# Droid101's Story Hour, "Of Gods and Devils" Updated 10/12!



## Droid101 (Aug 30, 2004)

High fantasy, high adventure!  Magic, monsters, and mayhem!  Interesting story, recurring characters, and fun!  Strange classes, races, NPCs and villians!  Join in for the ride of your life!  Read the latest post to see if you'll like it!  Start from the beginning for a full story!  And above all, have fun!

_Edit: Any questions about a class, an NPC, a villian, or anything are welcome!  Please ask away!_

Here are the main characters.

*Eltharion Ulthuan - Elf Ranger / Druid / Ancestral Avenger.  

Ogrim Oakenshield - Dwarf Fighter / Cleric of Moradin / Dwarven Defender / Templar.  

Bink the Sorcerer - Human Sorcerer / Wizard / Eldritch Master.

Grog of Grumbar - Goblin Barbarian. 

Bloodthorne - Curst Human Rogue  / Urostifter.    

Blaze Brague - Human Cleric / Mighty Contender of Tempus.  

The Necromancer - Human Wizard (Necromancer). 

Viknen Shadowdweller - Gnoll Adept / Hexer.

Balophan - Centaur Ranger.

Damaré - Human Fighter.

Senman - Human Fighter.

Jezda - Orc Fighter.

Trek-Donal - Human Monk / Zerth Cenobite.

Misani - Yuan-ti Tainted Human Psion (Egoist).
*

Some quick pronunciation help!

Eltharion Ulthuan - _ell-thar-ee-uhn  ool-thoo-wan_
Ogrim - _oh-grim_
Seive - _sehv_
Zhentil - _zen-teel_
Damaré - _dah-mah-ray_
Trek-Donal - _trek  doh-nahl_
Gryrtag - _greer-tag_
Brague - _brayg_

Attached is a quick sketch of my continent map of Aldor-Valencia, along with any landmarks of the characters' journies.


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## Droid101 (Aug 30, 2004)

Of Gods and Devils…
_The Exploits of the Invincible Heroes_

The continent of Aldor-Valencia runs the gamut on races, climates, and terrain.  The southeast holds the Cape of Blades, south is the Baron Peninsula.  Southwest is the Tormyr Forest.  Northwest is the Tralig Desert.  North, the trade region of Four Towns.

On the western seaboard of Baron, Drelk held strong trade ties to the elven forest kingdom across the western ocean.  Eltharion Ulthuan and Ogrim Oakenshield grew up here.  Eltharion was an extremely lithe, but unearthly quick elf.  Pale skin, hair the color of the wooded forest in winter.  Ogrim was a stout dwarf.  He longed for the life of his people; ale, meat and dwarvish chants.  But his duty was to be here, and so he was.  Eltharion, however, was naïve about the world, thinking that nobody could do wrong, and the world was open for those who wish to act.

Eltharion’s parents lived here as the elven trade liaisons.  Ogrim was sent also to bolster trade ties, but with the dwarves in the northern mountain ranges.  They spent most of their free time training with a local adventuring party.  Arelion, the party’s ranger, and Eltharion’s inspiration to follow the path of nature, had died recently.  A small funeral was held, the other members of the party along with Ogrim, Eltharion, and Johnathan; one of their friends, were present.  Ulgrim Stonehammer, the huge dwarf, Trisha Torvanna, cleric of Kelemvor, God of Death, Krin Selmer, creator of melodies, and White, the stark white haired warrior, and leader of the group, all paid their respects to the fallen.

It wasn’t but a week later, that White fell ill.  Constantly feverish, slipping in and out of unconsciousness, babbling madness, and pale as his own white hair.  His servant, Mannquelin, sent a summons for his master’s apprentices…

Eltharion, Ogrim, and Johnathan arrived.  

“Hey man, what’s up?”  Eltharion spoke.

“It’s _Mannquelin_, sir.” 

“Whatever…”

“Right, anyway.  I have summoned you here to ask you a favor.  As you know, White has been sick for over a week now.  None of the pharmacists who have looked at him know what it is.  I had a shaman come from the Isle of the Barbarians off the east coast, and he gave me the recipe for the cure.  Moonleaf and Thrulk tusk are the ones we don’t have.  Ulgrim, Trisha and Krin are going to find the Thrulk in the northern swamplands.  However, they need you to retrieve the Moonleaf from the great Tormyr Forest, the only place it is known to grow.  We need it in 3 weeks… we’re counting on you.”  Mannquelin seems out of breath, but his stature holds firm. 

“For White, we shall disembark immediately.”  Ogrim states matter-of-factly.

And so they did.  They headed straight to the port to see if there was a ship setting out in the next few days.  Their search proved futile, however, as the only trade ships setting out weren’t leaving for at least a week and a half.  That would give them no time to search for this Moonleaf.  They had to go on foot.  The journey would bring them out of the Baronian peninsula, west along the beaches, and south into the Tormyr forest.  By their estimates, it would be a good eight day travel, leaving them enough time to search for a couple of days and make it back just in time to make their deadline.

They set off immediately, stopping off briefly at home to grab their backpacks and other supplies.  The kingdom of Baron is very friendly toward all races, so they never had any trouble traveling.  One day north took them to the town of Froal, where they rested that night at a local inn.  They looked around the next morning for a trade caravan or some other way to travel with a bit more safety and security.  They found a group of about five traders with a horse-drawn carriage.  Ogrim pulled Eltharion and John aside.

“I don’t trust them.”  Ogrim piped up, his deep voice sensing mistrust.

“Don’t worry about it, we can handle ourselves.”  Eltharion put in.

“I agree with Eltharion, we should be fine.”  Johnathan ended the discussion at that.  Two to one, they would travel with the wagon.

After a half day of travel, they reached the Great Wall of Baron; a wall that travels from ocean to ocean, almost 12 full miles across, totally closing off the peninsula that Baron sits on from the rest of the continent.  The gate guards are polite as they let the wagon pass.  The heroes keep to themselves, while trying to overhear any conversation they can.  The wagon driver had been pushing at an almost alarming rate, and seemed very relieved when they got past the gate guards.  Ogrim sensed that something wasn’t right.

He sensed correctly.  Looking behind them toward the wall, they saw four horses ride out toward them at a blistering pace.

“Great, the jig is up.” The wagon’s driver was already pulling out a dagger and getting ready.

“I knew this was a bad idea…” Ogrim grumbles.

The horses quickly catch up, surrounding the wagon.  Four armed guards point longswords at the wagon.  

“Surrender now, you are charged with armed robbery and suspicion of murder!” Ogrim, Eltharion and Johnathan immediately put their hands up, as they know they are innocent.  The four bandits do the same, and the driver drops his dagger.  They are all deprived of their weapons, bound, and set on the wagon with one of the guards taking up the reigns as a driver.  They start heading back towards the Wall.

Ogrim whispers to Eltharion, “We don’t have time for this…”

“Seriously, we need to get out of this and get going.”  Eltharion nods in agreement.

As this conversation is going on, Ogrim feels something fiddling with his bonds.  The bandit driver is cutting the rope with another concealed dagger he had!  With the bandit’s and Ogrim’s bonds loose, they quickly burst into action.  The bandit jumped on the back of the guard who was driving the wagon, and Ogrim picked up one of the crossbows that was near the back of the wagon and shot one of the horse-riding guards behind them.  A resounding thud of the bolt knocked the guard from his mount onto the earth and into unconsciousness.  The other two horse riders drew their blades and closed in on either side of the wagon.  The bandit had successfully pushed the driver from the wagon, who rolled a few times before slowly staggering to his feet, already quite far behind the moving wagon.  Ogrim cut Eltharion and Johnathan’s bonds, who both picked up crossbows and aimed at the guards.  Eltharion’s shot glanced off the rider’s shoulder, causing no damage.  Johnathan’s shot flew wide, missing entirely.  

The other bandits had all freed themselves by now, and were similarly scrambling for a weapon.  Too late for two of them, as the horse-riders came in from both sides and slashed them, each scoring a deep wound and taking the bandits out of the fight.  Just the driver and one bandit were left.  The driver veered the wagon to the left, attempting to hit the horse rider, but with no luck.  In an unexpected move, Ogrim punched the other bandit, cleanly knocking him out with one hit.  Johnathan and Eltharion both aimed a the same horse riding guard and both crossbow bolts connected; one in his upper leg, and the other in his shoulder.  That was enough to send the man reeling into unconsciousness, although he was caught in the saddle as the horse slowed down.

Seeing the battle going as it was, the other guard quickly sped off toward the Wall, presumably for reinforcements.  Ogrim turned to the bandit driving the wagon, and summarily pummeled him until his lights went out.  Eltharion and Johnathan went and gathered the bodies of the guards and bandits alike.  They bandaged their wounds and made sure to stop the bleeding.  They gave the bandits a few more kicks for good measure; and to make sure that the guards woke up first.  They also tied up the bandits very tightly.  They took their newly acquired horses (from the bandit’s wagon, not the Baronian guards’), and set off along the road to the north.  

“I told you something was amiss,” Ogrim stated flatly.

“Yeah, but look, we made it out all right, with basically no time lost, and we got free horses!” Eltharion was always looking at the bright side.

They continued to follow the dirt road north.  The evening finally drew near, and they set up camp.  Eltharion felt great sleeping outside.  He didn’t get the chance to do that much in the bustling port town of Baron.  The night seemed so perfect, that they didn’t even use their bedrolls.  

The next day, early in the morning, a small wagon train was coming toward them, from the north.  As it got near, one of the drivers waved and hopped down off his wagon.  He was carrying a large battleaxe, but clearly didn’t know how to wield it, as he held it from the base of the handle, letting the blade dangle downward.  

“Ho travelers, is there an ‘Ogrim’ with you?” said the man.

“That would be me,” Ogrim stepped toward the man.

“Some fancy adventurers down the road said to give this to you.  Some big ol’ dwarf and two girls.  He said his name was Ogrim also.  Said that you should add some notches to this axe,” the man handed the fine axe to Ogrim.

The notches were many, filling up almost an entire side of the axe.  The many times Ogrim had talked to Ulgrim they had spoken of his axe, the Orc-Killer.  This must be it.  It was finely crafted and Ogrim was honored to use it.

“Thank you stranger,” Ogrim gave him a silver for his troubles, and they began to travel north.

Once the wagon train was out of view, the northern road forked east and west, with a less traveled part going straight north.  They knew that the Adventurer’s Guildhall was north, and they had all wanted to visit it, but they also knew they had no time for such things, so they turned west toward the beach, and their ultimate goal, the Tormyr forest.

The next five days were pretty uneventful.  The beach to their left and the grasslands to their right, they continue to travel.  On the sixth day they reach the town of Helian; the last town before the depths of the Tormyr forest.  They go in and rest, leaving their horses there and setting out on foot into the forest.

The overgrowth is thick and travel is slow.  The humidity is pretty bad, making it that much more uncomfortable to travel.  An entire day is spend trekking through the forest.  All they have to go on is a simple sketch of the tree on which the Moonleaf grows.  Eltharion is in his element here, and is faring well.  Ogrim doesn’t much like it, “too much stuff brushing up against me.”  Johnathan is beginning to take a shine to it, however.

That night, they found a small clearing to set up camp.  They elected against a fire, as they didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention to themselves.  Attention was drawn, however, as in the middle of the night they were awoken.  They dashed for weapons, but an attractive human male wearing skins and a horse quelled their fears with their words.  

“Do not be alarmed, we mean you no harm,” the human spoke.  The horse then slowly changed form into that of a slender elven female.  

“You are in dangerous territory.  Orcs run this area.  Savages and primitive,” her voice soft.  “My name is Seive.  This is Helmar.  We are a part of a druid conclave here in the woods.”

“We’re searching for something called  Moonleaf; have you heard of it?” Eltharion asks.

“Why yes.  But you had better turn around and leave now.  You have no chance at retrieving it.  The only tree of that kind left is in the middle of the orc encampment.”  Seive states flatly.

“We aren’t turning back!” Ogrim adds.

“We can’t go back.  We have to get this Moonleaf to help our friend,” Eltharion stated.

“If you are set in your course, then so be it.  May the forest bless you.  We will be one mile to the east of here if you need us.  Go straight south for half a day; that is where the orcs reside.” Seive transforms into a horse once again and gallops out of view.  Helmar follows swiftly after.

“Orcs…” Ogrim’s voice is full of both hatred and eagerness.

“We better try to sneak in at night, pick the leaf, and take off,” Eltharion says.

“Wow, those druids were amazing…” Johnathan’s mind was wandering. 

They slept the rest of the night, and waited until the following evening before setting off to the south.  They reached a fairly large clearing.  It was obviously orc-made, as they could see many tree trunks in the midst of small tents in the moonlight.  They spotted the tree.  

“Oh no…” Eltharion’s confidence deflated.  The sketch they had seen was not to scale.  Not by a longshot.  The tree, standing in the middle of the camp, was easily 80 feet high.  With no branches.  And from what they could see (which wasn’t much) only one leaf at the very top.  There was a tent at the base of the tree, as well.

Eltharion burst into action.  “You two wait here.  If there’s trouble, come get me.”  He began to climb the tallest tree around the camp.  He found a good sized one (about 100 feet) and started up.  He climbed slowly and methodically, making sure not to fall.  He got near the top, took out his bow, attached his rope to an arrow, and fired toward the Moonleaf’s tree.  

A hit!  Oh glorious luck.  The arrow stuck about five feet from the top.  He tied the rope snugly around some branches of the tree he was in, and he began to cross it.  Hanging over 80 feet in the air, hand over hand, he slowly made his way across the orc camp.  Ogrim and Johnathan merely stared in horror.

A campfire was burning below, slightly.  One orc could be seen sleeping next to it, but that was the only apparent guard.  Eltharion neared his goal when a javelin flew past him.  The orc by the fire was awake!  The orc, not having anything left to throw, picked up a branch that was burning in the fire and flung it…

…and hit the Moonleaf, catching it on fire and sending it trailing down toward the camp.  Eltharion quickly jumped onto the tree and started sliding down.  The orc had pushed on another tent, with two more emerging, groggy-eyed.  Ogrim and Johnanthan were on them.  Ogrim’s axe came down with thundering force, cutting deep into the orc’s belly and sending it back to Gruumsh.  The other fell quickly as well, as Johnathan swiped with his longsword and shortsword, both scoring deadly hits.  Eltharion landed next to the big tent that was right next to the tree, and charged at the orc who had thrown the javelin.  He quickly drew his warhammer and whip, and closed on the the orc.  He whipped him once, the snap causing the orc to wince.  His warhammer, however, swung wide as the orc jumped out of the way.  Ogrim, on the other hand, didn’t miss.  His axe sunk deep into the orc’s back, who fell into a heap.

Out of the large tent emerged an older orc wearing fur robes.

“Stop this, be quiet, come here,” the orc’s speech was slow and highly accented.  “I see you want our Leaf.  I have more.  You will trade.  Come in tent.”

With slightly puzzled glances toward eachother, the heroes entered.  The tent was decorated with many dead-animal skins and parts, and the old orc went straight for a chest.  He pulled out two dried leafs.

“Here is leaf.  What do you have for trade?” the orc asked.

The three heroes immediately began to empty everything they owned, from extra rope, torches, grappling hooks.  All the extra crossbows from the bandits.  Ogrim had to give up his own crossbow, along with Eltharion giving up his longbow, quiver, and arrow.  By the time they were finished, all they had was their clothes, armor, and weapons left.  No supplies whatsoever.  The orc looked over the pile and nodded slowly.

“This will do.  Here are leafs.”  He placed the two leafs into a small pouch and gave it to the heroes.  “You go now, chief will awaken.”

They took off.  Before they were even halfway towards the edge of the camp, a large horn was heard blowing from the old orc’s tent.  Orcs began emptying from their tents.  Luckily, only three were between them and escape into the dense woods.  Weapons drawn, they charged in.  The orcs weren’t so lucky, as they didn’t have their weapons on them.  One tackled Ogrim, while Johnathan made fast work of another one.  Eltharion just kept running, with the final orc running after him.  Ogrim pushed the orc off the top of him, and Johnathan finished him with a cut across the throat.

Eltharion reached the woods.  A horse was there?  The druid!  Eltharion hopped on, and the horse kicked the orc squarely in face, his nose splintering as he fell.  The horse then bucked off Eltharion, his head motioning toward Ogrim, who climbed on.  They all raced out into the forest, quickly getting lost in the brush and losing the orcs.  An outrageously loud roar is heard from the camp as they retreat, something in orcish.  They don’t pause long enough to think about it.  Their run slows to a hustle, and their hustle slows to a walk as they feel they have put enough distance between the camp and themselves.  The horse changes back to Seive the druid, and she leads them back to their conclave.  Helmar is there, waiting in a nice clearing with a clear pond.  They all rest and gather their thoughts.  

The druids empart wisdom on the party.  Eltharion and Johnathan are taken by the ways of the forest.  The druids teach them some fundamentals, and both are on their way down the druidic path.  Ogrim grumbles about the outdoors and takes a puff of his pipe.  They sleep the rest of the night.

Will they reach White in time?  Will the cure even work?  Will _everyone_ want to be a druid?  This and more, next update…


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## Droid101 (Aug 30, 2004)

The next morning, the party says their goodbyes to the druids and heads off to the northeast; back to the forest town Helian, and to the road that will lead them home.  One day of travel through the woods and they reach Helian, where they get their horses back.  Luckily, they had paid in advance for the stabling fees, or they would be in trouble (as they had traded all their money and gear for the Moonleafs).  

The ride back home is quick and uneventful.  The serene beach setting makes the travel easier, and talk is light.  Both Eltharion and Johnathan become accustomed to their newly acquired druidic powers.  They follow the road east, which then turns south as it meets the fork, and back down into the Baronian peninsula.  The guards at the gate of the Wall grant them entry, and they head into Froal where they stay the night.  The next morning they go to Drelk, and their journey is complete.  In 20 days, one day shy of their time allotted, they have retrieved the Moonleaf.  They head straight for White’s place…

…he’s gone.  Mannquelin invites them in with a long face.

“It’s, it’s terrible… Master is gone.  During the middle of the night a few nights ago he just, got up and stumbled off!  I didn’t see this of course, but some bar-goers that night did.  He scratched one of them on his way by.  It seems that anyone who gets scratched, well… develops a similar illness.  It’s similar in symptoms, but dissimilar in the sense that…”  Mannquelin pauses, his face mortified.

“What!” Ogrim, Eltharion and Johnathan speak simultaneously.

“They all die!  In two or three days from when they are scratched.  All of them we’ve seen.  At least six people have died already.  He’s long gone.  Headed north, they say.  Have no idea where.  You MUST find him, you must!”  Mannquelin is exasperated.

“Where are Krin and the others?”  asks Eltharion.  

“They should be returning tomorrow.  I hope.”  Mannquelin reasons.

“Well, we aint waiting that long.  We’re going now,” Ogrim seems determined.  “By Moradin’s shield, we won’t let any more harm come to White!”

“Tell them to meet us at the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  We’ll find him…” Eltharion states.

“Good luck to you all,” Mannquelin goes back inside.

“How could he have gotten past the gate at the Wall?” Johnathan asks the other two.

“Let’s go find out,” Eltharion and the others head back north to Froal, where they rest.  They don’t get in until very late.  Asking around a bit they hear of White passing through.  

“Good, we’re on the right track,” Eltharion states.

They head north to the gate the next day, and by mid day they reach it.

“Hey, did you see anybody weird pass through the last few days?” Eltharion asks.

“No, what do you mean by weird?” the guard questions from atop the wall.

“Have you seen the adventurer White pass through?” Ogrim asks, shaking his head at Eltharion.

“Ah, yes, saw him a good four days ago I think.  We saw him coming so we opened the gate.  He seemed quiet, but that’s to be expected, his partner just died, right?  He just kinda walked north.  It was a little strange, he didn’t have anything packed up.  No supplies or bags.  Come to think of it, that is a little weird,” the guard muses.

“Thanks for the help.”  The party presses forward.  Eltharion has difficulty tracking White, as the road is often used by travelers and merchants.  He thinks he gets a good read at the fork.  One set of steps doesn’t follow the road, but kind of veers off west.  And so they follow.

The party decides to walk alongside their mounts for the time being, as Eltharion needs to keep a close eye on the trail, making sure not to lose it.  They continue to follow the trail, sleeping at nightfall, and continuing at daybreak.  The trail leads them straight to… Canticus?

They’ve heard of the town.  Small, basically a traders rest-stop that grew into a town.  None of the party had ever been there.  And from the look of it, nobody was there now.  Nobody.  The streets were empty.  No lights were on.  It was abandoned.

The rain clouds had been gathering for the past couple of days, and a light rain had begun to fall.  The wind was blowing, making it an eerie scene of 3 heroes standing between some abandoned buildings in the rain.  Sound?  Something came from a nearby building.  Goblins!  Four of them charged out of a building, with three more coming out of a building from the other side.  They were all brandishing some worn short swords, screaming for revenge.  

