adrissa stopped and were looking up at both the interior and exterior walls. Bookshelf stood there calmly and turned around slowly also looking upwards when I heard it.

It was a scraping sound, like horn on stone. Something treading carefully I thought, with a larger sound, followed by multiple little scrapes and then silence. Then it started again and glancing around, I got the same impressions as the others; it was above us. I was trying to pin it down when the scraping stopped. Adrissa and The Blade, rushed over to the outer wall, and pointed their bows over the taller inner wall, sweeping side to side as if looking for something to fire at. Bookshelf on the other hand, moved and put its back against the inner wall and waited.

I then felt a sensation like someone had dropped a pebble in the water, and the ripple washed over me. Puzzled for a moment, I then felt all the strands with-in me vibrate as if plucked violently. The now familiar ripple washed back over me, much stronger this time. I shook my head and listened, and I grimaced. It was a pull on the weave, to bring something near, much like the one I used to force Gossamer appear. But this was much bigger akin to a thick string on a viol being plucked. My pulse quickened as the strong scent of brimstone assaulted my nostrils, followed by clattering and chittering, as horn scraped horn and clattered together. It sounded familiar somehow, but it wasn’t something recent. Nor did I recall anything like that in Faerûn during my travels, so it must had been.

Without warning, my eyes started to water, and foul taste of something rotten mixed with the smell and taste of burned nuts. Around I saw a bile-colored cloud form, and I was wracked with fits of coughing. Everything burned; my eyes, nose, and throat as tears streamed down my face in a vain attempt to wash away the irritant. I coughed again, covering my mouth with the back of my hand. When I withdrew it, I saw that not only was it covered in blood, but the exposed skin from was sweating blood as well. My knees shook as I vomited my prior meal, when I heard a pair of loud thumps on the snow.

I looked up, fighting a wave of nausea and saw what appeared to be a large bug. Its chitin was a mottled mixture of blues and mauve and it sported a pair of mandibles that clattered and clicked together. It stood in the bile like cloud, seemly unharmed and it flexed a pair of sharp claws, and in a second pair, it wielded a tripled pointed spear, made of a purplish metal I didn’t recognize. But once I took in the sight of it, and saw a second on levelling its spear at Bookshelf, I knew exactly what I was facing.

“Sodding Baator. ‘Loths,” I growled and broke into another fit of coughing, just as it thrust its weapon straight at my belly.



*Session Notes:*

There was a lot of history that was developed around The Last War, and this was one of those sessions that really gave the world a feeling of being lived in. The Valenar, the Karrn forts like Fort Bones, and Fort Zombie.

The splitting of the party though…well you have to wonder how the other group fared. We’ll see who comes out a head soon.


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## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

Just caught up on the last couple of updates - very enjoyable, as always. Loved the beholder encounter. As for splitting the party ... it's not like anything bad ever happens when you do that


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## Nthal

HalfOrc HalfBiscuit said:


> Just caught up on the last couple of updates - very enjoyable, as always. Loved the beholder encounter. As for splitting the party ... it's not like anything bad ever happens when you do that



Ever.


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## Nthal

A Snake in the Garden - 10/10/2022​

The spear pierced my armor easily, and I felt the metal bite into my flesh. I would have probably screamed at the pain, if I wasn’t already in pain from the caustic vapors that surrounded me. As I spun myself to the right, I dislodged the spear just in time for my shield to catch a claw with its edge, knocking it away. I stumbled out of the miasma, and glanced at my arm, where I saw blood pooling on the surface and smoking; all horrid affects of the poisonous cloud that surrounded Bookshelf and myself.

Unlike most of the other things around us, I actually knew what I was facing; A mezzoloth. They made up the bulk of yugoloth armies and were the fodder for the Blood War that raged in the Lower Planes where I came from. But “fodder” was a poor way to describe a six limbed, insect as tall as a human, and as broad as a dwarf. Strong, resistant to magic, heat and cold, and able to spray their poisonous blood into a toxic cloud, they were more than a match for denizens of either the Abyss or Baator.

That meant for most mortals, an encounter would be fatal, and things were not starting out well.

A pair of arrows slammed into the ‘loth, each making a cracking sound as each pierced its carapace. It turned its head and chittered at Adrissa and The Blade. Both were notching an arrow, when the second one didn’t even turn, but instead simply dissolved into nothingness. Not a breath later it reformed next to the pair. Adrissa shrieked, as she tried to move away, and was rewarded with the spear piercing her in the thigh. She managed to limp away and get some distance, allowing her to loose a second arrow into the mezzoloth that attacked her. The Blade took advantage of its distraction, and circled around, loosing another arrow into it.

Bookshelf pointed a finger a the one that had attacked me and a beam of cold light slid over its shell. However, there was no sign of frost or ice like there usually was on most of his targets. I shook my head and reached out with a strand, and enveloped in a dark miasma, causing it to shudder as I yelled, “You can’t use elemental magic! Something else!”

As I was shouting the other one, brandished his spear, as Adrissa and the Blade started to run down between the walls, and gain some distance, confident in their archery skills. But the mezzoloth had other plans, as it pulled from its carapace a fleshy bud. It threw it behind the pair, and yet another cloud of toxic poison enveloped the pair.

“You’ve got to be sodden…oh no,” I realized that while the four of us had managed to get out of the caustic clouds, the clouds seemed to have a mind of the their own. They seemed to drift closer, and on the other end, the second cloud was doing the same. It wouldn’t be long before they converged, and everyone would be subject to their caustic effects. “They’re close…AUGH!” I yelled, as the spear pierced my armor again this time in my lower back. I almost collapsed from the pain from the wound, as well as my skin still sweating blood.