Eltharion tripped one with his whip and slew another with his hammer.  His strikes hitting exactly the right place to cause extra pain, as he was very versed with goblinoid creatures.  Johnathan, using his newly acquired scimitars, sliced through a few of the goblins.  Ogrim shield-bashed one, and cleaved through another.  The winds were growing.  A few unlucky seconds later, and the heroes were surrounded by a couple more emerging goblins.  Using their new druidic powers, they were able to heal some of their wounds.  The winds continued to grow, and just as the heroes were about to defeat the last few goblins, the winds grew to almost hurricane force.  The heroes bolted for a big building, found a basement, and went down.  The two goblins who were left standing were picked up by the wind and smashed against a nearby building.

After the sounds of the wind had subsided, the heroes ventured out.  Several of the smaller buildings had collapsed.  They went into one of the buildings where the goblins came from and found a few more, looking scared.  Ogrim spoke Goblin.

“What’s going on here?” Ogrim asked in the simple language.

“Strange man give disease!  Goblins hurt!” the sniveling goblin points to the two goblins laying down on the cots at the other end of the room.  Their skin pale.  They wouldn’t last the night.

“Great warrior go to find disease giver and kill!” the goblin pipes up.

“Hm, that’s not good.  Let’s rest here until morning, take a look around, and get moving.” Eltharion says.

So they find another building, the rain dying down a bit, and camp out inside.  The next morning they search around and find nothing, nobody, nowhere.  The church is empty.  The inn is empty.  They run into a couple of adventurers in the tavern, however.

“Ho there, don’t be alarmed!” the Halfling, wearing the spiky studded leather speaks up.  His hair unkempt and messy.  His companion, a half-orc wearing similarly spiked armor, looks them over.  

“What are you doing here?” Eltharion asks.

“We could ask you the same thing.  But we’ll answer anyway.  We’re just a couple of guys looking for adventure.  I’m Flick, and this here is Grug.”  Flick pats the big fellah on the back.  “Saw another guy hiding in the back, go check it out.”

Eltharion gives them a final look; Ogrim doesn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, and they move to the back of the tavern.  Two handles are on the back of the halfling’s armor.  They wonder why.

In the back room, is a skinny man huddled in the corner.  He has a little stockpile of dried food and ale sustaining him.  He looks curiously at the party.

“I’m Drek.  How’re you?” the man asks.

“Eltharion.  This is Ogrim, and Johnathan.  Do you know what happened here?”  Eltharion asks.

“As a matter of fact I do.  I lived here.  Well, I still live here, as you can see.  The town seemed normal enough.  Until people started worshippin’ that bastard God, Iyachtu Xvim.  Everybody seemed into it.  Like a common interest.  I wouldn’t have it though.  One night, I seen everybody gathering at the church.  The next morning, everyone was gone.  Seemed strange to me.  I looked around the church but didn’t find nothing.  So here we are.  And I want to get out of this damn place.  Problem is, I’m scared of those goblins.  I got scratched by one when I was trying to make my way out of here.  I’ve been hiding out ever since.” Drek summarized.

“Come with us, we’re tracking our friend.  We’ll take you to whatever town we pass by okay?” Eltharion offers.

“Sounds great!” Drek hops up, giving the party the food he has stashed. “I know where there’s some gold, too.”  He pries up a stone in the corner, and there’s a large sack.  It jingles when he lifts it.  “Let’s go!”

Ogrim helps the man carry the gold sack, and they head out, bidding farewell to Grug and Flick.  They follow the trail some more, as it almost backtracks entirely, heading directly east from the town of Canticus.  It becomes increasingly difficult to follow due to the rain, but they make due.  Drek rides the horse and they make pretty good time.  They head into a lightly forested area, feeling that they’re catching up.

That night, by campfire, they share some stories with Drek, entertaining him immensely.  Drek wants to be a servant, oddly enough.  He says that he likes to do what he’s told, as long as he gets paid for it.  

Suddenly, they hear something in the brush off to the side of their campfire…

To be continued…

Will the heroes find White in time?  Who is in the bushes?  Will Drek be their manservant for life?  These and other important questions will be answered next time!


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## Droid101 (Aug 31, 2004)

A savage looking goblin; his hair wild, his toothy maw frothing with rage, his eyes bloodshot red.  Battleaxe leading, he charged from the brush.  Two glowing green bolts flew from behind him, striking him in the back.  Eltharion and Ogrim looked at each other in confusion.

The goblin stumbled toward the campfire, growling almost madly.  Eltharion idly swung at it, not connecting, nor really wanting to.  Ogrim shield-bashed the axe out of the goblin’s hands.  It flew right into the campfire.  The goblin’s eyes went wide as he tried to reach in to get it.

Ogrim and Eltharion chuckled to each other, sheathing their weapons.  Johnathan was on the other side of the fire with Drek, making sure to keep him safe.  Both were looking a bit pale…

As the goblin was kicking at his axe to get it free of the flames, another form emerged from the woods.  Wild blonde hair, unmistakable good looks.  “I’m Bink.”

“Eltharion Ulthuan.  This is Ogrim Oakenshield.  That’s Johnathan and Drek.” Eltharion spoke up.

“Yes, I know Drek.  I’m here because I’ve been looking for him.  I knew he was living in Canticus and I heard that it was abandoned.  I needed to see what happened to my old friend.  Drek, how have you been?” Bink asked.

“Fine…” Drek lets out a cough; deep and rough.  “Been better.”

“You know, you guys don’t look so good.  Do you think they…” Eltharion didn’t want to think about it.

“We better leave them here.  Give them some extra blankets and rations.  We need to make speed towards the nearest town to get them some help.” Ogrim reasoned.

“We have to find White…” Eltharion replied.

The goblin finally got his axe out and put out the fire that had started on the handle.  He picked it up and looked at it, shaking his head.

“I’ll never kill the disease bringer now!  Look what you’ve done!” the goblin spoke up in a slightly high-pitched common.

“Disease bringer… does he have white hair?” Eltharion asked.

“Yes, white haired stranger who staggers around.  I must kill him to avenge my people!” the goblin states.

“Listen, the man isn’t bringing disease.  We need to capture him alive, and we’ll free him from whatever is causing this.  He is our friend.” Ogrim said.

“Hm…” the goblin looked over everybody, and nodded slowly.  “I’m Grog.  My wolf Trakker is in the woods.  Let’s find this man.”

“Great… a goblin…” Eltharion said not so enthusiastically.  “You two, take this horse and ride towards Brunswick castle.  It should be half a day west of Canticus.  Get help, and we’ll meet up with you there later.  We need to find White.”

“Okay, let’s do it, Drek.” Johnathan said.

“I want to find out what gave Drek this disease.  I’ll go with you to find this ‘White’ character.” Bink said.

“Sounds good, let’s get some rest,” Ogrim needed his sleep.

The next morning they said their goodbyes to Drek and Johnathan, who rode back west, while Bink, Grog, Eltharion and Ogrim continued to follow the tracks southeast.  Grog and his dire wolf, Trakker, were a boon.  Together, they were almost as good at tracking as Eltharion.  Trakker used his natural sense of smell to help Grog follow the tracks, aiding Eltharion.  They had a much easier time, and quickly caught up to white at the end of the lightly wooded forest, that same day.

About 100 feet ahead, they saw White, staggering.  Far off to the east they saw what appeared to be a small building in the distance.  Well, before they thought about it, they sprung into action.  Planning ahead the night before, Eltharion and Ogrim grabbed a large blanket they had and swooped in from either side, bundling White’s arms against his body.  Another blanket from Grog and Bink completed their trap, and they set it all in place with ample use of rope.

“Well, that was easy.  What’s that building?” Eltharion asked.

“I think that’s the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  It’s kind of a place of refuge for travelers, though their prices can be a bit stiff if you’re not a member.” Bink explained.

“That’s perfect.  This is where we’re supposed to meet Ulgrim, Krin and Trisha when we find White.  Let’s go!” Eltharion was excited, as was the norm.

They carried the wrapped body of White carefully, placing it on the back of a horse and riding it toward the building.  It was a huge building at that!  When they approached, it seemed to reach up into the sky, at least 100 feet high!  Quite wide as well.  They gave their horses and wolf to the stableman, and went inside.

The double doors were huge and magnificent.  Inside was equally beautiful.  Embroidered rugs, paintings, statues, and a huge skull of some reptilian creature hanging in the center of the large entryway.  At a small table sat a young man, wearing what looked like a jester’s outfit, complete with jingling bells and foppish shoes.

“Welcome travelers, to the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  Please sign in for completeness.  Will you be staying the night?” the man asked.

“Yes, we would like two rooms please.  And tell us about this place.” Eltharion was curious as always.

“The Adventurer’s Guildhall was founded by Donovan Grumoile, Blaine Brague, Diane DeVille, and Drake Elison.  The current Council seats of the the Hall are held by Enzonito the Ancient, Wallace Brunswick, Gordon McDale, Grunge Hacker, Felix Stromdak, Adlai Stormseal, and Brolin Flystrigth.  My name is Basil Evans, two year member.” The fop replies.  “It is a place where the greatest adventurers and thrill seekers congregate to share stories, relics, and memorabilia from their exploits.  If you strive for it, one day you may become a member!”

“How does one become a member?” Ogrim asks.

“Oh, years of adventuring.  That, or you have to do something pretty great indeed.” Basil replies.

“Isn’t Brunswick the name of the castle town to the west?” Eltharion asks.

“Very astute of you.  Wallace Brunswick is a great paladin who attained partial Godhood through his patron deity.  He founded that city and is their king.  The other members of the Hall’s council are his personal knight bodyguards.  Quite the prestigious positions!”

“Interesting.  Anyways, we’re going to be getting upstairs now.  If you see a big dwarf named Ulgrim…” Eltharion started.

“Ulgrim Stonehammer.  Joined the Hall on the same day, let’s see, six months ago, as Krin Selmer, White, Trisha Torvana, and Arelion Strefale, I belive.” Basil boasted.

“Uhm, yes.  Summon us when they arrive, please.” Ogrim’s raised eyebrow told the story.

They went up three stories to their rooms.  They set White in a corner where he didn’t really move.  Grog and Bink eyed each other curiously pretty much the whole time.  Grog had never met somebody so… interesting…

“When do we get the demons out of this thing?” Grog asked.

“It’s not demons.  It’s an infection.  We have part of the cure, and hopefully soon, the other part will arrive and we’ll free him of it.” Eltharion explained, Grog’s eyes wide, as though he were learning new and interesting facts.

They had someone stay awake to watch White’s body that night; Eltharion didn’t sleep much anyway.  Early the next morning, they got a knock at the door…

…it was Trisha!  Her dark plate armor, raven hair and teardrop tattoo on her face were unmistakable.  

“Eltharion!  Ogrim!  Come, let’s get White downstairs so I can perform the ritual.  Do you have the Moonleaf?” Trisha asked.

They handed it over.  She took it, and helped carry the bundled up White downstairs.  As they were coming down the last flight of stairs, they could see the counter with Basil, but standing on the other side, signing in, was Krin and Trisha!  The Trisha at the bottom of the stairs looked up confusedly.  Ogrim and the others looked around, equally confused.  But it didn’t last.  The Trisha holding the body of White dropped it, stepped back, chanted, pointed a finger and let loose a ray of writhing black negative energy which ripped at the form of White, sending it into convulsions.  Bink’s eyes widened.

“She just killed him!” Bink exclaimed, his study of the magical arts helped him identify the spell being cast.  A particularly potent one; Finger of Death.  

The imposter Trisha then took flight and crashed through a nearby window, fleeing the scene.  White’s body began to pulsate, as a claw ripped through the blankets.  Blood quickly stained the entire form, and it was growing; fast…

See what happens next time!

What is coming out of White?  Was Grog right (“When do we get the demons out of this thing?”)?  Who is the imposter Trisha?  Will the party ever be grand enough to join the Hall?  This and more, next time.


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## Rikandur Azebol (Aug 31, 2004)

*Never understimate goblins !*

It seems that Grog were right, it may be demon/devil/bad thing. 
Anyway, quite funny ... and pleasant to read.


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## Droid101 (Aug 31, 2004)

Rikandur Azebol said:
			
		

> It seems that Grog were right, it may be demon/devil/bad thing.
> Anyway, quite funny ... and pleasant to read.



Whew... a response.  I thought I was writing for myself.  

Thanks for chiming in, means a lot to me!


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## Droid101 (Aug 31, 2004)

The blankets burst in a spray of flesh and blood.  The creature that emerged seemed to get taller and taller and taller.  When it finally stood upright and spread its wings (!?), it bolted immediately for the door.

A full 15 feet tall, this monster had rough leathery red skin, two long twisted pointy horns and a mouth full of razor teeth, glistening with green liquid.

Krin and Trisha immediately drew their weapons and approached it, but it merely ducked out of the front door…

…where it ran into Ulgrim’s huge two-handed waraxe.  Brackish blood sprayed out as the monster began to take flight straight up.  Another well placed swing of the axe cut another wound in its leg.  Thinking fast, Bink quickly cast Spider Climb and started up the wall of the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  Ulgrim threw his axe at the creature, striking it once again just before it crested the roof and started flying away.  Bink wasn’t going to let it off so easy.  He got to the roof and saw a small ballista on top, obviously used for defense if need be.  Already loaded, he aimed it at the monster, who was already over 100 feet away, flying at a blistering rate.  Bink aimed and fired! (And after a critical hit!)  The bolt sailed and sailed... and struck the beast in the back, sending it falling down into the forest below.

“I ROCK!” Bink exclaimed as he climbed back down to his party.

“What happened?” Eltharion asked.

“I hit the thing with the ballista at like, 300 yards!  I’m amazing!”  he swung his falchion around proudly.

“Sure…” Ogrim grumbled, as he started off toward the forest, in the direction that Bink had fired.  “Let’s go see if he actually hit anything.”

They headed over, which took a few minutes of walking, but found the location of impact.  An indention in the ground and the black blood coated some nearby trees, but the thing was gone.  The party went back to the Hall to catch up with their mentors, and see what has become of White.  They reached the Hall and saw the cleanup was well underway.  The corpse of White was cleaned and taken away, Krin and Trisha were sitting down on the ground, shaking their heads and pondering their next move.

“Why… who could’ve done this?  What is the reason?” Krin was asking herself more than anybody else.

“If you want answers,” Basil spoke up while scrubbing some blood off the wall, “Enzonito is your man.  He lives out in the forest, in a little shack.  He knows about all kinds of prophecies and magic and that sorta thing.  You should go talk to him.  I’m sure he’ll know something.”

“As good a bet as any,” Bink responds, and the party agrees.  They head out into the forest immediately.  After less than an hour of travel, they see a thin line of smoke in the air, and find the small shack without any trouble.  They approach and Eltharion knocks.

“Who is it?” a muffled, but young sounding voice from within.

“I thought they said he was ‘Ancient’,” Bink reasoned.  “We’re from the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  We want to ask you some questions.”

“Come on in, it’s open,” the voice responds, and the party enters.  “Is that thing yours?”  Enzonito points at the goblin.

“Yes…” Eltharion states flatly.

Enzonito looks like a man in his twenties.  His shack is small and simple, with a cot and a chest; two ornate blades hung on the wall.  One far more ornate blade was strapped to his back.  His dirty brown hair hardly hid his slightly pointed ears.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“We heard you are very wise about this world, and we have some questions about something that just happened.” Bink steps up, thinking himself the leader.

“Sure, go ahead,” Enzonito replies.

“Well, a friend of ours just got a disease.  However, it was no normal disease.  It caused him to get up, walk around and start infecting everyone around him.  About an hour ago, we finally caught up with him.  Some imposter killed him, and a big demon came out of him, and flew off.  The imposter also flew off and got away.  Any ideas?” Bink summarized, knowing fully well that he didn’t know White at all.

“Interesting.  Can you describe the demon?” Enzo asked.

The party does, and this brings a frown to Enzonito’s face.

“That’s no demon, that’s a devil.  A Pit Fiend.  Pretty much the pinnacle of Hell’s society.  And trust me, I’d know.  I’ve been there.  Let me see, I’ve heard of a man birthing a devil, and it worries me.  It’s supposed to start a chain of ascension.  Someone is trying to become a higher power.  The question is, who?” Enzonito isn’t the only one with a troubled look on his face at this point.

“I may not be totally accurate, but you need a whole lot of magical energy to attain this level of power.  After the devil has emerged, I think you need to gather all kinds of magic items to use for power.  And I mean LOTS.  You’ll need boatloads.” Enzo says.

“Great, a guy, with a devil on his team, has tons of powerful magic items.  Sounds like we’re out of our league…” Eltharion says.

“Let’s go tell Ulgrim and the others,” Ogrim offers.

“Good idea.  Thanks for the info, if we need you again, will you be here?” Bink asks.

“More than likely.  Glad I could be of service.” The party leaves, heading back to the Hall.  They arrive and let the other group know of what Enzonito has predicted.

“That aint good.  We’re doin’ somethin’ about it!” Ulgrim says, matter of factly.

“I’ve got an idea.  We’ll follow the devil.  I think I can calculate the direction it was flying from when I saw it last.  You guys try to collect all the magic items you can, to keep _them_ from getting their hands on ‘em.  Hopefully, the devil will lead us to whoever is doing this.” Bink adds.

Krin and Trisha look pessimistic.  Eltharion looks ready.  Ogrim looks grim.  Grog looks confused.  Ulgrim nods in agreement.

“You go, find the bastard.  We’ll be investigating as well.” Ulgrim states.

“Great, let’s do it.” Bink says, and they all say their goodbyes and head out.  Bink, Grog, Ogrim and Eltharion head west along the road to Brunswick castle.  All of them want to visit the place, only Bink has been there.  They figure it’s as good a place as any to start the investigation before turning north along the path the devil took.

They take the one and a half day journey on horseback.  Lightly forested along the road, the trip is mostly uneventful.  Grog seems more and more mystified about Bink.  He also seems more and more angry about his burnt battleaxe.  Oh well, it’ll have to do for now.

The castle-town of Brunswick can be seen from quite a distance; the walls very large and beautifully crafted; obviously the aesthetics were taken into account, not just defense.  Several miles across, the city was in a circular shape, surrounded entirely by the huge wall, and the wall surrounded by a very large moat.  A large, wide stone bridge is the only access to the wall’s gate.  They cross it tentatively, Bink leading the way.  Trakker, Grog’s dire wolf, almost the length of the horses, seems calm and at ease.

They reach the gate, and a guard calls down from atop a small guard tower adjacent to the wall.

“Business in Brunswick?”

“Travelers passing through!” Bink calls up at them, knowing that to be just about the best answer for getting them in quickly.

“Mind your business, enjoy your stay.” The iron portcullis begins to rise and the Heroes find themselves in the bustling and beautiful Brunswick.  The architecture and stonemasonry are top notch.  All the buildings are with a light colored stone, sometimes whitewashed to give everything an almost ethereal and divine quality.  Long pointed tops seem to be the style.

“Impressive work.  Dwarves must’ve pitched in,” Ogrim pipes up.

“No, look at the elegance of the minarets, it is obviously elven-inspired,” Eltharion counters.

Everyone looks at Grog to offer how it is similar to goblin construction, but then they shake their heads and leave their mounts at the stable.  A few extra coins are needed to take in the wolf Trakker.

They head to a local bar.  Ogrim needed some strong drink, and so he found it.  Strong dwarvish ale filled the mugs, and soon the bar was filled with happy patrons.  Grog seemed particularly pleased with this fine drink.  Grog liked Ogrim.

A particular group of individuals was sitting at one table away from everyone else.  A bunch of guys in black robes with a symbol over the left breast.  The symbol was an open palm with an eye in it.  Bink thought he should investigate further.  He approached the table with a couple of extra drinks.

“How’s everybody tonight!  Want some drinks?” he offered them to the robed individuals.  They nodded and drank.  He sat and chit-chatted away with them, drunkening them up.

“Hey, you’re all right Bank.”

“It’s Bink.  Right anyway, so what’s with the robes?” Bink questioned.

“We just joined a cult.  Meeting’s in 30 minutes.  Wanna come?  You’re all right!”

“You mentioned that.  Sure, we’ll tag along, see how it is.”  Bink went back to his allies.  “We’re joining a cult.”

“What!” Ogrim spat out some ale; the disappointment in his eyes apparent at the wasted drink.  “We aint joining no cult.”

“We’re not really joining, just going in undercover.  I feel like investigating,” Bink reasons.

“Fine, but you better not get us in any trouble,” Ogrim states.

The robed gentlemen come over to Bink and motion him to follow.  All four of the Heroes leave the bar and head into an alleyway.  After a few more alleys, streets crossed, and backtracking, they arrive at what looks like an abandoned church.  The windows and doors are boarded up, but one of the cultists easily lifts a board from the door and they shimmy on in.  Behind the altar is a staircase, which they decent.  They reach a doorway, with a coat rack next to it.  It has a bunch of multi-sized robes on it.

“Take a robe, each of you.  Can’t come in without proper attire,” they warily don the robes and enter a larger room, albeit disappointing.  No raving lunatics.  No eerie chanting.  Just a bunch of chairs lined up, cultists listening to a normal looking guy give a speech behind a podium.  They sit in the back and listen.

“We, at the church of Iyactu Xvim, are about chaos!  Create disorder!  If you have a rock, throw it at someone’s head.  If you see a door, break it open!  Run amok!  This is how we can give our master time to ascend to true Godhood.  Then, and only then, will we be granted true divine miracles that we will ALL be able to manifest!  What say you!”

The group of about 18 to 20 people cheer; though not the most enthusiastic cheer ever.

“That’ll be it for this week.  Next week, I’ll begin showing you the fundamentals of spellcasting, as we’ll all be granted with power soon, we should know how to use it.”

Everybody gets up and begins to leave.  Bink and the others approach the speaker.

“So, when we attaining these powers?” Bink asks without hesitation.

“Oh, our time shall be soon.  No more than a month, I can assure you.” The elderly man responds, his speech slowed slightly due to his advanced age.

“And how is our patron ascending, anyway?” Bink, once again, without hesitation.

“I see you have many questions, young man.  Please, join me at my home later tonight, I would be glad to go over everything in detail with you.  I live on the corner of Gold Dragon Street.  Please.  My name is Zhentil.  And yours?”

“I’m Joey.  These are my good friends Zack, Greg, and Jeremiah,” the last name said with a slight hesitation, when pointing at Grog.

“Good, I’ll be looking forward to meeting you.”

Zhentil makes his way out.  The Heroes go out afterward, tracking down one of the other cultists that they talked to earlier.

“Hey, what else do you know about this cult?” Eltharion asks sternly.

“Our God is ascending, we’ll get power soon.  What else do you want?” he responds.

A rock hits Ogrim in the back of the head.  Spinning around to see the perpetrator, they see another Xvim cultist, who runs off down an alley.  When they turn back to the one they were speaking to, they see he has run off also.  Eltharion starts after him.

“Let him go…” Ogrim grabs Eltharion by the arm.  “There’ll be another time.”

“Fine, but I’m not going to be pleasant the next time we meet.”

“Hey let’s go find Drek and Johnathan.  I’m sure they made it by now.” Bink says.  “Plus, we have some stuff to talk over.  Do we want to go meet this Zhentil guy?  Seems a little too convenient.  Plus, seems like the mystery is solved.  Xvim is ascending, and we just found out how, from our good friend Enzonito.  I think we have enough information to go after the devil and find this guy and put a stop to him.”

“Hm…” Eltharion and Ogrim are in deep thought.  “Let’s get some rest…”  They retreat to the inn, and take the rest of the night off, thinking about the possibilities…

The Trisha imposter is still missing!  Why are the cultists so easygoing?  Can they stop Xvim before he ascends?  Will they be hit by _Magical Stones _ next time?  All this, and more, next update.


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## Droid101 (Sep 1, 2004)

“So, the supposedly strict and edict-following Xvim is encouraging chaos?” Eltharion asks comtemplatively.

“Doesn’t seem right.  Maybe the cultists are just whacky.” Bink reasons.  “But with that devil involved, I would have to assume that there is some kind of order…”

“Who cares.  Go check on Johnathan and Drek, will you?” Ogrim motions to Grog, who furrows a brow and walks across the hall of the inn to Drek and Johnathan’s room, which they finally tracked down.  Grog comes back with a slightly pale look.

“I think Drek is gone.  Johnathan doesn’t seem to far behind,” Grog looks squeamish.

“Xvim will pay.  Him, and his cultists.  We’ll make them pay,” Ogrim’s statement brings a nod from all the others.

They rest for the remainder of the evening.  In the morning, checking on Drek and Johnathan brings a new set of turned stomachs from the group.  They find directions to the morgue and let them know of a couple of bodies that need to be picked up.  They pick up some supplies and weapons.  Bink picks up a falchion he had commissioned to be made before he met the others.  The blade was made of crackling white energy.  Eltharion got a new set of weapons; a scimitar and a sickle.  The party passes through the walled-off richer area to get to the northern exit of the city.  A light drizzle fills the air; one that hasn’t really stopped since they visited Canticus.  And so they’ll visit it again, as the northern road leads directly through Canticus, and beyond to the smallish trade towns of Gelvain and Tomaru.

They pass through Canticus, more of the buildings have collapsed.  This time they see no signs of anyone.  They take refuge in one of the buildings and rest for the evening.

“If the town was full of Xvim cultists, why would they all vanish?” Eltharion asks.

“Good question.  Zhentil didn’t mention anything about personal sacrifice.  He didn’t mention having to do _anything_, really.” Bink responds.

“Time to sleep, chatterboxes,” Ogrim was always to the point.  He took a last bite of salted pork, a swig of water and drifted to sleep; snoring loudly of course.

In the morning, it was still drizzling as they set out on the northern road out of town.

“Is this damn rain ever gonna stop?” Ogrim asked.

They continued north, and gradually the rain did die down a bit.  It was merely overcast by mid day.  Up ahead, they saw something strange.  Two covered wagons stopped in the middle of the road, and four large hulking figures striking them.  They all dismounted and ran forward, seeing the figures to be about 10 feet tall.  Two of them had much of their flesh left, but clearly rotted and obviously undead.  The other four were devoid of all flesh, skeletons only remaining.  After a quick and dirty fight (Grog’s axe is clearly falling apart from the burns) they stood victorious.  Seems like all the people who owned the wagons had already run off, and from Eltharion’s estimations, toward the town to the north, Gelvain.  The horses were also gone.  

The party wasted no time.  Eltharion began to back track the steps of the large undead, leading to the east, off the road.  They followed immediately on their mounts.  After about an hour’s ride, they reached a small hill with a rocky outcropping.  A bit of searching revealed a small cave.  They dismounted and entered.  A twenty foot wide passage smelled of death, decay, and rotting flesh.

“Pleasant,” Ogrim noted.

The passage turned and opened into a large chamber, almost 100 feet long.  A hole in the ceiling provided some (but not too much) light to the chamber.  Standing directly under the hole was a man, about six feet tall, pale with black dreadlocks.  His robes were flowing and his staff had a skull atop it with two glowing rubies as eyes.  Almost immediately, this man began to slowly chant and wave his staff, and looking back at the floor, the Heroes noted a few corpses slowly stirring.  They burst into action.

“Ogrim, get the mage, he’s summoning something!” Bink exclaimed as he worded his own spell, granting him the ability to climb the walls like a spider.  Eltharion charged toward a human-sized zombie that had gotten up near him, and sliced it with scimitar/sickle combination.  The slashes were both deep hits, but the zombie didn’t fall.  Ogrim charged the wizard, who was raised up on a 15 foot high edge in the cavern, which would need to be climbed.  He started, but made slow progress, his heavy chain armor slowing him down considerably.

The spell was completed, and a blobby mass of flesh appeared right next to Bink, and it immediately lashed out with a fleshy appendage.  The blow landed soundly, and Bink winced at the bruise.

A larger, much, much larger zombie began to get up.  At least 18 feet tall, this thing was massive.  Grog took that as his cue; his eyes glazed over red and bloodshot, his muscles bulged and a light froth began to stream from his mouth.  He raised his battleaxe and charged the giant zombie.  A solid hit landed on the thing’s knee, but not serious enough to fell it.

“You disgusting…” Bink finished his sentence with a slash from his falchion of pure energy.  The blade cut easily into the blob, but it remained standing (blobbing?).  The dreadlocked wizard began to cast the same spell, this time his eyes were settling over toward Eltharion.  Ogrim continued up the small cliff.  The giant zombie pummeled Grog, who hardly noticed, laying in hit after hit on the things legs, tearing the rotting flesh from the bones; and cracking those!  The stout creature remained standing.

Another slash from Bink’s brilliant blade sent the fleshy creature out of existence.  Almost simultaneously, a reddish human-torso, snake bodied creature appeared next to Eltharion, who had just finished off the zombie standing next to him.  His gaze turned to the thing, which slashed violently and cut Eltharion on the arm.

Ogrim reached the top and charged.  His axe blade was coming down at the wizard’s head, and a look of glee mounted on Ogrim’s lips.  It passed right through, the image of the wizard shifting slightly.

“Damn wizards!”

“Damn _you_…” the spellcaster said, as he cast a new spell; his finger surrounded by dark, evil, necromantic energies.  He touched Ogrim who felt as if his life force was being sucked from his body.  The mage seemed to grow in strength.  Not good.

Bink climbed a nearby wall and fired a few magic missiles into the salamander, and Eltharion finished it off with two expert cuts, one across the neck and one stab into the stomach.  The creature vanished.  Grog was bruised and battered all over, and the giant zombie’s legs were practically bare, when it finally stumbled and fell.  Grog had to jump out of the way to avoid being smashed.  His eyes had faded from their red color and he was panting heavily.  He pushed on, however, climbing the wall and running toward the wizard.  

After two green missiles slammed into him, an axe from the dwarf finally landing a hit on his displaced form, and an angry looking goblin with a burnt axe charging, the wizard felt as if he had enough.  While still dodging, he cast yet another spell, and flew directly up out of the hole and out of the fight.  The day was won…

Grog collapsed, dead tired.  Ogrim tended to his own wounds while Eltharion used his nature-granted powers and healed Grog.  Toward the back of the cavern, after a little inspection, was a pouch, an amulet, and a long wooden case.  Under a bed in the corner were two books.

“Oh baby…” Bink picked up the books and leafed through them hastily. “Man, this is great.  Now I can write some of my spells down.”

“I thought sorcerers manifested their powers without spellbooks,” Eltharion questioned.

“Yeah yeah.  I’m keeping them anyway.” Bink responded.  He wiggled his fingers and cast a spell.  “Looks like the amulet is magical.  Nice.  I’ll carry it.”

“Now let’s not get carried away, none of this stuff has been given to anyone yet.  Let’s just figure out…” Ogrim is stopped, mid-sentence.

“This is great…” Grog says slowly; he had already opened the wooden case.  Inside was a beautifully crafted katana, with a silk laden hilt and tie, to keep attached to the wrist.  Grog picked it up immediately and began to swing it, a bit clumsily due to his smaller size.  “Perfect replacement.”  He threw his axe down and attached the katana sheath to his back.

“I guess something has been claimed,” Eltharion observed.  “Let’s get to Gelvain.”  

The pouch had 100 platinum pieces, and they found two potions as well.  They gathered everything, left the cave, mounted, and rode back to the trail.  They followed it for the rest of the day, reaching the small town of Gelvain before nightfall.  It was much smaller than Canticus; yet another stop for traders, it seemed.  They headed for the inn/tavern, which was quite busy.  “The Bruised Bullywug” was the name.  They opted not to drink.  They got rooms and went to sleep.  A hard day’s night…

Was the dreadlock mage a Xvim member?  Why did he forget his spellbooks?  Will Grog learn the way of the samurai?  This and more… next time!


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## threshel (Sep 2, 2004)

I like it.  
More, please.
J


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## Droid101 (Sep 2, 2004)

threshel said:
			
		

> I like it.
> More, please.
> J



As you wish...   

The next morning, the Heroes went downstairs for some breakfast.  They felt they deserved a little indulgence, as their pocketbooks had swelled considerably.  They ate well. 

Sitting at another table was a group of Xvim cultists, wearing their trademark unhooded robes with the open hand symbol.  Bink approached them.

“Good morning.  What say you?” Bink pulled a corner of the Xvim robe he had kept in his backpack out, so they could see it.

“Ah, how are you?  Where you from?” 

“Brunswick.  What’s the good word?” Bink responded.

“Oh, you must’ve passed through the homebase.  Good.  Hope things are well.”

“Right, yeah, things are going good.” Bink’s mind was racing at what they could have meant by ‘Home Base.’  “So anyway, anything going on around here?  I’m kinda new.”

“Things are moving along!  How new are you?” the man’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I uh, joined two days ago.  I met Zhentil.” Bink responded, hoping he wouldn’t get shut out.

“Wow, you met Xvim’s closest personal bodyguard!  That’s amazing!  You know what I’ve heard?  I’ve heard that he’s in the process of…” he leans in closer, whispering. “…of becoming a lich!  Outrageously powerful, I hear!”

“Wow, that is… wonderful,” Bink did great to hide his obvious horror.  “Who else should I be on the lookout for?”

“Well,” the man continues, “there are four generals who are under Zhentil in the power chain.  You should be respectful to any of them.”

“What do they look like, so I know to be prepared to offer my services?” Bink lied.

“Well, there’s Damaré; he has a shaved head and usually walks around with no shirt.  He has tattoos of writing black lines over his torso and head, and carries a chain-weapon.  He has a tattoo of the open hand symbol on his chest as well.  Trek-Donal is medium height and build, with long spiky black hair.  He wears a tank top and a sash most of the time.  He carries no weapons.  Senman has brown hair pulled back into a pony tail.  He wears a vest with a bunch of small throwing knives.  He’s a bullseye shot with ‘em!  The Necromancer is a tall, thin fellow, sort of pale.  He has dreadlocks and a dead drow skull on top of a staff he carries.” The man finishes, looking proud to his mates.

“His name is ‘The Necromancer?’,” Bink asks.

“Yes, he’s terribly mysterious,” the man answers.

“Well, thanks.  I’m going to be heading into town now,” Bink replies, gives them a bow and wanders back to his table.  “Let’s go.”

The Heroes exit the building and head to the market to freshen their supplies and see the small town.

“So, I guess we already met the Necromancer guy.” Bink says, after explaining what he had heard to his friends.

“That’s a pretty stupid name.” Eltharion reasons.

“Bastard got away…” Ogrim grumbles.  “Moradin help us if we run into all four of them.”

Grog was content to swinging his newly-acquire katana around.  Bink had to stop him as a few people nearby were getting nervous.  They bought a pearl for Bink to identify the amulet, which turned out to be an amulet which bolstered attempts to turn the undead.  It was given to Ogrim.  They headed back to the Bruised Bullywug that evening to get some drinks and some rest.  They got something else.

They were sitting at the bar when Damaré entered.  His long spiked chain clanking against his finely crafted bracers as he walked.  He approached the bar.

“I have been given an order to kill you.  All four of you.  Tomorrow, at noon, meet me in the street.  I shall end your lives.” That is all he said, before turning to leave.

“What was that?” Eltharion and the others pretty much ignored him.  They drank.

Two stout dwarves struck up a conversation with Ogrim.  They were of the Silverhammer clan.  One looked to be a grizzled warrior, the other wore robes, and had small hammers tattooed on the tops of his hands, the symbol of the house.

“How’d ye like tah help a fellow dwarf out?” one of them asked Ogrim.

“Sure thing.” Ogrim responded.

“Well, one of our wagons was stolen this mornin’.  We aint too good at trackin’; you and yer friends seem pretty well off, maybe you’d have better luck than us?”

“We’ll give it our best, but wait til morning.  Now, let’s have another round of drinks.  On me!” Ogrim piped up, and the people sitting at the bar cheered.  Drinks went around and the night was merry.

The next morning, they got the info from the Silverhammer dwarves as to where their wagon was last seen.  Eltharion, with help from Grog and Trakker easily followed the trail of the wagon out into the woods to the west of town.  About two hours of tracking in the drizzling rain, and ahead in the distance they could see it.  A large covered wagon, sitting nestled behind some brush, but not nearly enough to keep it hidden.

“Let’s charge!” Grog said, readying his katana.  A comical sight; the blade was obviously built for a human.  His goblin form seemingly like a child who found his father’s weapon.

Bink placed a hand on his shoulder, his words always so calming.  “Wait, we need a plan.  We don’t even know who or what is in that wagon.”

“True enough.  Eltharion, you sneak forward and give us a signal if you want us to charge.” Ogrim stated.

“Sounds good.” And Eltharion was off.  He readied his scimitar and sickle, approaching slowly.  He hopped silently behind the brush, behind a tree, approaching with caution.  He got in a good position and peered into the wagon.  He saw two men wearing Xvim robes (!), talking quietly.  Eltharion gave the signal to charge.  And so they did.

Eltharion was on the wagon almost instantly, stabbing from outside through the cloth material with his scimitar.  He felt it sink into flesh.  The two men emerged with two-handed flails, scowling and looking for the person who stabbed them.  Bad timing.  Grog, running faster and ahead of Ogrim and Bink, charged straight into one of them.  His eyes bloodshot and the froth spraying as he sent his katana in an overhead arc, slicing down through the haft of the flail and into the man’s face and chest.  He fell instantly.  Grog let out a guttural roar, sending more spittle around.

Bink fired off a couple of greenish energy magic missiles, and Ogrim arrived, threatening the flailing cultist.  The cultist swung and clanged his flail against Ogrim’s well-placed shield.  Eltharion came in from behind and sliced him across the back.  Grog closed in, but his swings of the katana don’t land as the man bats them away with his flail.  Bink finally gets close enough, and draws his brilliant energy falchion.  Ogrim chops low at the man’s leg with his Orc-Killer axe, grazing it slightly.  Eltharion then finished him, with a one-two slash-stab with his scimitar-sickle.  They cleaned their blades and started driving the wagon back to town.  The drizzle was very light, and let up as they rode back.  The sun almost poked through the clouds.

They got back around 11 o’clock, and headed to where the Silverhammer dwarves were staying.

“Nice work boys!  Our wagon!” the robed dwarf jumped in and looked around.  “Hey, some of this stuff aint ours.  You can keep it as pay.”

“Thank you!” Ogrim said, as he took a couple of the small boxes and a medium sized case that the dwarves pointed out.  They found some gold, silver, and a few gems.  In the case was a sickle; finely crafted and spotless.  Eltharion grabbed it, and when he did, he heard a whisper in his ear: “Polymorph…”  Interesting.

They took their items and headed back to the Bruised Bullywug.  As they were entering, they saw Damaré standing in the middle of the street with a blonde Xvim cultist standing next to him.

“So, you are ready to fight, then?” Damaré asked evenly.

They ignored him and walked into the inn, and put their stuff in their room.  They came downstairs and sat at the bar, having a drink to their small victory over the flailing cult members.  A yell can be heard from the street.

“Come out you cowards!”

“Ugh, won’t that loser give up?” Bink was shaking his head.

“Let’s just get going north.  We gotta catch up to that devil.” Eltharion reasoned.

“Sounds good to me.” Grog responded.  They got their things from their room and checked out.  They walked out of the Bruised Bullywug and immediately turned toward the stable.  Damaré was still in the middle of the road.

“Stop, I declare this fair fight started.  Defend yourselves!” Damaré began a lethal dance.  He flipped his chain around his neck, then down under his legs, jumping and moving fluidly around it.  The Heroes looked at each other and rolled their eyes.  With a flick of the wrist, Bink sent a few magic missiles sailing towards Damaré.  They struck him and he immediately charged.

He swung the chain and tripped Eltharion, who landed flat on his back.  The other end flipped over and sliced him across the arm in one swift motion.  Ogrim drew his axe and shield, and charged forward, taking a whip of the chain across the shoulder for his efforts.  His axe blade flew wide as Damaré deftly dodged.  Bink backed off, firing another couple of missiles.  Grog charged as well, taking the weight on the end of the chain to the face.  Slightly dazed, he swung his katana wide.  His brow furrowed and grip tightened.  He was feeling a little enraged…

Eltharion hopped up and approached Damaré, his scimitar and new sickle ready.  Damaré took a step backward, and his cultist follower took out a pouch and sprinkled some dust on him.  Damaré faded from view, an evil sneer on his face as he did.  An invisible chain then tripped and struck Grog and Eltharion, both fell prone and took a slash across the chest and leg respectively.  Ogrim’s brow furrowed as he took a step and slashed down with his axe, practically chopping the still-visible cultist in half.

“I knew we should’ve gone for that guy first.  The weakling is always the one who wins the fight,” Eltharion was struggling to his feet.

The slight drizzle made it extremely difficult to pinpoint the location of the invisible Damaré, but they tried anyway.  Eltharion moved forward to where he last saw him, barely jumping as the invisible chain scratched the ground, going for the trip.  Eltharion swung and connected with his scimitar!  An injured grunt issued, and the chains again fell silent.  Ogrim approached and was summarily tripped and struck upside the head with the chain.  Grog hopped up and charged to a new location, as it seemed that Ogrim fell down at a strange angle.  He got a chain around the arm bringing him to the ground face first, and scraping off the skin as it retracted for his efforts.

Bink drew his falchion and charged also, feeling the wind of the chain fly right next to and narrowly miss him.  He slashed out with his blade, but connected with nothing.

“Damn this bastard!” Bink exclaimed.

Eltharion charged up next to Bink, also barely dodging an invisible chain whip to the leg.  This time, he swung out with his sickle, and success!  He felt it dig in, and mentally he said _Turn him into a chair!_.  The blade obliged…

However, Damaré seemed to resist the effect, as they could hear his footsteps running away from them.  They opted not to follow.

“What a… argh!” Eltharion kicked the corpse of the cultist.  They searched his body but found nothing else other than a small flail.  Grog collapsed from exhaustion, and Eltharion went around and healed everybody who needed it.

“Let’s get going north,” Ogrim stated.