I turned, and summoned another miasma, this one clearly doing more damage as its shell started to flake away from the darkness I summoned. It in response chittered, and simple retreated into the fog, while its partner did the same. Bookshelf and I ran over towards Adrissa and The Blade, putting our backs together.

“I can’t see them for a clear shot,” The Blade grumbled.

“Same here,” Adrissa said breathing heavily. “And the poison is getting closer.”

“Bookshelf, do you have anything that can help here?” I asked. “At this point I need to see them.”

“Maybe. If we are lucky,” Bookshelf said. He reached into a pouch and removed a vial and, tossed the contents on the ground, which looked like water. As the water hit the ground it formed a pool that grew and grew.

“Elemental stuff won’t help much,” I reminded Bookshelf about my earlier warning.

“This is more like a beating,” the warforged said, and the pool of water erupted, into a wall of water that rushed toward the cloud and where we last saw the ‘lolth. The wave ran into the cloud, and we heard it collide with something, followed by angry chatters. As we watched, the cloud of poison and pain, sank down and disappeared into the earth. There on the ground, knocked on its back was the mezzoloth, its spear laying nearby, just out of reach.

I didn’t need to say anything, as the two archers shot the vulnerable fiend. I concentrated a moment and threw a pair of strands at it. A pair of purple bolts, leapt from my fingers and homed in and struck the yugoloth squarely in its midsection. It quivered a moment, before its limbs went slack and it started to melt into a puddle of goop, the colors of its shell leaving strips of color on the dirt.

“One down,” I panted and turned to look at the second cloud approaching us.

“I doubt the same spell will work again blindly,” Bookshelf said trying to spot a target in the dense poisonous cloud.

“We need something to draw it out,” The Blade said. “But I’m not sure wh—I can’t see.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked puzzled for a moment, as I saw the cloud sink into the ground, and the mezzoloth start to walk towards us calmly, its spear ready.

“Now what?” Adrissa said. “I can’t see either.”

“It’s a field that douses light,” Bookshelf said, as they turned towards the crunching footsteps of the fiend. “I might be able to dispel it, if I can figure out where the center is.”

I didn’t look directly at the loth, instead I turned my head as if equally blind. I had done this exact trick on hapless goblins several times, and creatures not used to being blind tended to panic. But the darkness that the loth summoned was nothing to me; all the colors of the day were visible to me, as was he.

“I have a better idea,” I said trying to hide my smile. “Get ready the one with the webbing.” I focused deep within myself. Not the strands, but the core of my being; the spark of the divine.

“Doesn’t help if I can’t see!”

“You will.” I said quietly. I opened my heart, let it pour forth. That familiar rush along my spine, was not just a simple warmth, but a raging fire. I could feel the wings unfurl and spread, as I whispered and raised my rod into the air.

_“Y ao maia.” _

Light burst forth from my rod and I watched the loth reflexively shield its eyes. That was all it took for Bookshelf to create a morass of webbing, anchoring the fiend to the ground. Surprised at the darkness falling away, it had no time to react, and it was quickly peppered with arrows as it struggled to escape its silk prison. In in matter of moments, it was over, as I hurled more purple bolts at it and Adrissa and The Blade continued to fire more arrows, while Bookshelf stood back and waited. It wasn’t long until it too melted away as it perished.

The Blade squinted and looked at me, “You can probably dismiss that. It’s a bit bright.”

“Actually, I can’t.” I said, looking at the light I created with a bit of amazement. “The power I put into it will fade, but not for a while. I think.”

“You think?” Bookshelf asked surprised.

“I’ve never tried to do that,” I said feeling a little winded. “All I knew is that powerful light can destroy darkness. I’ve created enough of it to know. But” I turned to look towards the direction we were heading, “We might need to hurry.”

“She’s right,” The Blade said, picking up some discarded arrows. “We cannot assume this was the only pair.”

Adrissa’s eyes went wide, “Rosa, Sage and Doxx! You don’t think they are—”

“—I do,” I said.

“We’d better make haste,” Bookshelf sighed.

---

We ran down the length of the fortress as fast as we could. Two mezzoloths were enough to hurt four of us badly. But there were only three of the others, and the ‘Loths didn’t have to contend with ranged attacks. It wasn’t that far in truth; it was just the dread that kept the distances long in the mind. But only made it worse as my heart pounded and prayed, I didn’t have to bury the others.

We rounded the corner together, and as we ranI could feel the breeze blow towards us, and there it was. Burnt nuts and rot; the same smells that assaulted my nostrils earlier in the form of toxic clouds. Ahead of us I could see what looked like an inner bailey that led into the interior of the fortress and there in its shadow I could see a long figure on the ground, its staff discarded nearby.

“Sodding…DOXX” I yelled and skidded to a stop and dropped to my knees ready to apply what power I had left, when Doxx rolled her head to look at me.

“I’m…fine. Just resting here,” Doxx said, shielding her eyes, “Isn’t that light a bit much?”

“Sorry…needed to keep darkness at bay,” I said sheepishly

“You sure?…its damn near blinding.” Doxx growled.

“Where are the others?” The Blade demanded of the old woman.

Doxx raised an arm and pointed to a hole in the stone next to the gate of the bailey. I turned my head and smiled as I saw a tired Rosa step through it. “Over here,” she said smiling, but the tone betrayed an exhausted soul. “I just patched up Sage,”

“I’ll just be a moment,” I could hear the Juggernaut say from somewhere within the bailey.

I sat down heavily on the ground. “Damned ‘loths. We’re lucky to be alive.”

“Eh?” Doxx said her head on the ground and turned towards me. “What’s a ‘loth’?”