They went to the stable to retrieve their mounts, and headed quickly north.  The next town, Tomaru, would be reached in another day of riding.  They got there late that night.  Tomaru was a much larger town than the previous ones.  Just on the outskirts of the heavy trade region of Four-Towns, the town was bustling.  The Heroes didn’t know anything about it, however.

They stabled their mounts and headed for the closest tavern.  They found one called the “Quiet Chimera.”  Just outside, however, a group of ruffians was loitering.

“You’re new around here.  Got any cash?” one of them asked the group.

“No.  Get out of our way, or else,” Bink said, matter-of-factly.  Odds were nine to four.

The thugs drew their blades; some of them had shortswords and some daggers.  They began to slowly surround the Heroes.  Bink quickly fired off an acid arrow and it began to burn off the face of the thug who had done the talking.  He fell.  Grog charged another one and struck him down with a stab directly into the lung.  Two surrounded him, however, and with two excellently placed cuts, Grog was on one knee, blood spurting out of him at odd angles.

A form jumped off a nearby roof and flung several small throwing knives into the fray; several meaning nine (?!).  Three thugs met three knives apiece, all of them striking the neck, face, chest or groin.  They all fell, blood pouring out of their deep wounds.  Eltharion took the cue and turned the tide of the battle by destroying another thug with a few cuts from his sickle and scimitar.  The battle ended quickly after that.

The Heroes sheathed their weapons and looked to the man who had jumped off the roof.  He had brown hair, pulled back into a pony tail.  He was wearing a vest with small knives, along with a sash.  It was Senman, the Xvim general they had heard about before!

“Er, thanks?” Bink sputtered.

Will Senman finish off the Heroes?  Would Damaré be better off as a chair?  Where is Xvim!?  These and other pressing questions will be answered, next update!


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## Droid101 (Sep 2, 2004)

A quick aside:

A big thank you to those of you who are reading.  I know it's not the most interesting stuff in the world right off, but everything builds, and it gets a lot more fun later.  Especially if you've read and know who is who.

So again, thank you!


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## Droid101 (Sep 2, 2004)

“You’re quite welcome.  Quick, come inside before anybody sees us,” Senman replies, his face not angry, mean, or otherwise hostile.  They follow him into the Quiet Chimera.  They get a table in the corner.

“You had better keep a low profile while here in town.  There’s quite a lot going on that you might get swept up in,” Senman started.  “Excuse me, I’m Senman, by the way.  From the look of it, you’ve heard of me.”

“Yes, we have.  And why, exactly, is it that you’re not killing us right now?” Bink asked, matter-of-factly.

“Well, let me explain.  First off, we, as in the four generals; Damaré, The Necromancer, Trek-Donal and myself, don’t care about Xvim ascending.  We don’t care about the rules of his order.  We don’t care about the cult.  We care about the money.  You follow me?” Senman explains.

“I think so.” Bink responds.

“Not money exactly.  He pays us in magical gear and power, essentially.  Problem is, when he ascends, I have a nagging feeling that he’s going to want the items back, since he needs a ton of items to power this ascension.” Senman goes on.

“Yeah, we’ve heard that much,” Eltharion says.

“So, I don’t know, no real reason to care too much about what he wants, just as long as we stay in line.  He recently gave the order to kill you four.  The message exactly was ‘If you run into the human, elf, dwarf and goblin, do away with them as quickly as possible.’  So you’ve obviously gotten his attention.”

“Wonderful,” the party groans.

“But don’t worry, I’ll just say I never ran into you.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yes, politics.  Like I said, you’ll want to keep yourself out of plain view if at all possible.  Once it gets on that some newcomers have arrived in town, things will get bad.” Senman states.

“What about those thugs we killed outside?  Isn’t that going to draw attention?” Bink asks.

“Most definitely.  Those men belonged to the merchant guild House Helfrieg.  There are four other main guilds as well.  The Shendal Merchants, House Sheyrya, House Mestlani, and Condral.  Interchanging alliances and such… I don’t want to go into it.  There’s a few guilds of rogues as well.  The Black Hand is led by Dendybar Retari.  He’s probably the most skilled assassin on the continent of Aldor-Valencia.  The Jezzaili are a group of rat-men, called Skaven, that live in the sewers.  They are purveyors of information.  The newest is the group called Grendle.  Nobody has ever seen their leader.  Very mysterious.  All the members of this group seem to be of different monstrous races.  Minotaurs, orcs, and the like.  They have taken a particular interest in the leader of the Shendal Merchants.  Still don’t know why, however.  The Grendle members are seen around the graveyard a lot, for some reason.” Senman pauses, taking a long breath.

“That’s… quite a bit of information.  Why are you helping us?” Bink asks.

“Why not?  I’ve got connections, and you look like you need help.”  Senman replied.

“But we’re trying to stop your leader from ascending,” Ogrim interjects.

“True, but like I said, I hold no ties to him.  If you succeed, so be it.  I’ll move on, all the richer.  I can’t tell you to not defend yourselves, but try not to kill the other three guys, if possible?  They’re my friends.  I understand if you have no choice, however.”

“Great… morality.” Bink rolls his eyes.

“Last couple of tidbits before I have to go.  The devil that was summoned through that White character, his name is Gryrtag, in case you want to look into him.  The leader of the Jezzaili, the rat-people, his name is Flitz.  One last thing, magic is illegal here.  I’m surprised nobody showed up when you threw that magic acid arrow.  Whenever you’re outside, refrain from spellcasting, or you might get picked up.  Some wizard group, the Shrouded Wizards, constantly watches the town through scrying devices.  If you cast a spell, they’ll show up and detain you.  Be careful!” Senman gets up, nods, and heads out.

The Heroes sit for a moment, not really in thought, but almost exhausted from all the information they’ve just received.

“Drink please,” Grog asks a nearby barmaid.  After Bink properly asks for drinks for everyone, they get a round and ponder.

“What’s our best course of action, you think?” Bink asks the group.

“Grendle sounds interesting, I wonder if they want Xvim dead.” Eltharion reasons.

“Sounds like they’re interested in the leader of the Shendal Merchants for some reason.” Bink replies.

“Distractions… we should just search for Xvim and this, Gryrtag devil.” Ogrim states.

“When are we gonna run into the last general, Trek?” Grog asks.

“True, we need to be on our guard.”  Bink responds.  “Hey, I’ve got a good idea, let’s try to get in touch with Flitz, the leader of the Jezzaili.  If they live in the sewers, then they’re probably pretty good at keeping a low profile.  Maybe they can house us while we’re here?”

“Wow, that’s a great idea.  Good thinking Bink,” Eltharion pats him on the back.

“Sewers… not quite far enough underground for my liking.  A bit smelly too.” Ogrim shakes his head.

“All right, let’s get going.  We’ll find a sewer access, and go down, see what we can find.” Bink says.  They finish their drinks, stand, and go outside.  The bodies are still there, with a small crowd having since gathered to look at them.  The Heroes slip out and into a nearby alley to avoid questioning…

…bad move.  At the other end of the alley, a man comes sprinting at them before they can react.  He’s running fast, too fast, and slams Ogrim squarely in the face before they can even react.  Ogrim feels his nose crackle as the fist comes in again and again, slamming him in the side of the head, and finally a spinning kick to the gut.  The man was medium height and build, but with black hair standing straight up, almost six inches long.

Grog pulls his katana and rushes the man, slicing into him hard, drawing a spray of blood from the flank.  The man grimaces hard at the deep wound, looking around.  Ogrim readies his weapons and strikes, missing due to a well placed parry.  Bink fires a few magic missiles which all strike home, and Eltharion maneuvers into position.  The man looks around, things having turned sour fast, and leaps up on top of the adjacent building – a good 15 feet straight up!  Eltharion and Grog are quick to climb after him.  Ogrim calls the power of Moradin and heals his broken nose, while Bink feels a hand on his shoulder.

A red robed man, his face concealed by a dark hood, is standing behind him.

“Spellcasting is illegal here in Tomaru.  Are you aware?” the hooded man asks.

“Oh, uh, I’m new here, I didn’t know,” Bink lies.

“Consider this your warning.  If you are caught spellcasting again, you will be brought on charges, and your components confiscated.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.” Bink manages, as the red robed man disappears from view.

On the roof, things aren’t faring well at all.  The man is almost out of sight, jumping from building to building at lightning quick speed, by the time Grog and Eltharion are atop the first building.  They climb down slowly.

“That must have been Trek-Donal.  Spiky black hair, fits the description.” Bink says.

“Who cares, let’s get underground already.” Eltharion demands, and they search a few alleys for a sewer access.  They finally find one, and climb down.

It is pitch black down there, but a light spell from Bink quickly changes that.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Ogrim asks.

“They can’t see underground… I hope.” Bink responds reluctantly.

The party looks down the tunnel, but doesn’t see anything.  After about 30 seconds, they hear footsteps running toward them… 

Is it a skaven, or something worse?  Is Bink going to prison?  Why is Senman such a nice guy?  Do the sewers smell worse than Grog’s breath?  This and more… next update!


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## Droid101 (Sep 3, 2004)

Out of the darkness comes a five foot tall rat, or man, or rat man?  It’s a skaven; the party lowers their weapons and nerves as they see it approach unarmed and apparently not hostile.  

“Ho there, you know you enter the realm of the Jezzaili?” the rat man talked, a squeaking to his voice.  His clothing slightly tattered.

“Yes, we have come for council, and possibly refuge.” Bink responds.  This gets a discerning look from the rat.  He motions.

“Come this way, you shall meet Flitz, our leader.” The rat begins to run down the tunnel, the Heroes keeping pace behind him.  After a few twists and turns, and a few gags from Eltharion, they reach a hole in the wall.  Bink and Eltharion have to duck slightly to enter, and they are led to a small room, with other passageways leading out.  There is a desk and another skaven sitting behind it.  He looks much older than the one leading them.

“Welcome allies.  I am Flitz.  You are new to town?” the slightly aged rat asks.

“Yes, we come seeking information and refuge.  We have reasons to believe that people are out to get us, and would like to be safe in our stay here in town.” Bink explains.

“And what information do you seek?” Flitz asks.

“Anything about Xvim.” Bink states.

“And Grendle!” Eltharion adds.

“And any other important goings on of the city…” Ogrim grunts.

Flitz nods.  “In exchange for offering you respite in my tunnels and the information you have requested, you will have to perform a task for my clan.”

“What is this task?” Bink asks.

“You will be presented with a task when the time and necessity is right.  You have free access to anything in the tunnels until then.  May the Horned Rat disease your enemies…” Flitz gets up and heads into one of the offshoot passageways.

The Heroes are led to an extra room by the other Skaven.  It’s moderately sized, but bare.  They leave some of their things and head back to the surface.  They stay cloaked and go to the Quiet Chimera, to maybe find some more information.  As they enter, they see some man come running down the stairs, and bolting for the door.  He’s holding his chin, as if he just got punched or something.  He has a black hat, cloak, and goatee.  He pushes past the Heroes and leaves.  

“Rude…” Eltharion mouths.  The bar/inn owner looks a bit confused, and heads on upstairs.  The party follows.  Upstairs there is a bit of blood on the floor, and one of the doors to a room is open.  Inside is a dead body… recently killed.  The pool of blood on the floor is already huge.

“Oh man, assassination.” Bink says.  The barkeeper runs out to get the guards.  The Heroes do a little investigation.  On closer inspection, the body isn’t human.  It’s a Mul; a rare cross-breed of human and dwarf.  More muscular and stout than a normal human, completely devoid of hair, and incapable of producing it’s own offspring.  Most die in their human or dwarven mother’s womb due to their odd size.  He has one stab in his gut, fairly deep.  In his back is another stab, not as deep, but it is evident that the blade was twisted.

“Look how he twisted it… this was definitely revenge.” Bink surmised.  They looked at his hand, and there was some blood and some little black hairs, like stubble having been pulled off someone’s face.

“Looks like this mystery was solved, so let’s go get the man in black.” Ogrim states.

“This isn’t our business, let the guards take care of him.” Eltharion reasons.

The party heads downstairs and approaches the barkeep.

“Who was that man in black, was he staying here?” Bink asked.

“Oh no, he lives here in town.  His name is Dendybar Retari.  Quite a dangerous fellow.”

The Heroes went pale.

“Um, isn’t he the one that Senman said was the most powerful assassin on the continent?” Eltharion blurted.

“Let’s let the city guards deal with this one.” Bink adds.

“Agreed.”

“So… the graveyard then?” Bink asks, as if there was only one answer.

“I guess so.” Eltharion answered.  They headed out of the inn and toward the graveyard, as instructed by the barkeep.  They looked back and saw guards start swarming the building.

“Got out just in time.” Ogrim states.

They travel to the graveyard.  Seems a little dark due to the cloud cover, but not very spooky by any means.  They go inside the gate and walk around the place staying along the fence.  When they reach the end opposite the entrance, they look around a little.

“I don’t see any Grendle members here.  Did Senman say when they met out here?” Eltharion asks.

“I don’t believe so.” Ogrim replies.

“What a waste of time…” Bink states.

While they’re debating what to do next, a raven circles over them, unnoticed.  It swoops in and pecks Bink in the ear.

“Hey you bastard!” Bink feels nauseous and begins to emit an outlandishly bad odor.  He sits down on the ground.  The raven flies away.

“Eck… we can’t go back into town until that wears off…” Eltharion holds back a laugh.

Grog doesn’t.

“Shut up.” Bink sits, rage in his eyes.  After the spell wears off, they head back into town.  They’re called off into an alley by a slightly squeaking voice.

“Come here.”
“Who is it?”
“Jezzaili.”

The party approaches, and sees a skaven, who gives them a piece of paper, then retreats back into the shadows of the alley.  The party unrolls the paper and reads it.  

_Please return to your hideout.  I am ready to call in a favor for the Jezzaili.
						-Flitz_​
“Well, I guess we’re going back.” Bink stated.  They follow the way the rat man came from down the alley, and found an opening to the sewer.  They climbed down.  Once again, after a minute, a skaven comes running up to them and leads them back to the hideout.  Flitz is sitting behind the desk.

“Thank you for returning with such haste.  The favor I wish to ask of you is this: kill Drolf Gritz, leader of the Shendal Merchants.”

Will the Heroes stoop to assassination? What happens if they say no?  Will Bink find a new friend?  This and more compelling story, next time…


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## Droid101 (Sep 3, 2004)

“You want us to kill some guy we don’t even know?” Bink asks incredulously.

“I don’t know about this…” Ogrim states.

“No, you don’t know him.  But let me assure you, he is an evil man.  He backstabs members of his own merchant clan to further his own greed.  You would be ridding the world of rubbish.” Flitz explains.

“Hm.  If we refuse?” Bink questions.

“Then we will have no choice but to expel you from your refuge here, and inform House Helfrieg and the local Xvim cultists of your whereabouts.  As was our bargain.” Flitz didn’t blink.

“Then you leave us no choice.  Tell us how to get to the Shendal Merchants’ headquarters.” Bink replies.

Flitz gives them directions to a basement entry from the sewers.

“But first, you must go to the city-wide guild meeting.  There are people watching you, so if they see that you are there, then you’ll have an alibi if need be.  Go there, then retreat back to the sewers and complete your mission.” Flitz gives them a map of the sewers they’ll use and location of the guild meeting.  They rest that night, the guild meeting is the following night.

“I hope we’re doing the right thing,” Eltharion ponders.

“If he’s as bad as Flitz says he is, then we’d probably end up killing him sooner or later anyway.” Bink reasons.

“True enough.” Ogrim ends the conversation.

The following day is spent freshening up and getting some nice clothes for the guild meeting.  They start heading over there a little before it’s supposed to start.  As they’re rounding a corner, they spot someone dropping off the roof, exit the alley, and walk into the guild meeting.  It’s the man in black, Dendybar Retari!  He seemed to have dropped something.  Bink uses his _Mage Hand _ to retrieve the item from where they were, and it is a piece of paper.

“Hey, you dropped thi…” Grog is gagged by the other Heroes.

Bink unrolls the paper and reads it. 

_Assassinations (In order of importance):

Drolf Gritz
Flitz
Madam Sheyrya
Razil

Addendum:
Destroy the four meddlers (goblin, human, elf, dwarf) who just came to town._​
“Yikes.  Let’s keep this and show it to Flitz later.” Bink says.  They head into the guild meeting, stand in the back with the other onlookers and duck out quickly.  The run back to the sewers and follow their map.  After about 30 minutes of twisting, smelly tunnels, they reach a grating that they’re supposed to go through.  Flitz had told them that there would be reduced security while the guild meeting was going on.  The party hoped they were right.  They pushed the grate and jumped into the room.

It was sort of a library/laboratory type of room.  Bookshelves, a large box (table?) in the middle of the room, and some various vials on stands.  Looking at the bookshelf was a grey-haired man that met the description of Drolf Gritz.  He spun to face the Heroes as they entered the room, ran to the box and picked up an amulet and yelled.

“Guards!  We have intruders!!” Three guards could be heard running down the stairs that seemed to lead into the room.  The top of the box in the middle of the room practically burst open, a large, 12 foot tall wood and metal humanoid shape jumped out, interposing itself between Drolf and the Heroes.

“This is reduced security?” Bink asked as he climbed a nearby wall with his _Spider Climb _ spell already active, and fired off a couple of green-glowing energy missiles at Drolf.  He winced at the pain.  The rest of the Heroes readied their weapons and began to charge, when all chaos broke loose.  A tall, skinny, armored orc hopped up out of the sewers from behind them, and began to charge at Drolf too.  One of the Shendal guards transformed into a strange grey skinned creature and stabbed another one of them in the back.  Grog and Eltharion looked at each other, then to Drolf.  They charged in to either side of him, knowing that large guardian couldn’t stop them both.

Everyone felt a ringing in their head; the smell of burning metal filled the air.  The final Shendal guard started to approach Drolf menacingly, his eyes glazed over, from the other side, along with the doppelganger.  The large guardian made short work of him, however, smashing him into the ground.  Drolf stabbed out at the grey-skinned doppelganger with a small knife, scoring a small wound. 

The ringing continued, and Grog’s eyes glossed over.  He approached Eltharion and struck at his leg with his katana.  A deep cut was landed and Eltharion screamed.

“What are you doing!  Get Drolf!  Get him!” Eltharion tried to trip Grog.  No luck.

Ogrim _blessed_ himself and charged the guardian, chopping into it’s leg, leaving a small mark.  

The mental ringing continued, and they witnessed Drolf grasping his neck, falling to his knees.

Bink noticed something… when Drolf grasped his neck, he dropped that amulet he picked up from the box… a quick _Mage Hand _ later, and the magical shield guardian was under his control.  And what fast work it made of Drolf – two fist slams later and he was a mass of broken bones.

Four more forms came running into the room; three dark elves and a black cloaked man – Dendybar.  He saw Drolf lying dead in a heap.

“Looks like my job is done,” with a quick arcane utterance, he disappeared.  The three dark elves didn’t.  They charged into battle, their longswords gleaming and small shields brandished.  Eltharion and Grog were still wrestling on the ground.  The shield guardian had by now pounded the grey skinned doppelganger to mush, and turned to the dark elves.  Suddenly, the mental ringing was gone.  The tall skinny orc and Grog’s eyes returned to normal.  The battle didn’t last long after that.

Three drow versus an orc, goblin, elf, dwarf, human, and 12 foot shield guardian.  The melee was over in a little over 12 seconds.

“I hate drow…” Eltharion stated.

Everyone was panting and tired.  Bink seemed very intrigued by his new toy, and rightfully so.  It imparted its functionality to him.  

“This thing is going to protect me!  All right!”

“What about this guy?” Grog pointed to the skinny orc who had climbed out of the sewers after them.  He was merely sitting in the corner, his greatsword sheathed on his back.

“What’s yer story, orc?” Ogrim asked none too politely.

“No time, bring him with us.  We’re going back to the hideout.” Eltharion took charge.  The orc put up no resistance, just followed them back through the sewers.

“So, now, orc, what’s yer story?” Ogrim reiterated.

“Name’s Jezda.  I uh… I joined this guild.  They were supposed to be my friends.  And they were.  But I don’t know why I joined.  I didn’t want to.  Why would I want to be in a guild?  I’m so confused.” Jezda trailed off.

“Grog, what happened in there?” Eltharion asked, looking down at the location of the nasty katana-cut he received.

“I don’t know, something controlled my mind.” Grog replied.

“Great; there are way too many forces at work here.  We need to get out of this damn city.” Eltharion stated.

“So orc, your mind was controlled into joining some guild?” Ogrim asked.

“I suppose, well, yes.  I mean, some of them were my friends.  I think?  I’m not sure.  What city are we in now?” Jezda was puzzled.  His six-foot-ten frame bending down as they walked through the tunnels.

“Well, you can tag along with us until you get in the way.” Bink puts bluntly.

“Okay, I suppose.”

They head back to their hideout.  The shield guardian waits outside, too large to fit through the small opening.  Inside, on the table is a small pouch.  They take it, and find 50 platinum pieces.  A fine reward.  They get some rest and recuperate.