“Yugoloths. Where I come from, they are just evil fiends fighting for the top bidder of their services. These were mezzoloths. The…weakest of them.” I said as Doxx’s eye grew more disbelieving them.

“The weakest? What the hell does that say about---” she started.

“—The rest are even worse. But they still pale to the Baatorians and the Tanar’ri in power and numbers,” I replied. “But what happened here?”

“Well,” Doxx started. “We were approaching the gate here, when a pair dropped a pair of poisonous clouds. They stayed inside of them and kept darting in and out of the poison. We weren’t making much headway until Sage came up with a solid idea.”

“Which was?” Adrissa asked.

“I picked up one, and slammed it into the wall, until it could no longer think clearly.” Sage said poking his head from inside the hole in the stone wall. “Fortunately, the wall broke soon after, killing it. That allowed us to defeat the second one.”

I nodded approvingly. “Works.”

“Is everyone feeling better?” Rosa asked earnestly.

“Well enough to find this other gemstone,” Doxx growled. I extended a hand and helped her to her feet. She grunted, but then walked over to Sage her gruff face softened a bit. “Thank you. You…you…saved my life.”

Sage nodded and clapped the old woman on the back a little harder than intended or perhaps as much as the old woman wanted based on her wince. “Its of no concern. My pleasure in fact. It feels good to do the function I trained for.”

The interior of the bailey was a shambles; the wooden beams that supported the upper floors had been burned away, leaving behind a hollow shell of a building. Clear that nothing much remained, we made our way through the wreckable, and entered the courtyard of the inner bailey. It was nothing that I expected.

The inside grounds were clear of snow. The ground was covered with a purple heather that looked unhealthy. Scattered around every five paces there was a trunk of a twisting tree, each with a deep maroon color to its bark. At the top, the tree’s crown, spread out in all directions like vines on a wall. The broad dark crimson leaves created a canopy that prevented us from seeing the sky, and how thick this canopy layer actually was. But spread across the branches that fanned out everywhere, were roses of sickly green and yellows, all shedding the occasional petal on the ground. The riot of color was fascinating, and vaguely nauseating as well.

“What the in Dolurrh is this?” Bookshelf asked quietly. “This isn’t natural.”

“No,” The Blade agreed. “It is not. And it is concealing something in branches above. I am sure of it.”

_Aw…caught so easily by an elf. I’m ashamed. But I am bored, so maybe I am not?_

Startled at the voice in our heads, we looked at each other in alarm.

_Oh, and so many of you have come after that small little stone. Perhaps this will be fun_

“What is…that?” Adrissa asked, her teeth clamped tightly together.

“Something powerful,” Rosa muttered. “And evil. This twisted garden is just…choked with it.”

I looked around, and I could hear motion in the leaves above, as something made its way along hidden branches above us, causing the trees to creak, and petals to flutter down. But while the ‘garden’ was still, the voice in our heads was not.

_Oh…I have been so bored, and I do want to play. And I’m sure you *want* that little bauble at the center of it all. Please hurry…I do want to get started!_

“I don’t like it nagging at us,” Doxx muttered.

“Well until we see it, there isn’t else we can do.”

“It could be lying!” Adrissa almost yelled. “Why should we believe it.”

_Oh, I love children; they always have a finger on the pulse of fear and things that parents are afraid to say. How tender she must be. I so do want to taste her._

I was feeling very protective of Adrissa, so I shouted in return, “So she’s wise beyond her years, not to trust a fiend like you.”

_Oh…how disappointing; I wanted to surprise you all. Especially you Myrai._

My heart skipped a beat, as I heard my name called out in my head. As I stood there, I wondered how it knew anything about me, and to my sinking heart, it spoke my fears.

_You’ve come a long way to hide little Aasimar. Not that you could really hide for long. This is a remote place but…not that remote._

“Who are you?” I shouted; my heart having none of the confidence I tried to put into my voice. The others glanced at me equally puzzled, but we all just watched the canopy above us.

_A friend. A fiend. Does it really matter. Come to the center of my garden here and we can…share some tea and talk about it? I have it on good authority you like _red_ spindle bloom tea after all._

My heart now pulsed quicker. The voice was wrong; I didn’t like that tea at all. But I did share a pot occasionally with a friend in Sigil. But I have never told anyone who the tea was for, and we never drank in public. So, to have it exposed to everyone was unnerving. “Sure thing,” I said, trying to suppress any quavering in my voice. “I’m sure there is a story you want to tell.”

_Of course; I’m bored. But you aren’t far from my garden’s center. Best we talk there._

Sage made a clicking sound, and pointed with his armblade ahead, and there was perhaps the largest trunk of a rose bush I had ever seen, its trunk so wide I couldn’t possibly put my arms around it. We moved as a group warily and were only a couple of paces away from it, when I could see another box on the ground; discarded like its contents were unimportant.

_I thought I was going to be stuck here for a long time waiting for no one to show up. But how happy I am that the wait was all worthwhile._

“You going to show yourself?” I challenged.

_Of course I am! I can’t peel the flesh from your bones otherwise. Or take your scalp as a prize for my collection. Of course, your eyes are unique as well. I do hope to take my time with you, so we can…well you can at least, scream about all the pleasures I have planned for you before…well she comes for you. All too brief for me…but I’ll make sure you remember it all._

“I find it troublesome you are so interested in one of our group,” Sage roared back. “And I am sure she will give you no such pleasure, as you will never get the chance.”

“That’s right! You, can taunt all you want you..you..loth!” Doxx shouted back in the air.

_‘Loth? Oh no…I may be far from home, but I am no mere Yugoloth come to play—_

I felt the pressure of air pushing against me, and I rolled to my left, trying to raise my shield up. But I was too slow, as a curved blade slashed by, and cut deeply into my arm holding it aloft. As I hit the ground on my now bleeding left arm, the pain now registered, causing my hand to spasm uncontrollably. Nearby I heard the whistling of more blades cutting through the air, and the sound of metal on metal along with a strangled cry from Rosa. I caught myself and regaining my balance and stood again and only found that I desperately wanted to cower and hide.

The fiend was easily half a body taller than Sage. Her face was beautiful, pale as snow and her long berry blonde hair was braided, each ending in a iron skull shaped bead. Her smile was one fully immersed in rapture, eyes far away, and a smile that betrayed a fiends dreams’ coming true. Her body was adorned with a simple harness, on which scalps, fragments of horns, and couple of hands dangling by her hips while her chest was bare of armor or anything resembling modesty. In her hands her swords were ready to strike, while squirming in the coils of the creature’s serpent like tale, poor Rosa was being squeezed, and I barely make out the word “Help!” as the air was forced out of her. The fiend now turned and leveled six sharp purple edged blades in my direction, the smile now twisting into one of cruel amusement as its voice echoed in my head, while the others tried to surround it.

_No…only the best for our little aasimar. Only something that a high ranked Tanar’ri like I can inflict on your poor mortal body. You can pray to your god for death if you like; but there will be no salvation from my blades. I will tear your flesh slowly, as I carve you like an animal, and then break every bone in your limbs, one joint at a time. You can beg for death of course; how could I deny you hope, false as it will be. But I’m only a taste of what is to come…Myrai._

*Session Notes:*
So first up, I'd like to apologize for my tardiness.  I had been a victim of a neck injury that has caused some nerve damage in my left arm, and needless to say, typing prose has been a bit difficult.  As I write this, I still only have partial sensation in my left hand.  On the plus side, I can type this!

The party spliting up was a foolish decision, which Doxx's player regretted making, and his bacon was saved by Sage.  Now it would have meant that there would have been four mezzoloths working together, but it would have been more interesting in my opinion.  If only that was the only problem.

I remember the day well, when the DM put the miniature on the bored, and Sage's player (my son) said.  "So, that's not what it looks like of course."  to which the DM replied, "Nope.  It looks exactly like that."  At that point most jaws dropped (Adrissa, my daughter didn't, because she had no idea what it was) as everyone else had played an edition or two before and remembered seeing them in passing.  It had a CR of 16, and it was a deadly encounter as presented.   Everyone gulped; and we did the only rational thing possible.

We paused for dinner, and discussed tactics through dessert.


----------



## Richards

Sorry to hear about the neck injury and the nerve damage; that sounds - a term we use a lot in my office - "sub-optimal."  Here's hoping for a speedy recovery.  And as I continued reading the description of the final foe in this write-up, I was thinking, "Uh-oh, that sounds like a marilith!"  This next battle is going to be intense!

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

Richards said:


> Sorry to hear about the neck injury and the nerve damage; that sounds - a term we use a lot in my office - "sub-optimal."  Here's hoping for a speedy recovery.  And as I continued reading the description of the final foe in this write-up, I was thinking, "Uh-oh, that sounds like a marilith!"  This next battle is going to be intense!
> 
> Johnathan



Ding!

Yeah.  Kind of obvious for anyone who has been around the block a time or two.  Up until this point the most memorable encounter with one was the "secretary" in Lolth's vessel in Q1.  That was funny.

This one was more...personal.


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## Nthal

Nthal said:


> Ding!
> 
> Yeah.  Kind of obvious for anyone who has been around the block a time or two.  Up until this point the most memorable encounter with one was the "secretary" in Lolth's vessel in Q1.  That was funny.
> 
> This one was more...personal.




And not to be rude, thanks on the well wishing for the neck.  this week we get to make a call on surgery.  I'm trying to positive about avoiding it, but we shall see.

Sub-Optimal is the understatement though.  Losing strengh in the hand and arm is alarming to say the least.


----------



## Richards

Oh, definitely.  We use "sub-optimal" at work for instances where a much stronger sentiment would be appropriate.  I'm not even sure how it started, but it's a tradition we're all carrying forward.

Johnathan


----------



## Nthal

The Coils of Death - 11/14/2022​

The towering fiend lunged at me, eyes aflame with malicious glee as they raised a pair of blades overhead. The pair whistled as they cut the air and I attempted to roll out of the way. The first blade sank deep into the ground, as I rolled to my left. But too late did I realize that was what it wanted, as the second one, pierced my outstretched thigh. The steel of the blade felt white hot, and as it sank first into the muscle, and then all the way through me and pinning my leg to the earth. I fell on my stomach, losing my grip on my rod, mouth agape and unable to make a coherent sound, my free hand sank into the cold frozen earth gripping it in pain, while I tried to twist and pull my shield over me. But the fiend held the blade in place preventing me from moving. Laying there I was exposed, as I lay on my shield making it almost impossible to use it as a barrier.

As my mind raced on how to extricate myself from this position, I heard the swishing sound of flames igniting on Sage’s armblade, followed by the clang of a parry, and the sound of a blade skating of the edge of a shield, and the grunt of a warforged. I could hear arrows in the air, and striking something, but I had no idea if they had found their mark, or even hurt the tanar’ri. Turning my head and I saw the fiend, unconcerned with the others attacking her, smiling and ready. Behind her, I could Rosa struggling weakly, within the serpent coils, while Doxx struggled to pull her free from the clutches of the fiend’s tail. A white beam of light then struck it in the chest from Bookshelf’s fingers and I watched it slide off, seeming to have no effect.