Are the Heroes too involved in Tomaru politics?  Are they next to be assassinated?  Are they going to get one creature of every race in their party?  All the important issues will be addressed, next update.


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## Br0kyn Sword (Sep 4, 2004)

*Dear Gods and Devils*

Thanks for consuming my time.   I couldn't stop reading once I started and now I'm behind in doing my work!   Well...   This is a really cool story I wish I could have been part of it's adventure.

Hurry up and post more.  HURRY!


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## Droid101 (Sep 5, 2004)

Br0kyn Sword said:
			
		

> Thanks for consuming my time.   I couldn't stop reading once I started and now I'm behind in doing my work!   Well...   This is a really cool story I wish I could have been part of it's adventure.
> 
> Hurry up and post more.  HURRY!



Haha, you live in Southern California? Then maybe you could be!   

But seriously, I only update when I'm at work, so you'll have to wait until Tuesday.  Sorry!    

Glad you like it though, it only gets better as it goes!


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## Droid101 (Sep 7, 2004)

Flitz enters the Heroes’ room.

“You have called for me?” Flitz asks.

“Yes, we found a note that has your name on it,” Bink hands him the assassination list.  Drolf Gritz was dead; Flitz is next in line.

“This is grave news indeed.  Who would want me dead?  Most groups find my intelligence gathering a Godsend…” Flitz looks disturbed.  “At any rate, for your continued refuge, I ask that you passively seek information on who wants me dead.  A good start is the local wizard.  He casts divinations for money.  Take this list to him and he may be able to find out something.”

Flitz gives them directions and they head out immediately.  Bink keeps his new amulet, the one that controls the large golem-like shield guardian, very close to himself.  On the way, when passing through an alleyway (they really should learn to avoid those…) two forms approach.  They are wearing splint armor that is heavily spiked.  They carry spiked shields which bear the Xvim symbol, the open hand with the eye, but it has spikes on it.  They also carry heavy blades.  Their faces are partially hidden by their closed helmets, but they look calm and collected.

“You have stolen certain items that belong to Iyachtu Xvim or his most trusted generals.  Please provide us with the spellbooks belonging to The Necromancer.” They remain motionless, weapon and shield drawn.

“Yeah, right, how about you…” Bink doesn’t have a chance to finish, as Jezda jumps out ahead of him, quickly maneuvers between the spiky soldiers, and spins his greatsword in a whirlwind pattern; his body twisting, and he lands a gruesome hit on each soldier.  They attack.

Each one lands a shield spike into Jezda, his 6’10” frame bending down in pain, blood pouring from fresh wounds.  Grog flies in and stabs one deep in the gut.  Ogrim lets out an overhead chop of his Orc-Killer, piercing the armor and impaling into a shoulder.  Bink holds his tongue and doesn’t cast any spells, rather, draws his brilliant energy falchion and scores a small hit of his own, bringing one soldier down.  Eltharion’s whirling scimitar and sickle end the battle.

“Impressive Jezda,” Eltharion congratulates.

“Just trying to help like you said,” Jezda reasons.

“Keep that up.” Ogrim grunts.  “Maybe you’ll be a good example for the other orc-scum.”

“Don’t worry about him, he just doesn’t like orcs too much.” Bink reassures Jezda, and they continue to the wizard after Eltharion heals everyone injured.

Everyone waits outside the small unmarked doorway except Bink.

“Hello?” the inside is dark and many curtains hang, blocking off view of the entire room.

“Why have you come?” a voice from behind a curtain.

“I heard you cast spells for money.” Bink puts blatantly.

“You heard correctly.  What spell do you wish cast?”

“I have a piece of paper.  I need you to find out everything about it.  Who owned it last, who created it, and why, if possible.” Bink tells.

“What do you have to offer me in exchange for this service?” 

“I have money…”

“800 gold pieces, and knowledge.  Do you have any spells to give?  I would merely copy them and return them.”

“Oh sure, I’ve got tons.” Bink produces the Necromancer’s two spellbooks.  A cloaked form emerges from the curtains and takes hold of the books, leafing through them slowly.  He takes two long steps backward.

“These will do nicely.” The cloaked form throws off his robes, producing a fairly tall, gaunt and pale man with dreadlocks.  “Thank you.”  A one-syllable arcane utterance, and he is gone.

“You mo… you damned… argh!” Bink storms out.  “When we find these generals, I don’t care what we told Senman, we’re killing that Necromancer.”

“What happened?” Ogrim asks.

“The wizard was the Necromancer in disguise.  He stole his spellbooks back.” Bink summarizes.

“We’ll get ‘em…” Eltharion plots.

They head back to their underground hidey-hole and await Flitz’s return.  When he does, he has news.

“Listen, something has happened that I wish you to check out.  I have reason to believe that House Mestlani is the one out to kill me.  A while back, the sewer entrance to their compound was sealed off, most likely by magic too powerful for a Trade House to conjure up.  Today, my scouts report that the seal is gone, and there is access to the House’s underground entryway.  Please take Robert Flyn and check it out.” Flitz steps back and shows the Heroes a man standing behind them; a human wearing animal skins.

“I am Robert.  I’ve been working for the past few months gaining the trust of the leader of House Mestlani so I could get close to him to find out who is actually pulling the strings.  I’ve figured out that there are close ties between them and the guild of assassins, the Black Hand, which is led by Dendybar Retari.  This may be the link.” Robert explains.

“Good to meet you Robert.  This is Eltharion, Ogrim, Grog, Jezda, and myself, Bink.  Let’s get going.”

Once again, Bink leaves his shield guardian at the hideout as they set out into the sewers.  They follow their instructions and find a passage that doesn’t smell so foul as all the others.  They go down it.  After twenty minutes of cautious approach, they hear some talking up ahead.  High-pitched voices speaking…

“Draconic.  Sounds like kobolds.” Eltharion states.

They continue forward, and a crossbow bolt flies by them.  They waste no more time, and charge.  Bink casts light on a rock and tosses it toward the kobolds.  They have a defensible position set up, with boulders and other places to hide behind while they fire on their opponents.  It does little to stop the Heroes, who easily leap/climb over the rubble and slay the kobolds quickly and cleanly.  Bink picks off two who attempt to run away with well placed, greenish energy magic missiles.

“Too easy, keep your guard up.” Eltharion guesses, and they continue down the long corridor, weapons drawn.  

The passage begins to slope downward, and up ahead on the side of the passage is a stairwell, leading up to a doorway that is blocked by a large slab of rock.  Talking can be heard from the other side, albeit muffled.  The talking is in…

“Undercommon.  Undercommon?  Why would a trade house speak undercommon?” Eltharion asks himself.  The talking from behind the rock goes quiet, obviously they heard Eltharion.

“Who, who is there?” a voice is heard from behind the rock.  This time, in the common tongue.

“Master?  Is that you?” Robert goes up to the rock and asks.

“Yes!  Robert!  Are you safe?”

“It’s my master from House Mestlani,” Robert tells the Heroes.  “I am safe, what’s wrong?  Open the door so I can talk to you.”

“No, that’s impossible.  The defense mechanism went off and we can’t get it open.” The master replies.

“Why would you need a defense mechanism that doesn’t let anyone out?” Robert asks.

“It’s because…” a slight pause, and some other, very faint voices can be heard in addition to the master’s.  Voices in undercommon.

“I smell a rat…” Eltharion states.

“Master, what is it?  Who is with you?” Robert asks, urgently.

“Um…” the other voices say some more. “Nobody, it’s just my house guards, trying to help me open the door.”

“Why are you hesitating master, what’s the matter?” Robert asks.  Almost a minute long pause, as the faint voices are heard some more.

“You see the passage that leads down?  Well… RUN DOWN IT! Dendybar is…” a loud gurgle is heard, blood begins to spill out from underneath the rock slab.

“MASTER, NO!” Robert exclaims, but doesn’t have time to mourn, as he is pulled by Eltharion and the others.  They run down the tunnel, away from the surface.

They continue to jog for at least 30 minutes.  They are all out of breath when they slow down to a walk.  The tunnel has continued to slope downward.  The width of the tunnel has remained mostly the same.  The walls have become increasingly more rough. 

A crossbow bolt clangs into a nearby wall.  Bink creates light on a rock and tosses is ahead, but the light is quickly snuffed out by magical darkness.  Everyone else charges.

Eltharion and Bink have trouble seeing, but Jezda, Grog and Ogrim don’t.  After they get past the magical darkness, they see two elves with black skin running and hiding behind a rock.  Grog charges one and separates his body from his head with a perfect slice of his katana.  Jezda pounds into the other one, while Ogrim finishes him by severing his leg.

Eltharion spots a third, once Bink gets a new light up.  Gritting his teeth he charges, anger leads his strikes as he cuts it down.  The lifeless corpse takes a few more stabs from the scimitar before Eltharion rests.

“I hate drow.” Eltharion reminds himself.

They collect the miniature crossbows the dark elves wield and continue down the tunnel.  Another 20 minutes pass, and they get to a part of the tunnel that widens into a room.  There are a few rocks to rest on, and carved pegs in the walls, with sacks hanging from them.  The party takes the sacks, looking through them idly.  A necklace, a staff, a wand, and a potion, all radiating magic, according to Bink.  The final sack contains three gems and almost 15,000 silver pieces.  The party doubles up the sack on that one and they continue downward, carrying everything.  Eltharion hears faint footsteps coming from behind them.  They drop their bags and charge back.  Another two dark elves stop abruptly and draw swords.  The battle is quick.  One attempted to retreat, but Bink melted away the back of his head with an acid arrow.  

They continue down the tunnel, the work of the walls getting more and more rough as they go.  Ogrim leads the way, followed by Eltharion, Jezda, Robert, Grog and Bink. 

“Where’s Bink?” Grog looks behind him and sees a form holding Bink, a dagger to his throat.  The party spins around, about 30 feet away.

“Don’t move, or I’ll kill him, and then all of you.” The man states, Bink stays motionless.  “No doubt you’ve heard of me; my name is Dendybar Retari.”  The party inches closer and closer.

Eltharion holds in a chuckle.  “Nice name buddy…”

This draws a scowl from Dendybar.  Eltharion squints, and sees a shape coming up behind Dendybar.  He takes this as a cue to charge.

Just as Eltharion charges, Bink pushes Dendybar’s arms away, which are summarily wrapped in a pair of bolas, flung from behind.  Eltharion and Robert close in.  Robert scores a deep cut on Dendybar’s flank, and Eltharion stabs him in the leg with his sickle.  Dendybar lets out a few curses, the last of which being the verbal component for a spell, and he vanishes from view.

From behind Dendybar, Senman and Enzonito come running up.  Enzonito gave them advice about the ascension of Xvim before.

“Just in time.” Enzonito states.  “Drat, lost a pair of bolas…”

“Hey guys,” Senman states, the party greets him.

“Bad news from Canticus.  I suggest we get back there as soon as possible.  I came to Tomaru looking for you guys, and luckily I ran into Senman here, who led me straight to you.  Had to talk to some rat-people to find you, however.” Enzonito explains.

“Good thing you came,” Bink rubs his neck where the dagger was pressed.

They head to the surface.  On the way, Enzonito explains what’s going on.

“Anyway, we’ve found out that Canticus is where Xvim has been hiding out.” Enzo says.

“You mean, that abandoned city that we found Drek and those goblins in?” Eltharion asks.

“Yes, that’s the one.  They are in a hideout underneath the church.  They have a thing for abandoned churches.”

“We should have known…” Bink adds.

“And I didn’t even have to come out and tell you.” Senman puts.

“Anyway, the storms around Canticus have gotten worse.  Two huge tornados are raging across the nearby lands.  It rains constantly.  The king of Brunswick, Wallace, has amassed a small militia force near Canticus, but they can’t proceed any further.  There is an electrical field coming from the place that would kill or incapacitate any normal person who goes through unprotected.  That’s why we needed you guys, a small force of elites who could get in.  I’d be going with you.” Enzonito pauses for a breath.

“Wow, I guess maybe the ascension is happening soon, then?” Eltharion asks.

“You guessed it.” Senman answers.  “I have just received a mental summons from Xvim to return to home base, Canticus.  I’ll do my best to keep the other generals off your back.  As much as I hate to say it, next time we meet, we’re most likely going to have to fight.”

“We’ll take it easy on you.” Ogrim grunts.

“Thanks.  Good luck.” Senman says, as he heads out of the sewers.

Enzonito the Ancient, Grog, Jezda, Bink, Eltharion, Ogrim, Robert and the large shield guardian quickly exit the city to the south.  They head back to Canticus.  To ascension.

Will the Heroes stop Xvim in time?  Will the Generals be too much for them?  How good is Enzonito, exactly?  Be here, next time.


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## Droid101 (Sep 8, 2004)

The large party arrives in Gelvain, the trade town north of Canticus.  The rain is pretty heavy, and the Heroes are glad to get indoors.  They go to the Bruised Bullywug, the tavern they visited before.  They all have a few drinks before heading upstairs and to sleep.  The thunder and rain make sleeping difficult.  Ogrim snores through it.

Groggy eyed and still rather sleepy, everybody slowly emerges from their rooms in the morning.  Two familiar figures approach.

Both are wearing the spiked armor and shields, with the altered Xvim symbol.  They charge immediately, before the party can ready their weapons, and before most of them are even awake.

Grog and Ogrim take the charge, both dodging deftly while trying to produce weapons.  Eltharion comes out of a room from behind them, and closes in.  Ogrim readies his Orc-Killer axe and shield.  Grog produces his long gleaming katana.  Eltharion draws his scimitar and sickle.  They all attack.  Eltharion takes advantage of his position and slides his scimitar between bands on the spiked splint mail, drawing a trail of blood.  His sickle works in with similar ease, jabbing under one of the soldiers’ arms.  Ogrim uses less grace than force, and overpowers the same soldier, blasting his axe past his shield and drawing blood from the arm.  Grog uses a similar approach.  His eyes glaze over red and his muscles bulge.  The spittle flies.  Grog performs a powerful overhead chop, forgoing accuracy for pure strength.  His efforts aren’t wasted, he smashes one of their spiked helmets in, the blood pours over his face and gets into his eyes.

The two soldiers strike back with precision.  Leading each other’s attacks, one lands a deep slice on Ogrim’s leg, and the other chops directly into his Orc-Killer, nearly severing the haft of the axe in one swipe.  This draws a furrowed brow from Ogrim, who retorts with another two powerful axe chops, weakening the soldier considerably.  Eltharion finishes him with two cuts with the scimitar, and his sickle flies out and cuts the other injured soldier in the shoulder.  Grog, screaming in rage, once again forgoes all skill for strength, chopping wildly.  It connects, crashes through his shield, destroys his armor, and cleaves entirely through his torso.  Grog walks back in his room and falls onto his bed; his katana clanging to the floor.

“What are these guys?” Eltharion examines the bodies.

“Must be elite templars of Xvim or something.” Ogrim reasons.  The rest of the party has emerged from their rooms and gathered around the dead Xvim soldiers’ bodies.

“Does that goblin use a katana?” Enzonito asks.

“Yeah, don’t ask.  Doesn’t he look ridiculous?” Eltharion answers.

“He can use whatever he’s comfortable with.” Bink adds, swinging his falchion defiantly.

Ogrim and Eltharion heal their wounds and everybody heads downstairs to get some breakfast.  They get some pork and eggs before heading out into the rain.  The storm is so strong that the marketplace has been deserted.  Some carts have been abandoned.  A couple of youths are seen looting one of them.  Across the street they see… Senman and Damaré.  Thinking fast, Senman diverts Damaré’s attention away from the party, surreptitiously motioning for the Heroes to get moving away from them.  Senman keeps Damaré busy long enough for the party to continue to the stable unnoticed.  

The stable is a horrible sight.  A huge 15 foot winged form inside, along with a smaller, decaying one, are killing the Heroes’ horses.  Trakker is nowhere to be seen.  The two forms turn and see the Heroes.  The decayed humanoid looks like Zhentil… but… more dead.  He opens his mouth to speak, but receives a hard kick to the gullet before he can.

Enzonito flew in at incredible speed, drawing his katana at the same time he delivers the hard kick to Zhentil.  Gryrtag, the pit fiend, lowers his face and his eyes set on Bink’s shield guardian.  He charges toward it, ripping into it with a claw.  The shield guardian fights back, pounding into Gryrtag’s heavily muscled and leather chest.  Eltharion and Ogrim charge Zhentil as well, surrounding him and harrying him, not allowing him to get a good spell off.  Grog charges in as well.  

Zhentil, while effectively evading, mouths a spell.  Colored rainbow lights fill the air.  Enzonito, Eltharion and Robert find themselves entranced by the colors.  Grog and Jezda close in.  Ogrim bashes Zhentil with his shield.

Gryrtag unleashes a furious round of attacks, clawing twice, biting and wing-buffeting the shield guardian.  Pieces of metal and wood fly off in different directions.  Bink stands back and pelts Gryrtag with _magic missiles_.  The guardian fights back, punching Gryrtag in the stomach.

Zhentil then turns, motions a spell and touches Ogrim; his finger covered with strange crackling blue energy, who tries to duck.  Ogrim falls to the ground, completely paralyzed.  This doesn’t stop Grog and Jezda, who come in from either size and pour it on.  Two high horizontal cuts from Jezda, and two low horizontal cuts from Grog leave little room for dodging, and Zhentil’s flesh is peeled from his bones.

Two huge explosions nearby send Jezda to his knees.  Two new creatures appear, about 20 feet away.  One is a ten foot humanoid with spikes all over its body.  The other is a shapely human looking woman, although she has black eyes and large feathery wings.  The spiky thing fires a volley into Grog who winces at the many spines sticking into his arms and chest.

The woman, however, merely looks at Bink.  She begins to walk toward a building across the street, and Bink follows closely after.  They both enter.

Grog disengages Zhentil and charges the spiny devil creature.  He lands a powerful blow, but the creature doesn’t seem too affected by it.  Jezda lands another hit on Zhentil.

“Enough, let us go…” Zhentil says, as he mouths a final spell and vanishes from view.  Gryrtag punches the shield guardian one last time, shattering it completely, before he likewise vanishes.  The hypnotic rainbow lights vanish and everybody comes to.  Except for Ogrim.

Enzonito flies at the spiky devil and lands two fast chops that level the creature to the ground, its body slowly melting away in a blob of flesh.

“Is he… dead?” Grog asks, peering down at Ogrim’s body.

“No, but he’s paralyzed.  I wonder for how long…” Bink responds, in deep thought.  He approached them from behind, unnoticed.

“Hey, are you really Bink?” Eltharion asks.

“Yeah it’s me.  She showed me a few tricks, that’s all.  Nothing to be worried about.” His eyes looked… different.  Wiser, perhaps.

The party, without horses, continues south on foot; the one remaining horse carrying Ogrim’s motionless body.  Bink grabs a piece of his shield guardian as a memento.  And perhaps to rebuild…

Is Ogrim frozen forever?  How pretty are those rainbow lights?  Does Gryrtag have a thing against constructs?  What power does Bink control now?  This and more, next update!


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## Droid101 (Sep 8, 2004)

Trakker emerged from the woods nearby, drawing a relieved sigh from Grog as they traveled south along the road to Canticus.

The rain had gotten more heavy, and the winds strong.  They knew they were getting close.  After about half a day’s travel, a bunch of tents were seen ahead.  As they approached, a guard from Brunswick castle approached them.

“The king has been waiting for you all to show up.  Come this way.”  The guard led them into the midst of the tents to a larger one.  Inside, Wallace Brunswick is seen.  A tall, stout man, raven hair with a chiseled goatee.  He wears brilliant plate armor with no helmet.

“I’m glad Enzo was able to find all of you.  We need some assistance getting into the lair of Xvim.  The closer you get, the more electrical charge surrounds you.  None of my soldiers would be able to make it close enough to get inside.  All of my personal knights are busy with other things right now, or else I wouldn’t need any help.  Prepare yourself how you see fit, and please, put an end to this mayhem.” Wallace looks concerned.

“We will take care of this problem.” Ogrim puts.

“Can you repair…” Bink starts, holding out his piece of the shield guardian.

“Not now,” Enzonito interrupts.

The party rests for the remainder of the day, and prepares for the next morning.  Robert politely excuses himself from them, deciding to return north to Tomaru.  The storm only grows worse.  Eltharion readies spells to make everyone able to resist the electricity when they make their run for it.

They charge forward through the rain as fast as they can.  Enzonito is far faster than everybody, moving at an unearthly pace.  The town of Canticus is just rubble now, remains of buildings are all that can be seen.  They feel the electrical energy pulsing around them, but run all the faster.  Enzonito calls out to them.

“Come here, this is it!” he lifts a large wooden fixture off the ground, a staircase leading straight down underneath it.  They all enter, escaping from the rain.  The spiral staircase that they go down is rusty, and water is continually dripping from the stone ceiling.  Two forms rush at them from down the hallway at the bottom of the stairs.  Enzonito makes short work of them.

He spins his perfectly crafted katana above his head, sending out waves of blue energy.  The energy passes harmlessly over the Heroes, but burns and otherwise devastates the two spiky-armored guards, who collapse in a heap.  Jezda and Bink approach the large ornately carved stone doorway at the end of the moist hallway.  An arcane symbol lights up on the door and both of them collapse in pain.  