_*Your trite magic will not affect me. And I do love to see you, groveling in the dirt, you filthy lily!*_

She twisted the blade embedded in my leg and couldn’t hold back the scream of pain. The blade felt like a hot iron in my flesh, searing skin and even charring bone. I glared at the tanar’ri and threw a dark strand around her and pulled it tight. But the miasma of darkness seemed to slide away from it, leaving her unharmed. Groaning, and unable to move all I could do was stare at the grinning fiend, her comely face and fine braided hair a mockery of mortal beauty. She smiled as she looked down on me, content on my position when she then suddenly roared in anger.

Straining to look I saw in the clutches of her tail, now instead of a small halfling, there was a very large and very angry brown bear, and it had just sunk its teeth deep into her scaley flesh. She thrashed her head about and tore out a chunk and spat it upon the ground. Greenish blue blood poured from the open wound, and it the hunk of meat seemed to melt on the ground. The marilith’ s face contorted with rage, and she screamed in anger at the bear, while the bear retorted with a roar of its own. I could see the muscles around the marilith’s face tense for a moment, and the bears roar became weaker, and with horror I hear the snapping of bone as the coils squeezed Rosa, snapping her ribs. Blood spurted from her mouth as she was elevated into the air, and two blades of the marilith cut deeply into the bear’s hide,

“No!” and Doxx swung her staff at the fiend in a whirlwind like frenzy. The first swing was wild, and the second was deflected by the one of the many wicked blades the marilith held. But that didn’t stop her from planting her staff into the ground and vaulting her body up into the air, where Doxx landed two hard kicks in the backside of the demon. IT grunted and swung a blade in a chopping motion and caught an overextended Doxx. The blade sliced through her midsection, and she landed on her feet, staggering, as Doxx clutched her belly in pain.

“Foul thing!” Sage yelled and ignited his armblade once again and swung. But the marilith was faster by far and with a quick flick of her wrist she knocked it aside, and reposted, shearing through Sage’s shield and clipping him in the shoulder. Sage managed to raise his shield, preventing a nasty draw cut by lifting her blade off him, only to find that one of the fiend’s lower arms thrust a sword straight into his belly. She twisted it once and retracted it, causing the great juggernaut to stagger and shake its head.

Adrissa then dropped her bow, drew her swords and charged at the tanar’ri carving up her friends. She swung with her blades, and found success, creating a gash in the side of the fiend and causing more blue green blood to spray everywhere. She cut again and again, each time, creating a pair of smaller wounds. The fiend snarled and then noticed that frost had formed on her blade. Confused for a moment she raised five of her blades overhead and started swinging wildly. Great chunks of ice and rime fell from the sky and struck her and missed everyone else, as Bookshelf expertly manipulated their spell, to cause no damage to anyone close by. But the fiend looked more annoyed than hurt as she snarled at the warforged. But her gaze snapped back to Adrissa who now nervously regarded the large fiend as we all could hear what it was thinking.

_*I think I will carve you up next, once I remove the limbs from this troublesome trollop! *_

I gulped, and saw the fiend turn its gaze to me once again. One blade still was thrust through my leg and held me fast to the ground and I shook with fear as I saw the other five sweeping down to do what the fiend said. I didn’t think I just curled up and threw all but one of my dark strands around me, while that single thread reached out to the beyond, and channeled something even colder than Bookshelf’s storm.

The blades swung down and hit solid ice within which I was now entombed. The fiend grunted with frustration as the quintet of blades could do nothing to me as they carved away clean slices of ice away, but none came close to my curled-up body. Snarling, she twisted the blade embedded in my leg, and pulled it free from the ice. I could feel no pain from it though as the ice numbed me and staunched the bleeding in my leg

_*How novel to hide yourself in ice. I will have to carve it, and your flesh from your bones!*_

Through the fractured prism of ice, I saw her raise all six of the blades and was ready to carve me out of my icy redoubt, when I saw a pair of arrows sink deeply into her chest. She looked down at them and looked over and past me, her eyes narrowing in hate.

“Take that fiend! I will bring you to justice after I…woah woah woah WOAH!”

From my supine position, I watched as the marilith melted away into black smoke. The Blade lowered his bow for a moment, and then suddenly dove forward, as the tanar’ri emerged from a detonation of smoke. I watched as the elf scrambled and a pair of swords slashed through the air, followed by the sound of tearing leather. “It’s after me! Do something citizens!”

“Do something?” Doxx said exasperated. “You ran away to get a shot, and now *we *have to run and catch up!” I could feel the earth shake as the juggernaut ran past me, and I had a glimpse of Adrissa running past me, along with the bear form of Rosa, battered and bleeding, but with plenty of fight left in her. I could then see Bookshelf stand over me and as they made motions, and this time cast a bead of light over me. I could see the light of flames illuminating his form, as what I presumed was a ball of flame engulfing the fiend in a warm embrace.

I then saw cracks forming in the ice around me, and after a moment it shattered and fell away, freeing me. Bookshelf extended a hand, which I took and pulled myself upright, and turned around to see what had happened. The Blade was running, his legs lifting off the ground in an awkward, yet effective stepping motion to keep away from the fiend. Who easily slithered and caught him, cutting him with two deep wounds. But Sage and Doxx managed to flank her and attempted to keep her from perusing him to no avail, as each of their blows were knocked away by her swords. Rosa had in the meantime changed back into her halfling form and was now shouting and guiding a glowing figure of bear of light around the battlefield, running it through the group and causing their wounds to close.

“It is difficult to hurt it,” Bookshelf calmly remarked. “Many of the spells I am using it seems to easily will away from hurting it.”