“Agh… it hurts…” Jezda manages.  Both climb to their feet slowly, and both have difficulty walking in such excruciating pain.  They are helped by the others.

They push open the doors with a little trouble, but manage.  Inside the passage breaks off into three separate openings.  The party walks straight ahead.  The hallway is lit brightly by a bright burning torch near the ceiling.  At the end of this hallway is another set of door, these ones iron.  They bear the Xvim symbol.  The party pushes them open.  They wish they hadn’t.

In front of them stands Trek-Donal, Senman, Damaré, and The Necromancer.  A calming effect is felt as they enter the room.  The four generals stand in front of a large glowing pillar, atop of which is a brilliantly glowing figure, whose features can’t be made out.  Floating off to the left, at the same height as the glowing form, is Zhentil.  A booming voice can be heard from the glowing figure, as the Heroes all calmly walk in, their eyes slightly glazed over.  The door closes behind them.

“Good to see you… all the ones closest to me.  Of course Zhentil, my generals, Trek-Donal, Damaré, Senman, and The Necromancer.  Gryrtag as well.”  The form motions behind the pilar, and Gryrtags huge presence can be seen.

“Ogrim, Eltharion, Jezda, Bink, Grog and Enzonito.  All who witness my passing into Godhood must die; so your souls shall become one with my immortality.  Zhentil, your power has grown immensely, and your ties close to my own.  *Join me…*” that last part boomed and echoed into infinity.  Zhentil’s eyes can be seen narrowed, but then suddenly the sockets widen as crackling energy emanating from the glowing form envelops Zhentil, and he completely disintegrates into nothingness.  His possessions fall to the ground below.

Several devil creatures appear randomly in the chamber, which begins to shake, as the magical energy from eight altars flows into the central figure.  The Heroes can feel their own life forces being pulled into the pillar.

The four generals look at each other, around at the devils, and then at the Heroes.

“So it begins…”

Which Hero will be the first to taste death?  Can six of them fight off a pit fiend and six other devils, along with four powerful generals?  Why did Zhentil die, he wasn’t such a bad guy!?  Tune in next time!


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## Droid101 (Sep 10, 2004)

“We’re so screwed,” Eltharion admitted, looking around the large chamber to get a bearing before all Hell (literally) broke loose.

The chamber was basically + shaped.  The pillar in the center was (presumably) Xvim.  There were eight altars, all seven feet tall.  Something on top of them was pouring power into the central pillar.

About ten feet in front of the Heroes were the four Xvim generals.  Behind the generals, scattered around the chamber, was Gryrtag, the 15 foot tall pit fiend, three blobby masses of flesh with claws, a six foot tall chain devil, and a spiny barbed devil, much like the one they fought the previous day.

Before anyone else could manage to act, Enzonito took two long paces and leaped at Gryrtag.  Holding onto his small green glowing serpentine amulet with one hand, he reached out and touched Gryrtag with his other.  Both vanished as the space and time around them fluctuated.

“Necro, fly up and target the Hamatula.  Trek, you keep it busy.  Damaré, match chain with chain.  I’ll get the lemures.” Senman spews orders and the generals fly into action.  “Help where you can!” he yells to the Heroes.

The Necromancer floats up into the air, firing off a streaking bolt of lightning at the barbed devil.  The spell fizzles as it reaches the devil.

“Blast it!” The Necromancer sputters.

Senman launches a volley of twelve small knives, all of them pelting into several of the blobby devils.  They all bounce off harmlessly.

“Great…”

Damaré fares better.  He approaches the chain devil, whipping his own chain around his body.  With a turning somersault the chain flies toward the devil, tripping him up in his own chains and bringing him to the ground with a thud.  Trek flies at the barbed devil, landing punch squarely in the thing’s gut, affecting it slightly.

Now, the Heroes react.  Bink casts _Spider Climb_ and scuttles up a nearby wall to oversee and pelt devils with magical missiles.  Eltharion runs up to the nearest altar, pushing with all his might.  It teeters and falls over, the stone cracking and breaking, and a suit of armor, a scroll case, a wand, and a ring go scattering to the ground.  Each of them is emitting a blue light that is trailing toward the middle pillar.  Eltharion notices that his own magical sickle is trailing light toward Xvim.

Grog charges at the barbed devil, flanking it with Trek, and dealing a deep cut into its flank.  His muscles bulge and his eyes become bloodshot.  His knuckles turn as white as a goblin’s green knuckles can, gripping his katana so tight.

Jezda runs around the battlefield and positions himself next to the chain devil that was tripped up.  He raises his greatsword over his head.  Ogrim _blesses_ himself and brings his staff to bear, the one they found in the long underground passage.  Bink had identified it as a _Staff of Defense_.

Damaré’s chain begins to strangle him; the chain devil taking over control of it.  This draws an overhead chop of Jezda’s greatsword that cuts the devil deeply.  The barbed devil slashes Grog and Trek each once, drawing long scrapes across both of their chests.  The blobby devils close in on whoever’s closest, none of them scoring an effective hit, but creating a more chaotic scene.

A large explosion, similar to the one that brought the devils forth in the first place, goes off behind Jezda.  An enormous, almost 14 foot wide demonic looking spider appears.  Jezda turns, and his eyes widen.  The thing rips into him with two large claws and a poisonously salivating bite.  All the attacks connect.  The claw rip and rend into his chest, tearing his dented plate mail asunder.  The bite tears deep into his shoulder, and he can feel the burning poison turn his stomach and weaken him considerably.

Grog yells out, seeing his friend in danger, and charges the demon spider.  The barbed devil slashes his leg as he runs, but he doesn’t notice.  He draws a bite from the spider as well as he approaches due to the long reach of the creature.  He grits his teeth and holds off the poison from taking effect.  His katana slams hard into the spider, drawing a gout of brackish blood.

Bink follows suit by launching a volley of _magic missiles _ into it.  Eltharion runs to another pedestal, attempting to push it over.  It teeters, but does not fall.  He grits his teeth and keeps trying.

Trek-Donal throws a volley of punches and kicks into the barbed devil, all with small effectiveness.  Senman fends off a couple of blob devils that surrounded him.  Ogrim activates a shimmering shield of perfect geometric shapes from the _Staff_, a _Shield of Law_.  He stashes the staff and brings his axe and shield to bear.  He approaches the barbed devil.

The Necromancer throws another bolt of lightning at the barbed devil, this time it sizzles the flesh of the thing, which howls in pain.  Jezda grits his teeth, his flesh burning, his armor useless, his muscles weak.  He lets out a flurry of furious greatsword swipes.  One of them connects, dealing heavy damage to the spider, and another spray of black blood.  Damaré struggles to get the chains off himself.  The barbed ends cutting up his body terribly.

The blob devils claw into Senman, who takes a few scratches, but nothing too serious.  The barbed devil launches a volley of spines into Ogrim, most of which bounce off his glowing magical _Shield of Law_.  The spider demon attacks Grog, both claws tearing into him and ripping off his studded leather armor.  Another bite lands in his flank, and he feels the poison take effect.  He staggers to a knee, but stands quickly.  He hardly notices the pain.  He hardly notices anything.  His eyes bloodshot, he lets out a scream and swings his katana as hard as he can.

Success!  One of the demon spider’s long chitinous legs is severed cleanly, the blood pouring into a rapidly growing pool on the ground.  The creature remained standing.

Everyone (except for the devils) felt a churning in their stomachs.  The reddish energy coming from each of them began to flow more quickly to the central pillar.  The bluish energy from their magic items (and the ones on the altars) began to flow more quickly as well.  Several of the items had burned out.  Eltharion noticed no more energy was flowing from his sickle.

“My sickle!  You bastard!” Eltharion was enraged.  He pushed with all his might, knocking over another tall altar.  A wand, a longsword, a scimitar, and a rod scattered on the ground.  Eltharion picked up the scimitar before moving to the next altar.

Bink fired off some _magic missiles_ at the blobs, killing two of them.  Senman continued to fight them off with a shortsword, doing minimal damage.  Trek and Ogrim effectively double-teamed the barbed demon, and were getting one or two good hits in.  They were whittling it down.  

Damaré was still struggling with his chain.  Grog and Jezda attacked yet again.  Jezda, considerably weakened, was able to connect with a solid strike.  Grog, once again with a mighty blow, severed yet another of the huge creature’s legs.  It remained standing.  It countered with two claws, slashing Grog deeply.  He didn’t notice.  His wounds were enough to kill any normal man twice, but he kept foaming at the mouth.  A bit flew at Jezda who was unable to get out of the way.  The poison once again filled his body, and he burning was too much.  He could feel his internal organs liquefying.  His vision blurred.  His balance lost.  His world, dark.  He collapsed, his greatsword clanging against the finely worked stone.  If Grog could possibly be more enraged, that is what he became.

The barbed devil flailed to the last.  A spiny fist connected with Trek, drawing some more blood.  The last blob scratched Senman lightly.  The chain devil continued to control the chains around Damaré from his vantage point on the ground.

Bink climbed down and pushed over a pedestal.  This one nearly landed on Damaré, had he not jumped back.  Eltharion likewise pushed one over.  Two shields, a wand, a greataxe, a chain shirt, a longbow, and another scimitar tumbled off the downed pedestals.  Eltharion was quick to pick up the second scimitar.

The Necromancer launched some _magic missiles _ of his own at the barbed devil.  Another punch from Trek and a low axe hit from Ogrim sent it back to Hell.

Grog couldn’t see or hear anything other than Jezda falling.  His blood red gaze met the spider demon’s many eyes.  He flew in with a sharp stab of the katana, ripping the thing’s head segment in half, sending it sprawling to the ground.  He turned and overhead chopped the chain devil behind him, slicing its arm and breaking its concentration.  Damaré, now freed, chain-whipped the chain devil in the head.  It stopped moving.

Loud clanging could be heard from one of the walls of the room.  Bink let his eyes shift into the magical spectrum, seeing all sorts of flowing colors and spell-stitched items.

Senman finished off the last blob, and looked to the pillar of light.  Everyone could feel their very souls being pulled from their bodies.

“We have to get out of here!” Senman yelled over the tumult of the clanging and magical energy, crashing like waves.

“Get that one, and that, and those, pick up those!” Bink was calling out orders.  Ogrim and Eltharion went over and began to retrieve the items he pointed out; items that still had magical properties left.  The clanging stopped.  An explosion ensued.

Rock and debris went flying from one of the walls.  A large hole was opened.  Three dwarves were seen emerging, immediately grabbing onto their stomachs, their souls being pulled from their being.

“Silverhammers?” Ogrim recognized them immediately.  They had met two of them previously.  The Heroes had found their missing wagon.

“Get out of this room!  Head back into the tunnel!” Senman yelled, the dwarves were quick to comply.  The Necromancer, Trek-Donal, Damaré, Senman, Ogrim, and Bink ran for it.  Eltharion was busy healing Grog as his rage of emotions expired.  He surely would have fell dead without Eltharion’s spells.  The hefted Jezda’s body and ran for it as well.

A large explosion like trumpets blaring into a silent night issued from behind them.  The magical/soul energy had ceased flowing from them; none of them falling, as they were a far enough distance away to stop the flow of energy.  After a good ten minutes of hustling down the recently carved tunnel, they began to slow.  Bink looked around nervously at the four generals.

“So, heh, hope we’re not holding grudges…” Bink said meekly.  Everyone was catching their breath at this point, nobody responding right away.

With a slightly snobbish expression, his black dreadlocks swaying slightly, “You helped us out of a tight spot.  The way I see it, is that we owe you.” The Necromancer states.

Surprised and slightly amazed, “Wow, anytime!” Eltharion responds.

“Follow us.  It’s gonna to be a long trip.  We’ve been diggin’ for months.  Bribdan here, our resident spellcaster, felt lots of magic comin’ from this here direction,” the dwarf points the way back to Xvim’s temple.  “We was diggin’ to find out what it was.  Good thing we got there when we did, looks like!”

“Yes, we are at your eternal service,” Ogrim responds.

“Ah, don’t be talkin’ like that.  Anyway, a couple days and we should be entering Dardenkidin, our under-mountain stronghold.” The dwarf responds.

“That’s where I’m from.  That’s perfect.” Ogrim states.

“Is it possible to go back?” Damaré asks the Necromancer.

“Most likely that room is collapsed.  That path is blocked.” The Necromancer answers, matter-of-factly.

“Dwarves, great…” Trek is less than enthusiastic.

The travel is just as the dwarves stated, a good three days of trail rations, dwarven drinking games, and hearty song, and they reach Dardenkidin.  

“I don’t think I could take much more of that…” Eltharion states.

“I was already past that point.  If I ever see another dwarf, it’ll be too…” Damaré starts, but the defeated look in his eyes speaks volumes.  The cavernous entrance to the stronghold has several dwarf guards, and when they enter the expansive, finely crafted halls, dwarves are seen all about, tending to work.  “Wonderful…”

They are all taken to a large inn and given rooms.  Ogrim goes to visit his family.  Bink and the Necromancer sit in front of the large pile of magic items they found.  Jezda is brought to the temple of Moradin.  With a lot of convincing from Ogrim, and a tale of the battle against the ascending Xvim from Eltharion, the head priest agrees to raise him from the dead, but for a hefty donation.  The party agrees, and Jezda’s body is cleansed of poison and raised from the dead.

“Did we… win?” Jezda asks with a weak voice.

“You did it.  We won cuz of you.” Grog answers, happy to see his friend.

The Heroes and Generals get settled in before they make any plans for the immediate future.  They had won the day.

Heroes and Generals 4-ever?  Will they form a Super-Team?  What magic items did they procure?  What’s next for everyone?  This and more, next time.


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## Droid101 (Sep 10, 2004)

The Loot-a-rific Post!

Here’s all the loot the party obtained from the Xvim-ascension pedestals:

Full Plate of Lightning Resistance (20) +5
Staff of Size Alteration, 20 charges
Sylvan Scimitar +3
Potion of Cure Moderate Wounds
Scroll, Arcane: Stone Shape, Persistent Image, Domination, Grasping Hand, Reverse Gravity, Spell Turning
Rapier +3
Wand of Lightning Bolt
Figurine of Power; Serpentine Owl
Dagger +5
Large Steel Shield of Spell Resistance (13) +3
The Oathbow
Flaming Scimitar +2
Halberd +1
Large Steel Shield of Blinding +1
Heavy Mace +1
50 Crossbow Bolts +1
Defending Dwarven Waraxe +1
Mantle of Spell Resistance (21)
Iron Bands of Billaro
Two Potions of Strength

In addition to this, The Necromancer agreed, in principle, to pay off his debt to the Heroes (for helping them in the battle against the devils) by imbuing Ogrim’s Orc-Killer axe to be an Orcbane Battleaxe +3.

Items that lost their power in the battle, drained to help Xvim ascend:

Eltharion’s Sickle of Spell Storing +1
All of the party’s potions (CLW, CMW, Jumping)
Bink’s Wand of Charm Person
Ogrim’s scroll of Shillelah, Detect Evil, and Lesser Restoration

Pedestal items that lost enchantment:
Scroll, Arcane: Finger of Death, Cloudkill, Transmute Rock to Mud, Wall of Iron, Flesh to Stone
Wand of Darkness, 40 charges
Ring of Protection +3
Rod of Security
Wand of Magic Missiles, two missiles, 41 charges
Longsword +3
Rod of Rulership
Scroll, Divine: Invisibility Purge, Remove Blindness/Deafness, Cure Critical Wounds, Tongues
Heavy Crossbow +3
Scroll, Arcane: Shadow Conjuration
Large Steel Shield +4
Greataxe of mighty cleaving +3
Rod of Enemy Detection
Manual of Bodily Health +5 (ouch)
Chain Shirt of Heavy Fortification +3
Cloak of Resistance +5

I rolled up randomly every single item listed thus far.  When the battle was going on, 0-2 items per round on pedestals lost their enchantment, completely at random.  Any item not on a pedestal (in someone’s possession or on the ground) had a 10% chance of losing enchantment each round.

Eltharion procured both scimitars, and the mantle of spell resistance.  All arcane scrolls were split between the Necromancer and Bink.  Ogrim got the shield of spell resistance.  Bink picked up the wands and staff, and the crossbow bolts.  The halberd and full plate went to Jezda.  The dagger and potions of strength went to Grog (he never asks for anything).  Everything else was sold.  Half the money from the sales went to raising Jezda.  The other half, along with a lot that they had been saving up, went into storage in the stronghold, at Ogrim’s family’s dwelling.  Almost 30,000 gold is stored.

While all the treasure was being divvied up, Ogrim trained under his father to become a Defender.  The Necromancer worked on Ogrim’s axe.  The other Generals thought about what they could do to repay the Heroes.  The Heroes, likewise, wanted to befriend the Generals best they could.

And no, they did not stop Xvim from ascending.  Though, the impact of them taking away the magic and their own souls to keep them from Xvim may have caused a less than optimal transition.  

Next time… the dark elves are coming(?).  What is the Dark Tide?  Eltharion: captured!?


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## Droid101 (Sep 13, 2004)

Thus ends Part 1: Iyachtu Xvim and a Lackluster Ascension

And Part 2 begins: Intro to the Dark Tides

Ogrim visits his father frequently.  The Necromancer is busy enchanting Ogrim’s Orc-Killer axe.  Damaré, Trek-Donal and Senman talk to the Heroes.  Grog and Jezda train.  Eltharion commissions to have a breastplate made out of rare Darkwood.  The world finally seemed… at peace.

But not for long.  An advisor to the king of the dwarves calls a meeting with the Heroes after about two weeks.  He is an almost unusually short dwarf.

“I am Stiggle.  Please be seated.” The small dwarf enunciates perfectly.  The Heroes and the Generals take their seats around a large stone table.

“No doubt you have heard that our continent is in bad shape.” Stiggle begins.

“Yes, we heard the king of Brunswick, Wallace, talking about some thing were all these evil races were joining together.  Giants, dark elves, et cetera,” Bink states.

“That is exactly right.  It has been called the ‘Dark Tides.’  All the races of evil will band together for their foul purpose of taking over.  It has been recorded in many prophecies.  All of them speak of it in different forms, but they all have the same conclusion: the forces of evil coming together for a dark purpose.  Many reports from our outlying trade teams have confirmed this.  On the small island to the east, many giant tribes have been growing in strength.  They have begun construction of a huge bridge that would cross the ravine that separates them from the mainland.  This could be the precursor to an attack.” Stiggle pauses.  “Also, from the east, we have been getting reports of a massing of cult members, seemingly of evil purpose.”

“Xvim…” the party groans.

“Actually, I don’t believe they are related to the Xvim cult.  Supposedly they are amassing at a large temple complex called ‘Tovag Baragu’ in the salt flats.” Stiggle corrects.

“Oh, I think I read about that when I was researching Xvim, trying to find their main temple.  Didn’t find out much about it, though.” Bink states.

“Lastly, but most definitely not least, the dark elves are becoming aggressive.  Usually, they stay away from us and we avoid them.  But lately, they have been testing out defenses.  More and more deep tunnels are getting attacked.  More guards have been posted, but we are still lacking in a few key areas.  The reason I have called you here, is to ask if you would assist in guard duty in one of the more frequently attacked areas.” Stiggle asks bluntly.

“We will do our part.” Ogrim answers for the party.

“I think we’ll sit this one out.  We have things to attend to.  Once the Necromancer finishes your axe, we’ll be going our own way.” Senman states, speaking for the Generals.

“Fair enough.” Ogrim answers.

“But remember, if ever there is a great task where you need our help, we’ll be there.” Trek-Donal says.

“We’ll come looking for you if that day ever arises,” Eltharion answers.

The next two days are mostly boring.  Ogrim stands stalwart guard at an ordinary looking tunnel.  Eltharion, Bink, Grog and Jezda goof off most of the time, not straying too far from Ogrim.  After two days, The Necromancer finishes Ogrim’s axe, and the Generals bid them all farewell as they are to escorted back to the surface.  Eltharion’s darkwood breastplate is likewise finished.

The next day, guard duty continues.  Eltharion gets bored and begins to go scouting away from Ogrim and the others.  He sneaks down a corridor.  He makes turn after turn, and soon he is pretty lost.  He thinks he spots some humanoid tracks, and begins to follow them.  He follows them for a good 30 minutes when get sees a bunch of moving forms in a small open cavern.  _Faerie Fire_ lights up parts of the cavern, and Eltharion sees three dark elves.  One wearing shoddy tattered clothing with unkempt hair.  One female with shiny plate armor and a writing snake flail.  One is dressed in a cloak and looking rather mean, studying a book.  There are several goblins sitting (cowering) in a corner, seemingly ready to take some orders if they are given.

Eltharion feels a sharp pain on his arm.  He looks down and sees a small dart poking out.  He feels drowsy, unable to stay standing.  He falls over; the poison taking effect quickly.

Meanwhile, back at the guard post…

“Where is that elf?  Probably getting into trouble,” Ogrim shakes his head.