I could only nod grimly as I bent down and picked up my rod. I then reached inside myself for a dark strand and cast it over its head, leaving the strand intact between us. It barely took any time as I then pulled from power from light strand and two bolts of light streaked from my rod and struck her. Each time they did, the dark strand pulse and pulled power from me and pushed it into the marilith causing it to shudder as the black energy, sapped its own causing the fiend to grunt in pain. Still winded from my wounds I muttered aloud. “Just be direct and…”

“And what?” Bookshelf asked?

“Pray.”

It then took the time to glare at me and appeared ready to slither over to me when Sage pounded forward and intercepted it. As he did so, his form became indistinct and hazy, and I could barely make it out. He swung with his armblade, which clipped on it its flank. It turned and gave the warforged a wicked smile, shaking their head.

_*I see you behind that pitiful excuse of an illusion.*_

She then swung four of the swords at the juggernaut. One was knocked aside with his shield, but the sound of three of the swords impacting his metallic armored skin rang out with the crunching and scraping of metal on metal. Oils and other thick fluids sprayed from the Juggernaut, who staggered under the blows. On the last sword blow, Sage sank down onto a knee, and with a shaky raised his shield overhead.

_CRACK!_ The marilith grunted and twisted around found Doxx swinging her staff overhead and again and bringing down on the back of the serpent followed by her pounding her fists on its scaly hide. With a snarl, the marilith’ s tail coiled up and then struck, surrounding Doxx in its scaley grasp.

_You pretend to be an old frail woman._ _No matter, your bones will snap just like one._

The Blade stopped running and pivoted kneeling on the ground. He levelled his bow parallel to the earth and took careful aim before releasing two arrows from his bow. Both found their mark, sinking deep into the belly of the tanar’ri. It turned and swung a sword down splintering the arrows. Still holding Doxx in its clutches, it twisted its torso and flung a pair of her blades at the elf. The Blade raised his bow and deflected one blade away, but the second one sunk into the elf’s chest, causing him to grunt in pain. It slithered to the elf, retrieving one blade, and then grasping the pommel of the second. It lifted the elf up, and he slid down the length of the sword. The Blade grasped the edges with his gloved hands, trying to avoid slipping down the blade. His attempts were in vain as he sunk to the hilt, his face contorted in pain. The marilith lifted The Blade upwards until he was at eye level, her face in a triumphant smile.

“Let him GO!” Adrissa snarled, as she twisted and cut into the coils of fiend’s serpentine body. The girl was now covered with ichor and blood as she carved into the tanar’ri, her eyes streaming tears with each blow. The marilith turned and looked down at the girl with disdain.

_*As you like little one. *_

The marilith swung her arm wide, and The Blade flew off the blade and sailed through the air, his leather cloak flapping in the air, before finally striking a tree. His body fell to the earth in a heap. The elf started to slowly push himself off the ground with one arm, as his second clutched his abdomen, his jaw clenched in pain.

_*Now shall we see to you now?*_

“Don’t…don’t…you…touch…her!” Doxx gasped, still entangled in the coils of the tanar’ri. The fiend didn’t even deign to acknowledge the old woman, and instead whipped her tail around in an arc. Doxx then flew into the air, and she sailed until she slammed straight into Rosa, bowling her over. Doxx rolled to a stop next to the halfling, her eyes closed and unmoving. But the marilith simply continued her stare at Adrissa and with one of her lower arms, made a quick swing the sword whistling as it cut through the air.

My world slowed to a crawl as I saw a great gush of blood spurted away from Adrissa’s neck. Her swords dropped and stuck in the earth pommels up, as she dropped to her knees and slumped to the ground unmoving. The fiend smiled and turned to look my direction. She slowly slithered towards me, when I saw Bookshelf step in between us, saying only “Stay in the ring.” The warforged extended a small wand from their forearm, then spun quickly. One the ground, a ring of blue fire erupted surrounded us. But I could feel no warmth from the blue flames.

“That’s not going to work,” I said moving closer to Bookshelf. “They are resistant to fire and magic.”

“It will have to stand in it to reach us.” The warforged said. “Just do wha—”

The marilith charged through the wall of flames. They licked her skin and scale, causing them to crack and smoke as she embraced the warforged, and she carried him and pushed them through the curtain of flame and held him tight. She simply smiled at him, as wooden parts of their limbs caught aflame, and he thrashed in her arms.

_*I have face the fires of Avernus with others of my kind. No fire you can conjure can compare. But I suppose for a lesser creature, it is a a difference is without distinction.*_

The blue flames evaporated into nothingness, as the warforged ceased to struggle. The marilith tossed the limp form of metal and wood aside, and tilted its neck, cracking the bones within. With cold eyes she looked at me, and with smile that widened with delight she addressed me again.

_*Now…that we are done with foreplay, shall we get to down to business?

Session Notes:*_

This fight was now a distant memory, and the details are foggy.  But it was not a forgone conclusion we would survive this encounter.   The marilith actually had more health than a standard one for the simple reason it wouldn't survive The Blade's sharpshooter hits, or Doxx's pounding.  The fight wasn't nice, nor fair.  But it was fun.

On a more serious note, my writing productivity has been significantly curtailed due to pain.  Pain I hope to have corrected with surgery this week.  I hope this addresses things, and let's me get back to some productive writing once again.


----------



## HalfOrc HalfBiscuit

The unfair fights are often the most fun ... at least if yoU do survive.

Sorry to hear about the pain. Hope the surgery goes well.


----------



## Wilpower784

I took a hiatus from this for awhile, but now I’m back into the swing of things. Caught up and things have been rather amusing. Look forward to more once you’re feeling better.


----------



## Nthal

Two Gambits - 12/25/2022​

My heart pounded in terror, as I stood there, unable to move. Not that my torn-up leg would let me anyway, but where could I flee to? She was larger, stronger, faster and the tanar’ri tore apart my companions with ease and was now going to apply her undivided attention and finish me off. My legs were like jelly and I wanted to just fall down and surrender my life, but I was sure that wasn’t the fiend’s plan.

The marilith called me by name. She knew of me somehow, and all of this was a show to get me to break down in fear. But I had never met a marilith before, so she was here for someone else. As it slid on her snake like body towards me, I looked at the sorry state of us all. Bookshelf and Adrissa could be dead. Sage Redoubt was still kneeling, slumped against his shield. Doxx and Rosa each moaned where they lay, but I had a sudden flare of hope as Rosa turned her head to look at me with a pleading look in her eyes. An unspoken hope for the one thing I might be deliver for her: Time.

I straightened up to meet the eyes of the tanar’ri. She was wounded; sword cuts, arrows stuck out here and there, her flesh burned. But she didn’t care or acknowledge the pain they caused, if any. For all I knew she enjoyed it as much as a mortal would enjoy a fine meal. After my time as a plaything for fiends, I knew their tastes and interests could vary widely. I just needed to play the right part.

“You’ve travelled a long way to find me,” I said, holding my ground. “Isn’t sending you to chase a small lily like me a bothersome waste of time?”

The marilith cocked her head with a smirk. “Oh…the challenge was there. Dispatching the original guards for that stupid diadem took far more work than dealing with you. And for some reason the Arcanaloth’s didn’t think they needed to secure their mezzoloth’s assistance,” and she pointed with her chin to a spot behind me. There, barely visible on the frozen ground, were strips in a pile of shredded cloth and leather, soaked with ichor of some kind. No... not one pile…two of them. “Idiots busy squabbling with each other, rather being creative about what needed to be done. But I guess not everyone can be Shemeshka. But I am still disappointed…I expected you to be more effort. Pity.”

“Might be the only thing we can agree on,” I said, causing her to arch an eyebrow. “I don’t know why I ‘m worth the effort either.”

The fiend snorted, “I think this is point where I make a pithy comment about how it isn’t about you. Or so Teiazaam indicated when she called in a favor.”

“Teiazaam?” I said trying to hide the confusion in my voice. “So, they want me for leverage I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t give Teiazaam that much credit. Too young, too new at her role. She just does what Jade tells her. And she’s already at the risk of burning too bright for her own good, having managed to aggravate some senior Baatorians recently.”

I gulped and felt the pit of my stomach sink at the name.

Jade.

The radiant sister nearly broke me in Sigil, I was ready to jump over the edge of the city in Suicide Alley. Truth was she didn’t need to hurt me; she just tore me open and I inflicted all the pain to myself in front of her as she reclined with friends and sipped wine as I howled at long forgotten pain that has gnawed at me ever since.

The marilith’s coils wrapped themselves around me and lifted me from the ground and began to squeeze. Held on for a while, but it was long before I felt a rib snap under my breastplate, follow by several more, causing me to drop my rod onto the frozen ground as I struggled for air.

“Oooo…” the fiends said with a soothing like mocking voice. “She only wanted you alive for the journey. Some pain might let you keep your sanity intact is my gift to you. But I’d rather you not struggle, so I am afraid those arms and legs are going to stay here.

My breathing was shallow and fast, as my chest spasmed from the pain. I could feel blood enter my lungs, as my splintered ribs tore into them. I coughed gamely, and thick dark blood came up, staining my lips and chin as I felt myself grow weaker. My head slumped, and I saw from the corner of my eye that Rosa had been busy, as a small bear ran from between my companions. I could see Sage moving slowly, and Doxx slowly roll to her feet. The Blade, was on his back, and notched an arrow. Finally, I saw Bookshelf quietly roll over and stand. I few options on hand but one; a long shot at best as I moved my hand from trying to pull the serpent’s coils off of me, and instead reaching into my pouch and grabbed a round hard object within.

“Hmm, any opinion on what limb we should remove first?” the marilith asked with a sneer.

I pushed my right arm straight towards her face. One arm of the fiend’s dropped a sword and grasped my wrist and pulled my arm taut. My shoulder ached, and I realized it was about to pop out of its socket when I got its attention. “I guess it was fun while it lasted. C—c—can I know your name?”

The marilith looked at me with amusement. “Aren’t we a bit forward mortal, asking for names.”

“Its not like I get to keep an arm for a memory,” I said raggedly and then my voice fading to a whisper. My strength, and barely able to breathe. Her face was swimming in and out of focus and I felt like I was going to pass out when she took the bait.

Still smiling she leaned in a bit, and her head was now very close to my arm. “My name among others is Xianala,” she hissed.

“Well, Xianala I doubt you will ever forget this,” and I snapped my fingers on my right hand.

Xianala’s brows furrowed looked at my hand and for the first time realizing it wasn’t empty. In my palm was an amber gemstone, given to me long ago on another world. As the fiend looked at my hand in confusion, I pulled at the matrix surrounding it, and it exploded in a flash of light in the marilith’s face.

Xianala hissed and reflexively pulled herself back from me and released my arm. But as she did so, Sage sprang forward and thrust his armblade deep into her abdomen. Before twisting and causing the wound to erupt int green flame. The marilith blinked, trying to clear spots from her eyes, and her lower arms kept swinging wildly trying to block other attacks to no avail. Doxx easily avoided the blades and swung her staff quickly working down the coils the at held me, until the fourth blow finally was enough to cause the fiend to drop me to cold earth.