“Who knows… he probably got lost,” Bink answers.

“We should find him, maybe?” Grog asks.

“He’ll find his own way back…” Ogrim grumbles, and that is that.

Eltharion opens his eyes.  His arms are behind his back held in place by some manacles.  His weapons still on his back.  If only he could reach…

“Stand up, _elf_,” the condescending tone is apparent.  A female voice, deep and sultry.

Eltharion stood up, his eyes narrowed as he looked upon the drow priestess.

“Come along.  You’re going to be present when your friends die.  I want you to watch them screaming in pain.  Then, I’m going to kill you… slowly,” she sounds serious.  Her snake flail writhes in anticipation at her words.

A small force, ten or so goblins and the three dark elves walk down the tunnel.  Eltharion is pushed along in their midst, in between the goblins.

_Gotta warn the others_, Eltharion thinks to himself.  He looks around quickly.  When they reach a bit of a larger tunnel, he shapeshifts into a leopard and bolts.  The manacles slide off during the change, and some of the goblins try to grab him, but he’s too fast.  He runs down the tunnel.  Once out of range of the dark elves, he follows his own trail back to his friends.

“They’re coming!” Eltharion shifts into human form just as Jezda was about to jump on him.

“You’re not a cat, I’m confused,” Jezda starts, but nobody takes the time to explain.

“Who is coming?” Bink asks.

“Three dark elves and a bunch of goblins.  Take defensive positions,” Eltharion hides behind a nearby rock.  Bink magically climbs up to the ceiling.  He magically _lights_ up a few stones and throws them randomly around the tunnel they are in. Grog, Jezda and Ogrim get ready to flank whatever comes their way.

They wait in relative silence for a while.  Minutes pass.  Goblins charge.  Ten goblins come charging down the tunnel.  Grog and Jezda meet them head on, killing a few.  Ogrim likewise charges them, taking one down with his newly enchanted axe.  Eltharion stays concealed, moving around the rock.

A huge wall of flames leaps up right on top of Grog, Jezda and Ogrim.  Grog dives past it, drawing a few strikes from goblins.  The flames only harm him slightly.  Jezda and Ogrim were not so lucky.  The burnt flesh and hair can be smelled and they quickly get out of the fire.  Several of the goblins get burned and fall to the ground.  Four reddish magic missiles fly from down the passage, out of sight.  They strike Grog hard, and he feels his pulse rise.  His eyes glaze over red and he charges into the darkness.

Bink crawls over the wall of flames, which doesn’t quite reach the ceiling.  Eltharion sneaks down a side passage, trying to circumvent the wall.  He is met by the armored dark elf priest and her three-headed snake flail.  It flails at him and all three heads bite into him.  He feels the burning as the poison settles in, his muscles weakening considerably.  He manages a combination with his new flaming and sylvan scimitars.  He connects on two hits, drawing blood from beneath her armor, and a scorching burn to her arm.

Jezda cleaves through the last of the goblins.  Ogrim _protects_ them both from flames, and they jump through the wall, taking only minimal burns.  They run the same direction Grog did.  A _lightning bolt _ streaks from the wall and strikes both Grog and Jezda.  Jezda’s armor protects him, but Grog isn’t so lucky.  The burns are serious, but he hardly notices.  Bink casts an area dispel, revealing the shabby-dressed dark elf clinging to the side of the wall.  Near him on the ground is the black-cloaked elf.  Ogrim charges, and the elf turns to run.  Grog gets close and slams him in the back with his katana.  Some unnatural magical force stops his blade somewhat, but he presses through and draws a wound and a scream from the elf.  

Bink attempts to stall the escape by throwing up a _lightning bolt _ at the wizard.  The spell fizzles out and doesn’t affect him.  About ten writhing black tentacles spring up from the ground behind the spellcaster, covering his escape.  Grog, Ogrim, and Jezda are in the area with the tentacles.  Grog and Ogrim are able to get out of the way, but Jezda isn’t so lucky.  Several of the tentacles grab him and hold him immobile.  The two spellcasters are nowhere to be seen.  They hear the clanging of metal on metal nearby the wall of flames.  Grog runs back to see Eltharion taking one final snake bite to the neck and collapse.  Grog’s eyes are still bloodshot and crazy, and he charges.  The elf woman chuckles and fades into the nearby wall, disappearing from view.  Grog collapses from exhaustion.  Ogrim helps Jezda escape the tentacles.  Everybody gathers around Eltharion.

“Is he… dead?” Jezda asks.

“No, just poisoned,” Ogrim states, inspecting the body.  “He aint got no strength to stand.  Let’s carry him back.”  The Heroes take him back into the stronghold and report what happened.  Guards are sent to bolster the defense while the Heroes rest.

The next morning, upon going downstairs at the inn they’re staying at, they see a terrible sight.  The wall is covered with blood, spelling out a message that says: 

_Where is elf?​_
The innkeeper’s body is nearby, obviously the ink for said grisly document.  Outside, although hard rock, Eltharion can get a good read on the traces left behind of whoever did this.

“Let’s follow them, now!” Eltharion looks angry, but still pretty weakened.

“First, we go to the priest and have him restore some of yer strength,” Ogrim states, and they do so.  They get back to the tracks and begin to follow them down into the tunnel they were guarding.  The traces twist down a passage.  They follow as the tracks then turn down another.  They lead into yet another tunnel, but this one has dwarven runes carved into either side of the wall.

“They read ‘Dead end’,” Ogrim states, matter-of-factly.

“Great, the tracks lead to a dead end…” Eltharion says.

“It’s a trap,” Bink states.  Everyone nods in agreement.

“I don’t care.  I’m not scared,” Eltharion continues down the passage.  The party follows.  It turns gradually to the right and widens to about 40 feet across.  The ceiling grows from 30 feet to about 80, as judged by Bink’s _light_ rocks.  The tracks end right at the end of the tunnel.  Bink scatters a few _light_ stones.  Just then, about 80 feet back, a huge wall of ice blocks out the entire passage way.

“We are efficient.  We would have easily breached your tunnel, had we our normal regimen.  Now, everyone is together, plus Zik’Zin, a name you will hear echoing in your tortured eternity, as your souls feed the Spider Queen in the Abyss.” The words seem to come from the stone itself.  Eltharion recognizes the voice as that of the dark elf priestess who had poisoned him earlier.

A spongy looking creature with long tentacles appears in the center of the now-enclosed chamber.  Grog, Jezda, and Ogrim charge.  Eltharion readies his weapons and looks up, seeing a form flying down at him, fast.  Bink climbs a wall nearby, staying ready.

Another form appears, that of the ratty-clothed dark elf.  He launches a _lightning bolt_ at Jezda and Ogrim.  Ogrim doesn’t dodge and takes some nasty burns.  Jezda’s armor absorbs the lightning and doesn’t affect him.  Jezda alters his course and charges this caster.  The form above Eltharion swoops down, striking Eltharion as it lands next to him.

“I found you… elf,” the thing states.

A long cut on the arm quickly spills blood all around.  The thing looks like a dark elf, but he has large bat wings and small horns protruding from his head.  He is wielding a wicked longsword and a large mirrored shield.  Eltharion lashes out.  Four swings of his scimitars, and four expert blocks with the shield.  Eltharion looks enraged.

Grog slams into the rubbery demon and draws some substance from a long katana wound.  Ogrim stays back and _blesses_ himself.  Next to him, a shape steps out of the wall.  It is the dark elf priest, who lashes at Ogrim with her snake-flail.  One head bites into him, and he grits his teeth, his dwarven body fending off the poisons.

Jezda reaches the spellcaster and chops down with his greatsword, but to no avail.  It slams into the caster, but draws no wound.  The dark elf smiles wickedly.  Bink launches a _lightning bolt _ at the winged elf, which burns him pretty badly.

Ogrim lets out a series of axe-chops at the female and finally hits her through her tough adamantium armor.  She growls in anger.  Grog pounds the demon thing, which attacks him back a few times.  Both trade blows, neither goes down.  Eltharion tries his luck again, and after another combination of attacks, he only connects on one against the winged elf.  

Suddenly, another wall appears.  This one is made of iron.  It separates Ogrim, Eltharion and Bink from Jezda and Grog.  Ogrim steps back away from the priestess, and up to the wall.  He pushes with all his might.

“Run away from the wall!” Ogrim yells, hoping Jezda and Grog can hear him.  The wall teeters back… and forth… and finally… it falls.  On Ogrim and the priestess.  However, it doesn’t stop there.  It crashes through the floor and everyone falls close to 50 feet to another passage below.  The huge sheet of iron flips and flips again landing on something at the bottom of this new room, and draws an unearthly loud roar.  It landed on a purplish dragon(!!!).

The Heroes land scattered around the room.  Ogrim is severely injured.  Grog and Jezda aren’t in good shape either.  Eltharion lands next to a wand and a lot of gold, so his wounds don’t seem too bad.  Bink was climbing when it collapsed, so he just _feather falled _ down the rest of the way.  The priestess was injured, as was the spellcaster.  The winged elf flew down the huge hole.  The blubbery demon landed next to the dragon as well.  Chaos ensued…

Will the dragon eat everybody?  How much does a wall of iron weigh?  Will they ever have a fair fight against these rogue drow?  This and more, next time!


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## Br0kyn Sword (Sep 13, 2004)

I like the Generals.  Have you considered maybe writing a short excursion on their adventures?  Maybe call it... Gods and Generals... haha.  For some reason... they remind me of the generals from Mega Man X series.  They're big and tough and evil and good at the same time.  Keep up story!


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## Droid101 (Sep 13, 2004)

Br0kyn Sword said:
			
		

> Have you considered maybe writing a short excursion on their adventures?  Maybe call it... Gods and Generals!



I have a sneaking suspicion that you haven't seen the last of them yet.      Worry not.


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## Droid101 (Sep 13, 2004)

The purplish dragon lifted with all his might, and shed the heavy wall of iron from off his back.  Many broken scales, a broken wing, and a downpouring of blood remained in it’s place.  The wall of iron slammed down into his bed of gold coins with a loud smash.

The flying dark elf flew up to the top of the chamber, and then back down, carrying another, dark cloaked elf.  He landed next to the shabbily dressed spellcaster, and the dark cloaked one invoked a spell, and all three vanished.  Eltharion was busy picking up every item he could find.  Bink crawled down and found a passageway out of the dragon’s den.  The dark elf priestess stepped back into the wall, leaving the blob tentacle demon to fight off the dragon.  Grog and Jezda staggered to their feet and made a break for it, as did Ogrim.  All three ran (limped) to the passageway and out.

The dragon lashed out with a lethal combination at the demon.  The demon, still barely standing, flapped back at the dragon with its tentacles.  The Heroes were long gone.

They didn’t stop running for at least 15 minutes.  They hadn’t been more frightened in their whole life.

“At least it wasn’t a total waste…” Eltharion managed, gasping for breath.  He showed everyone the items he stashed into a sack.  A ring, a wand, and a pair of leather gloves, and two potions.

“You stole from a dragon?  Once he sees that stuff is missing, he’s going to come after us,” Bink reasons.

“He just got a giant slab of metal dropped on him from 100 feet.  I think he’s going to cut his losses for today and take a nap,” Eltharion reasons right back.

“True enough,” Bink agrees.

They continue walking, not even thinking about stopping to rest.  They stop for a minute or so here and there to get Eltharion to heal everybody as best he can.  They continue through the dark and winding tunnel.  Eltharion’s flaming scimitar is providing the only light.

“Any ideas on how we’re going to get back to the dwarves?” Eltharion asks.

“We’re not going back to the dragon, that much I know,” Bink states.

“I guess we’re just going to keep on down this tunnel…” Eltharion says, deflated.

And so they do.  After almost an hour of a simple twisting tunnel with no offshoots, it finally opens into a large room.  It extends as far as they can see.  The pathway on the ground is about ten feet wide, and a ten foot drop off on either side.  The room beyond is filled with large stalactites and stalagmites.  They cross the bridge-like pathway slowly and cautiously, weapons drawn.

They did right being cautious, as five thin tentacles fly in from their left, attempting to strike each of them at the same time.  Only Grog is ensnared, the tentacle burning and quickly weakening him.  He is dragged off the path and lands on the ground below with a thud.  Everyone else quickly jumps down and runs toward the tentacles.  Eltharion stays with Grog and tries to pull him free.

The tentacles grab out at everyone again, this time one strikes Bink, who resists the painful burning and retains his strength.  He maneuvers out of the tentacle’s grasp.  Bink, Jezda and Ogrim reach a stalagmite… with a  mouth?  Without question the all lay into it heavily with their weapons.  Ogrim chops back and forth.  Jezda swings his greatsword over his head.  Bink slashes it with his brilliant energy falchion.  The thing’s tentacles stop moving.

Bink identifies one of the potions they just found as _lesser restoration_, so they administer it to Grog, who regains his strength and feels much better.

“Whew, that wasn’t so bad,” Bink says.

“Don’t speak too soon.  We’re still stuck down here,” Eltharion reasons.

“It’s just a little cave,” Ogrim is stern.

They continue on.  They reach the end of this huge open room, and quickly they’re inside a small passage again, with no offshoot tunnels.  Bink gets a funny feeling.

“We’re being watched,” Bink points above them.

“I don’t see nothin’,” Ogrim grunts.

“It’s invisible.  Somebody is scrying us from afar.  Someone is spying on us,” Bink looks uneasy.

“Is there anything we can do about it??” Eltharion is frantic.

“Nope, we can only be prepared for the worst…” Bink states.  Everyone grips their weapons a little tighter.

A faint blue light surrounds Ogrim.

“What do I do…” Ogrim asks, calmly.

“Resist!” everyone shouts in unison.  The light slowly fades.

“Can they hurt us, whoever’s watching us?” Grog asks.

“I don’t know… I don’t think so.  Whatever that is, if they’re doing it, is very strong magic,” Bink explains.  The party moves on.  Everyone feels uneasy.

“Damn drow… quit watching me!” Eltharion yells, extending an inappropriate hand gesture toward the invisible scrying window.

The Heroes are being watched… What can this mean?  Is their doom near?  Can they escape the endless winding tunnels??  This and more, next update!


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## Droid101 (Sep 14, 2004)

They continue wearily down the tunnel.  All of their healing magic has been expended, and everyone looks tired.  Spirits are wearing thin.

“Should we stop to rest?” Eltharion asks, many make-shift bandages covering several wounds.

“I don’t know…” Bink starts.

“Whoever is watching us may get the jump on us if we stop.  We should keep going.” Ogrim reasons.  Nobody disagrees, but nobody is thrilled either.

“My feet hurt,” this is the first complaint they’ve ever heard Grog make; even when his entrails were hanging out from the vicious claws of the spider-demon, he didn’t make a peep.

“We can’t keep running into stuff.  Eventually we’re going to go down…” Jezda explains.

“We have no choice friend.  Let’s just watch each other’s backs, and move on,” Bink says, drawing a bit of a smile from everyone.

They continue down the tunnel.  The corridor seems more and more squared off here; worked, perhaps?  They pay little heed, pressing on, not wanting to stop to let anything sneak up on them or get a good read on them.  The nagging feeling of someone watching them via magical means remains.

A shower of rock from above splits up the party.  A huge beast thumps down in between the Heroes, slamming a huge fist into Eltharion’s head.  Eltharion sees stars, but shakes it off quickly.

A large (wide) insect-like creature stands before them, on two legs, having burrowed out of the ceiling and surprise attacking them.  Eltharion quickly staggers back away from the creature, taking a few steps down the passage to relative safety.  He doesn’t find it.

Another one of these creatures smashes out of a wall, blocking off Eltharion’s path.  Eltharion draws his twin scimitars and advances.  Grog and Jezda are behind the first one, and both slash into it with their blades.  Ogrim is on the other side of it, and he blocks it from moving with his shield.  Bink stands in between Ogrim and Eltharion, and another insect creature is on the other side of Eltharion.  Bink blasts it with his last _lightning bolt_.

The creatures then attack.  Seeing the largest foe near it, the first one attacks Jezda with a lethal combination.  Its eyes dance in Jezda’s head, who becomes even more _confused_ than normal.  Two fists slam hard into his chest and face, and he finds himself slipping into unconsciousness.  He hits the ground with a loud clank.  Right after he falls, a blue light surrounds him, much like the one that had surrounded Ogrim before.  But being unconscious, he couldn’t resist, and Jezda’s form disappeared from view.

“Damn you drow, give back our… cheesecake?” Eltharion’s statement is jumbled as he catches a glimpse of the insect creature’s eyes, becoming _confused_ at the sight.  The hulking insect takes the opportunity to pummel Eltharion, who dodges meekly, but takes another heavy fist to the gut.  He feels his world spinning.

Ogrim grits his teeth and slams into the first creature with a hard-pressed axe combination, splintering chitin with each blow.  Grog takes the opportunity to finish that one; distracted by the dwarf’s axe, Grog spins his katana over his head, his eyes filling with blood and his muscles expanding, he chops down, cracking through exoskeleton and brain matter.  The insect collapses.  Bink shoots off a set of _magic missiles _ at the insect fighting Eltharion.  It is weakened considerably from the bolt and missiles, but stays standing.

It takes one final punch to send Eltharion to the ground; a hit to the head spills blood over his face, and he collapses in a heap.  It takes a few quick steps to engage Bink.  The blue light surrounds Eltharion, and his body vanishes.

“You bastards!  Kickin’ us while we’re down!” Ogrim grunts, pushes Bink out of the way and engages the insect-creature.  Two quick swipes of the axe, and it staggered to it’s knees.  Bink delivered the finishing blow with his trusty falchion.  Grog stabbed it again for good measure.

“So, someone is kidnapping us while we can’t resist their spell…” Bink surmises, feeling around the locations where Jezda and Eltharion disappeared.  “They tried it on you, Ogrim, while you were still awake, but it didn’t work.  I guess it’s easier to affect someone who can’t really think.”

“When I find who did this, they’re gonna pay,” Ogrim sums it up.  Grog nods in agreement.  Ogrim says a quick prayer to Moradin, and the party continues on down the tunnel.  A few minutes more, and the passage seems to split off in three directions.  They go straight, and see that it splits again.

“Looks very formulaic, like someone dug a bunch of cris-crossing tunnels.  Strange.” Bink surmises.

They decide to just walk straight, ignoring all the passages leading left and right.  Grog runs down a passage to the right while Ogrim and Bink continue forward.  Grog emerges from the next right-offshoot.

“They’re all connected.” Grog states.  Everyone readies their weapons.

“This is just too strange.  And I can still feel someone watching us…” Bink says, gripping his falchion; his knuckles turning white from the tension.

After a minute, they come to a statue.  It is a large statue of a half-man, half-spider type creature.  It is extremely finely crafted, a look of fear on the creature’s face.

“A drider.  Been turned to stone, aint nobody carves this good,” Ogrim states, and nobody disagrees.  They look around, a bit more tense.

After another few seconds of walking, they see another two statues.  They are two elves, one is looking menacing with a sword, and the other one is turning away, almost as if it were running.  The detail, again, is extremely fine.

“Be on your guard.  If you hear anything, close your eyes,” Bink states, his blinding energy falchion providing a little light.

A few more steps… another statue set.  Looks like two dwarves.  One is pointing at something, the other is kneeling by the wall, digging with a pick-axe.  A few more steps, and they see a fairly large lizard-like creature, with eight legs that has been turned to stone.

“Um, if I’m not mistaken, that’s a basilisk.  Which turns things to stone,” Bink looks puzzled.  “Why is it made out of stone?”  

The sound of hooves is heard in the distance.  The cris-crossing tunnels make it impossible to determine the direction it is coming from.

“Get against the wall!” Bink yells, and they take up a defensive position, ready to surround whatever comes near them.  They all close their eyes.

The hooves get closer and closer, and finally they hear them round the closest corner.  Grog jumps at the sound swiping his katana blindly.  He strikes the stone wall.  Ogrim steps toward the sound too, chopping down with his axe.  He hits something that gives a little, almost a clang of metal on metal, but then the tearing of flesh is felt.

Bink steps in and swipes, but misses entirely.  They hear the thing breath in deeply, and then exhale.  A strange smelling air passes over them.

Grog’s muscles bulge and he yells out.  With his eyes still clamped shut, he swings vigorously at the creature.  One of his swings connects, ripping into the things flesh.  A guttural grunt emits from the thing.  Ogrim chops again, missing his mark entirely.

Another deep breath, and another exhale.  The air smells strangely sweet, almost inviting.

Ogrim grits his teeth and opens his eyes.  He sees a statue of Bink next to him with a blue light surrounding it.  Quickly it winks out of existence.  A statue of Grog is nearby also.  A big, metallic, bull-like creature stands before him, with two glowing green eyes, and two fairly large wounds already present in its flank.

“By the Hand of Moradin, you shall be struck down!” Ogrim raises his axe and chops down hard; almost too hard.  It embeds in the thing’s head.  It takes some effort to pull it out.  The bull-creature collapses.

The statue of Grog is surrounded by the blue light shortly after.  Ogrim drops his axe and grabs onto the statue, holding on tight.