The Blade quickly stood and started to fire arrow after arrow at the blinded tanar’ri. Who screamed and twisted madly at the assault. Then from under her, I felt a surge of magic as Bookshelf caused the earth to erupt. Stone pillars struck her, giving her no reprieve from the assault. I lay there on the ground gasping for air and watched a beam of moonlight descend on Rosa’s command, burning the fiend with its radiance. And tried to push myself up with my arm, when I felt the edge of bladed underneath my chin. Xianala vision was now focused on me as she leaned down and held a sword’s edge to my neck. “If you want her to live I sugg…URK!”

Adrissa said nothing as she used her sword to remove the fiends’ s head from its shoulders. She hissed one last time, as all her limbs dropped their weapons in a clatter. As each touched the ground, each one melted into steaming mercury, while her body melted into ichor.

I lay there on the ground watching it all, unable to saying anything more, as my vision faded to darkness, with only the voice of Rosa saying, “Hang on Myrai!” and warmth flowing through out my body.

---

I opened my eyes and saw Adrissa with tears in her eyes as she stroked my cheek and smiled. As I focused on what I was in the midst of an argument.

“It knew her!” Doxx exclaimed.

“It does not change anything,” The Blade muttered back. “I am sure that all of our foes know some measure of us.”

“That’s just it! I’m tired of being in the dark here.” Doxx shouted. “I mean we were almost shredded by a marylin—”

“Marilith,” I said sitting up with a groan. “They act as generals in the Blood War…and they tend to lead from the front.”

“A…general. Alright. Why in Dolurhh is a general of a bunch of…of whatevers here looking for you.”

“I don’t suppose saying it could have been worse is a help?” I said standing up. “But I suppose that a marilith is a bit smarter than some of the bigger tanar’ri.”

“Bigger?” Adrissa asked her face said with a look of concern.

“Is there any reason to think that this…marilith will come back?” Rosa asked.

“Extra planar creatures take time to reform after being defeated on a plane not their own.” Sage commented.

“I seem recall could be months or years,” Bookshelf commented. “But it varies on power and the rules of the place.”

I shrugged, “The mezzoloths we fought probably will reform and remember nothing. The two arcanaloths who were originally here,” and I pointed to the spots that Xianala showed to me. “Probably will but will shrug and not return without a better deal. As for the marilith…she won’t be back; she came as a favor to—”

“Who is Teiazaam then?” Doxx asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know who, but it isn’t her that scares me. It’s…Jade.”

“Jade?” Rosa asked. “The name doesn’t sound like one a fiend would carry.”

I chuckled darkly, “All of their names are pretty; all of them colors. Each color coming from the evil halo they wear. Only thirteen exist, and they are far more powerful than that marilith.”

“And why would Jade be interested in you?” Sage asked.

“I met Jade years ago,” I said the others looking at each other in surprise. “Then I was in the palm of her hand for a day and…never had I wanted to die more. But the day was done, and I had other…clients to entertain. But she didn’t come back. So, I suspect it’s not me she wants. Not really.”

“Then what?” Bookshelf asked quietly.

I looked down a moment and sighed, before meeting the warforged gaze. “My father is my only guess. A being I have never spoken to. I’m more curious on the how they found me, but I somehow bet the marilith didn’t ask and wasn’t told. Anyway, did we find what we were looking for?” I asked changing the topic.

Bookshelf nodded. “We have it. The…fiend wasn’t interested in it all, and the box was intact.” Bookshelf took out from a pouch at his side, the gems one a deep blue, the other a deep red.

“One sapphire, one ruby,” Rosa murmured. “Any significance to that?”

“The harder gemstones are used for certain higher magic rituals, spells and in powerful artifacts,” Bookshelf replied. “But these seemed to have been bound before, there is patterning inside so, they are not just another pair of gems. But I am surprised.”

“About what?” The Blade asked.

“They aren’t dragonshards,” Sage commented. “Their capacity for magic is greater and more efficient. It is possible the ancient fiends needed something else for a reason but it’s difficult to tell.”

“We should get back to that…other fiend Twisted Mirth,” The Blade said. “I have a bad feeling about all of this, and we should get it over with”

“What about these other fiends after Myrai?” Doxx snapped.

“Well, I have an idea about that,” I said somberly. “And there is only one person that could answer it—”

“--Good…any time we can avoid going near that hag—” Doxx started.

“—is Twisted Mirth,” I said sadly.

Doxx’s jaw dropped, and she shook in fury, “Why!?”

“Because she’s not just a night hag. She’s a Great Auntie,” I said.

Rosa’s eyes almost popped out of her head, “How do you know that?”

Turning I looked at Rosa, “Because she told us. She specifically said; ‘…it as close to an even exchange that you will ever get from another auntie.’ “

“What that even mean!” Doxx exclaimed beyond frustrated.

“It means that Twisted Mirth has access to knowledge and power beyond any of us here, including the marilith and her friends.” Bookshelf said quietly.

“It also is outside of everything we discussed,” I said as I felt a cold chill creep up my spine. “So…as much I hate do so…I’ll have to make a bargain with her.”

Session notes:
"Twisted Mirth, I have come to bargain!"  Oh yeah...like THAT ever works.   But Merry christmas all.  Its been the first time my hands have cooperated, I'll take this as a good sign!


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## Wilpower784

Nothing quite like that part of the campaign where the backstory and the adventure all perfectly come together.


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## Nthal

Hag never were a part of Myrai's problem spacel, although the stories of Ravel Puzzlewell are known to her.  But they keep popping up in a lot of my campaigns, played or written.  Arnara had a more forceful interaction, and its possible her cousin Lyanna has more to bargain with there.


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## Richards

Glad to hear the hands are starting to heal.  And nice fight with the marilith!

Johnathan


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