“Yer not takin all of ‘em!” Ogrim holds tight, but the statue vanishes from his grasp.

He sits down next to the wall and puts away his weapon.  He delivers a kick to the metal bull from his sitting position.  He can still feel the scrying eyes, prying from a distant location.

“Come and get me!  And when I appear, ye’ll get an axe in the gut fer yer trouble!” Ogrim stands, axe and shield ready.  A blue light surrounds him… and his world is twisted in two…

What horror awaits Ogrim, alone, axe and shield ready?  Can he alone fight off the hordes of evil that await him?  Are there enough dwarven curses for his current predicament!? (Probably.)  All this, and more; next time!


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## Droid101 (Sep 15, 2004)

Interlude…

Ragnar, Drax, Kain, Joseph and Faelean flee as fast as they can.  Ragnar, being half-human, half-dwarf, doesn’t tire, but the rest of his party slows down.

“We can’t stop here, Dendybar is no doubt right behind us!” Ragnar yells, his well muscled Mul body running easily.  He spins his gladius.

“Come on, we have enough of a head start.  He’ll never catch us,” Joseph Blackshield states.  His face mostly hidden by his closed helmet.  Holy symbol to Torm bouncing on his chest.

“As much as I hate to say it, I agree with him, I’m walking,” Faelean Stormwind states.  His frail grey-elven body already very tired from the run.  His robes bear the symbol of Mystra prominently.  

Drax, the lizardman gladiator and Kain, the wood-elven gladiator both stop as well.

“We’re almost to the svirfneblin city.  We’ll be safe once inside,” Ragnar reasons, but the group has decided.  They slow to a walk.  They get inside without trouble, as they stopped by this city before they went into the dark elf city.  There, they met up with Dendybar Retari and killed his cohort, an evil beholder named Blakirge.  Dendybar was hot on their heels.

They are escorted to their contacts in the city, Drez and Zenziez, the high priest and personal wizard, respectively, to the gnomish king.  Drez greets them with a huge smile.

“We have perfected the use of the device!  We can teleport you home!” Drez says excitedly.

“Good, just in time, too.  We had a run in with a deadly assassin, who is probably still chasing us,” Ragnar explains.

“Whenever you’re ready, we can try it out,” Drez states, and the group prepares.  They follow Drez into their laboratory.

The contraption is strange and exotic.  Small blue crystalline rods protrude from a complex metal form.  Handles, or some other protrusions are on either side of it.  A larger glowing blue crystal sits in the center of it.  Drez and Zenziez each grab the two handles and concentrate hard.

“We have scryed the location you wish to go, Brunswick Castle.  Hopefully, the machine works,” Drez concentrates, fiddling with the handles at the same time as Zenziez.

A bright blue light flashes from it, engulfing the room, practically blinding the group.

The room looks the same.  Drax looks at Ragnar.

“We didn’t go nowhere,” Drax looks annoyed, if a lizard’s face can look such a way.

“I don’t understand it… it should have worked…” Drez shakes his head slowly.  The door to the laboratory opens, and an armored human (!?) guard walks in.  He bears the crest of Brunswick.

“Don’t move, any of you!” He brandishes his longsword.  “Get reinforcements, we’re under attack!”

“No no, we aren’t attacking… let me explain.  It seems that we have teleported our entire chamber here to Brunswick Castle… how extremely odd.” Drez looks perplexed.

After much discussion and yelling, King Wallace Brunswick comes into the room, greeting the group.

“I understand completely.  I was an adventurer once as well.  I know how… strange things can happen.  You are welcome to stay as long as you need.  Drez, you two can study this machine until you feel you can successfully transport yourselves home,” Wallace is very understanding.  The group thanks the king for his kindness.  They also, in turn, thank Drez for his help.

“You have done us a great service, Drez.  We would surely have been stuck underground for a very long time if it weren’t for you.  Thank you,” Ragnar expresses his thanks.

“Yeah, thanks,” Faelean was always abrupt.

“I hope you all learn the secrets of this machine and put it to good use,” Joseph states.

“We will do what we can to help, of course.”

Next post will be in about an hour, so wait up!  Things will all make sense shortly!


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## Droid101 (Sep 15, 2004)

Ogrim’s vision is blurred.  The world around him fades into a grey mist.  Just as abruptly, the mist fades away and he’s in a well-lit worked-stone room; looks like a laboratory.  To his right, Jezda and Eltharion sit, conscious and tending their wounds.  Next to them is a large silvery mirror, the image of the metal-bull creature is slowly fading away.  On the other side he sees a strange contraption.  Two black-skinned gnomes are operating it, concentrating on blue crystalline rods and protrusions.  They turn to face Ogrim right away, offering smiles, not swords.

“Hope you are well, Ogrim Oakenshield,” the taller of the two robed gnomes speaks.

“Who… deep gnomes?  Why?” Ogrim manages.

“I am Drez, and this is Zenziez.  We hail from deep underneath the earth.  A large Svirfneblin city,” Drez explains.

“Are we underground now?” Ogrim asks.

“No no, we are in Brunswick Castle,” Drez responds.

“Deep gnomes have taken over Brunswick Castle?” Ogrim demands answers.

“No no no… you don’t under stand.  Let me explain.  A long time ago, while excavating a passage deep under our city, we found this artifact,” Drez points to the crystal and metal contraption.  “For years Zenziez and I studied it.  Finally, we felt we had a good grasp on it.  Our first test came when a group of adventurers was fleeing a nearby dark-elven city.  They implored us to save them, so we decided to try the machine out.  It’s a teleportation device.  When we concentrate on it, we can teleport large groups of people to different places.  We haven’t perfected it yet, as you may have guessed, or we wouldn’t be here in the castle.  We tried to teleport the group to the castle, but the entire room we were all in went along for the ride.  We don’t want to try to teleport the machine itself again, not knowing if we’d be able to get it back.  So we’ll stay here until we can study it further.”

“Goodness.” Ogrim grunts.

“Please, the king and his guards have been informed of your arrival.  Make yourselves at home.  Zenziez and I must prepare spells to transform your friends back from stone,” Drez and Zenziez sit down at a nearby table.  Drez prays silently, and Zenziez reads a book.

“You okay?” Ogrim asks Jezda and Eltharion.

“Yeah, right when we arrived, Drez there healed us both.  He says it’s lucky he got us in time.  Let me tell you, I’d agree with him,” Eltharion rubs his head a little.

“What happened after we left?” Jezda asked.  Ogrim explained the statues and the petrifying breath of the metallic-bull creature.

“Guess we didn’t miss much,” Eltharion reasons.  They all nod in agreement.

Everyone is given a beautiful stateroom.  Bink and Grog are restored and disoriented, but they quickly get over it.  Butlers cater to (nearly) their every whim.  Grog and Jezda get turned down for some roasted badger, but that’s about it.  They are given nice silk clothes to wear while in the castle (wielding weapons and armor is technically illegal inside, but the king is pretty lenient).  

“This stuff feels nice.  I’m gonna wear it everywhere now,” Grog’s statement brings a collective groan from the party.

They are bathed and fed, and soon a runner summons them to a large meeting chamber.  A big circular table is inside, and the Heroes take their seats around the King and some other people they haven’t seen.

“Let me formally introduce my personal knights.  This is Adlai Stormseal, my knight-wizard.  Felix Stromdak, sharpshooter extraordinaire.  Brolin Flystrigth, master of the bow.  Grunge Hacker, the brawn.  And finally, Gordon McDale, the leader of the knights.” Wallace points to each one in succession.  Adlai is a half-elf, pretty built, long brownish hair.  Felix is a tall human, with short black hair.  Brolin is shorter, and more wiry.  Grunge is huge, muscled, and imposing.  Gordon looks very suave and handsome.

“Good to meet you all.  I’m Bink, this is Grog, Jezda, Eltharion and Ogrim,” Bink states.  “We’ve heard your names before.  You’re council members of the Adventurer’s Guildhall, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we are,” Adlai says.  “There’s a few things that you need to know about, that’s why we’ve called you here.  I’m going to be going over current events and the Dark Tides.”

“We’ve heard of that too…” the party groans.

“First, I’m going to help clarify some things for you.  A few months back, Drez, Zenziez and a bunch of adventurers showed up in the castle via that teleporting device.  The gnomes elected to stay here and study the machine, helping us whenever they could.  The adventurers ended up uncovering that our house wizard was actually evil.  They all went their own ways shortly after.  The paladin of the group went to slay some evil green dragon down in the Tormyr forest, named Drelhornsdrathdin.  A priest, lizardman, and elf went off west to attend to his church.  The half-dwarf; mul, is what it’s called, went to train under a great weaponmaster.  We hear he was killed.”  Adlai pauses briefly.

“We… saw his body.  Dendybar Retari, the assassin, killed him,” Bink stated.

“Anyway, we held a great meeting, calling in people from all over the continent to talk about the Dark Tide.  I don’t know exactly what you already know about it, but here it is in a nutshell: evil is banding together.  We have to work to stop it.  We have heard about a large cult gathering at a temple to the east.  But, more pressing, on an island off the eastern coast, all manner of giants have teamed up.  They are building a massive bridge across the gorge, obviously with plans to use it to mount an attack.” Adlai says.  He continues, “Attacking the bridge would do no good, as they could rebuild.  We need to hit them where it hurts.  They have a stronghold in the mountains, and I believe, with yours and the gnomes’ help, we can get you all in, attack them, and get out.  That’s why we teleported you here.”  Adlai nods, proud of his plan.

“You want us to take on a whole stronghold full of giants?” Eltharion looks skeptical.  Grog looks nervous.  Ogrim looks excited.

“Let’s break some kneecaps!” Ogrim nods.

“All right…” the rest of the party reluctantly agrees.

“Wow, a decision that soon?  You don’t have to decide right away, if you don’t want to.  Think about it,” Adlai, the king, and the others excuse themselves.  “Make yourselves at home!”

The Heroes go back to the common area near their rooms.

“Can we handle all those giants?” Eltharion asks.

“Sure we can,” Ogrim states.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.  Trek, The Necromancer, Senman and Damaré owe us.  They said that if we ever needed them, they’d be here for us.  Well, why don’t we call in the favor, and have them help us siege the giants?” Bink’s idea brings a few wicked smiles from the group.

“With them, I believe we’d be able to handle the giants,” Eltharion grins.

The party talks to the deep gnomes.

“We need you to teleport a few more people here.  Can you do it?” Bink asks.

“Sure, just give us a good description of each one so that I can scry them, then we can get them here,” Drez answers.

After a lot of scrying, blue light flashing, teleporting, explaining, raised voices, interrupted meals, and other such chaos, the four generals are present.  Bink explains their plan to them.

“You want us to help you kill a bunch of giants?  That’s a lot of huge corpses…” The Necromancer grins with glee.

“Sure, we’ll help you.  But this will count as your debt repaid,” Damaré states.

“Fine by us.  We’re definitely going to need the help,” Bink replies.

The party prepares for a few days, getting everything in order and training.  They gather in the laboratory, filling up the now-cramped space.  

“Okay, we’re going to teleport all nine of you to somewhere outside this giant stronghold.  Take these,” Drez hands out a simple iron ring to everyone.  “Once per day, you can use this to _send_ me a message.  Please do so only if you need me to teleport you all home.  Are you ready?”

“Just do it already,” Grog is psyching himself up.

“All right, hold still,” Drez and Zenziez begin to concentrate on the device, manipulating the handles.  A blue light flashes from the center crystal, and the Heroes’ vision fades into the ethereal realm; misty and grey.  Finally, their vision snaps back into view.

What do they see?  Where are they, exactly?  How many giant zombies can one man control?  Stay frosty everyone, more posts on the way!


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## Droid101 (Sep 16, 2004)

In a flash of bright blue light, they are outdoors.  The sun is bright.  It’s been a while since any of them had actually seen it.  They look around.  Only Eltharion, Ogrim, The Necromancer and Damaré are present.  About 20 feet away on the open grasslands, they see the body of a large reptilian creature.  Next to it is a huge, 40 foot tall lizard-thing standing on two legs, with a big head, razor teeth, and little arms.  There are four humans around it with primitive looking spears.  The big lizard leans down and bites down onto one of the humans, lifting him into the air and shaking his body back and forth violently.  Ogrim, Eltharion and Damaré charge.  The Necromancer blasts the thing with a _lightning bolt_, scorching its leathery skin.

“Get back!” Eltharion yells at the humans, who look a little confused, but back away defensively as the Heroes charge.  The lizard bends down and bites into Ogrim, crunching his shield and fine mithril armor (give to him by the dwarves).  He is lifted up into the air, as the beast chomps down on him several times.  Blood sprays everywhere.

“No!” Eltharion lays into the lizard with a fast four-hit combination with his flaming and sylvan scimitars, each hit drawing a line of blood from the thing’s legs.  Damaré does a flip, extending his chain in a somersault pattern, slamming it into the creature’s upper leg and raking it back.

The Necromancer _hastes_ himself and turns himself _invisible_.  The great lizard chomps on Ogrim some more, who desperately tries to escape the thing’s massive jaws.  The razor-sharp teeth dig into Ogrim at a dozen angles.  Eltharion and Damaré dig into the things legs some more, both dealing massive damage, but not enough to bring the thing down.

Ogrim, battered and bloody, is getting nowhere trying to pry himself from the jaws of the beast.  He pulls out a dagger and jams it into the roof of its mouth.  The beast roars loudly and drops him to the ground… 30 feet down.

Chanting can be heard, the voice of The Necromancer.  An evil rash boils to the surface on the lizards head, and it roars in pain.  Eltharion and Damaré successfully flank the beast, dealing another combination of effective attacks.  Ogrim staggers to his feet, takes up the ancient dwarven defensive stalwart stance, and hacks into the lizard with his Orc-Killer axe.  He severs the thing’s ankle tendon, sending it face first into the grass with a loud thump.  Eltharion jumps on top of its head, stabbing down into its eyes and brain, splintering the skull and drawing a spray of blood.  Eltharion sheathes his weapons and summons some healing power to cure Ogrim.  Ogrim tries to heal himself, but doesn’t feel the presence of Moradin.

“Something’s not right,” Ogrim states, concerned.

“What is it?” Eltharion asked.  Damaré was cleaning off his chain, and The Necromancer appeared nearby.

“I don’t feel Moradin.  I don’t feel me God,” he was shaking his head slowly.  Eltharion patted him on the back.

“We’ll figure it out.  Hey, you!” Eltharion yelled out to the humans who, after staying back, had closed in on the beast and were skinning it.  “Where are we?”

The humans looked at each other for a moment, and then one spoke.  “Trib i nrerbi.”  He pointed off in one direction.

“What?” Eltharion asked.

“I think he said that their tribe is nearby,” The Necromancer points out.  The humans go about their business skinning the two beasts.

“So, where is everybody else, do you think?” Damaré asks.

“I hope they’re not too far away.  You think these people know where the giant’s stronghold is?” Eltharion asks back.

“Hm… why would Ogrim’s connection to Moradin be severed all of a sudden?” The Necromancer questions, mostly to himself.

The men are still skinning, when Eltharion joins them.  He is skilled in the ways of survival, and skins effectively and efficiently.  They get the meat chopped up and load it onto grass-like mats with ropes attached, to be pulled back to their village.

“Oo con wirth os?” one of the men asks.

“Huh?” Eltharion doesn’t understand.

“He’s asking if we would like to go with him, back to his village, I presume,” The Necromancer translates.  The Heroes nod, and help the men carry the meat back to the village, which is almost a half day’s travel away.  The sun is blisteringly hot, and the terrain is open grasslands.  Finally, they reach the village and are escorted to the center of it.  An older man with elaborate necklaces and deeply tanned skin approaches.  The Necromancer translates what the other Heroes can’t understand.  (For simplicity.)

“Welcome to our tribe.  We are called the Dizgurds.  What is your business, strangers?” he asks.

“We have come in search of giant men.  Large men, like three of me,” Eltharion says.

“More like four…” Damaré quips, drawing a frown from Eltharion.

The chief takes a moment to try to understand what Eltharion said.  He does, and nods his head.

“Giant men live at base of mountain,” he points, and a small range of mountains can be seen off in the distance.  “But your task, more important.  You are the tribe that shines.”

“Tribe that what?” Eltharion is confused.  He looks at everyone.  The Necromancer’s staff is glowing.  Eltharion’s scimitars are glowing green/aflame, and Ogrim’s axe is glowing.  “Oh, yeah, we have magical items.  Magic, you know?”

“I don’t know that word, but you shine, as our prophecy states,” the man says, directing them to his tent.  Inside, a large slab is in the corner.  It reads, in the primitive common tongue:  

_When the tribe that shines arrives, they will place three pieces of the glow on the ancient pedestal atop the peak of the sky.  Paradise will come true._​
“We’re supposed to do what now?” Eltharion asks.

“You must take the Glow to the Peak of the Sky,” the chief once again points to the mountain.

“What’s ‘The Glow’?” Eltharion asks.

“Strange stones.”

“Where are they?”

“Giants have one.  Snake men have one.  One is in insect forest,” the chief points off in the distance again, south of the mountains.

“Okay… well, if it’s okay with you, we would like to camp near your tribe.  We can offer protection from those beasts,” Eltharion says.  The chief agrees, and the Heroes find a nice spot away from the tents.  

“So, do we hit the giants?” Eltharion asks.

“I’m not so sure about this place.  Something seems off,” The Necromancer replies.

“I’m using the ring,” Damaré says, using the ring that Drez had given him.  “I get nothing.  No response.  Didn’t he say that he’d respond, or teleport us home?”

“Obviously, he can’t, for some reason,” The Necromancer shakes his head.

“How about we go south to that forest of insects, then to the snake people, then to the giants, and finally, climb the peak?” Eltharion’s plan of action seems as good as any.

“Fine by me.  Let’s get a move on.  Hopefully we’ll run into the rest of the group when we get to the giants,” The Necromancer says.

They camp out under the stars that night, and awake early in the morning, ready for action.

Why can’t people talk right?  What do they mean by snake people?  What’s so scary about a bunch of insects?  This and more, next update.


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## the Jester (Sep 17, 2004)

Cool start!

I like the way you get things moving.  Cool stuff- seems like a pretty high-level hackfest ensues quite a bit!


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## Droid101 (Sep 17, 2004)

the Jester said:
			
		

> Cool start!
> 
> I like the way you get things moving.  Cool stuff- seems like a pretty high-level hackfest ensues quite a bit!



Yes... my players are really more of "hack first, figure it out later" sorta people.  A lot of times there is tons of mystery and intrigue right under their noses, and they don't even realize it.  They're "blissfully ignorant," I'd say.


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## Droid101 (Sep 17, 2004)

The party gets up in the morning and starts traveling southeast toward this “Forest of Insects” that they’ve been told about.  “The Glow” is supposed to be there, and it’s supposed to make “paradise come true” when they collect all three.

“So what do you think will happen?” Damaré asks Ogrim.

“I’m hopin’ it brings Moradin back…” Ogrim’s connection to his deity was still cut off.

The Heroes travel quickly.  Sparse trees are dotted along the mostly open and rolling hills of the grasslands.  A large form emerges from behind one of the trees and charges at them.  Eltharion notices it coming from behind them, and alerts the others.  The Necromancer casts _chill touch_, and Eltharion, Damaré and Ogrim get ready to surround the creature when it gets close.

It stops about 20 feet away and spits at them.  It looks a lot like the tyrannosaurus rex that they fought the previous day, but only about ten feet tall, and its head it long and tube-like.  The spit hits Ogrim, who watches part of his armor and skin bubble and burn.  The party charges.  The Necromancer curses, and charges in as well, touching the digester, and filling it with cold necromantic energies.  It squalks in pain.

The rest of the party makes short work of it.  Less than ten seconds later, it is dead; a multitude of cuts, scrapes, stabs and slashes bring it down fast.  The party continues on.

After a day of travel, they camp near a few trees.  Eltharion runs to the top of the highest nearby hill and sees the forest that they are going to.  

“We’re on the right track.  We should be there by mid-day tomorrow,” Eltharion explains.

The next day, Ogrim prays in the morning, but again gets no response.  This is very disconcerting.

The Heroes travel for about two hours, when Eltharion spots a group of creatures heading toward the forest as well, but coming from further east.  Their paths will cross if they keep going.

“Everyone, get down,” Eltharion says, and the others comply.  While on the ground, The Necromancer casts _invisibility_ and vanishes.  Ogrim and Damaré try to see what Eltharion sees.  Eltharion lifts his head up a little to see if they have been spotted.  It looks like the creatures have turned their course and are coming at the Heroes.  Eltharion casts _barkskin_ and gets up, sylvan and flaming scimitars drawn.  Damaré and Ogrim likewise get up, spreading out to avoid getting surrounded.  The Necromancer is nowhere to be seen.

As the shapes get closer, they see three large snakes with arms.  They are about seven feet tall, walking (slithering) upright, carrying great iron scimitars.  The final shape is huge.  A triceratops with a human riding it, but the human has a snake-like tail, flexible torso, and a longbow at the ready.  He fires, striking Ogrim’s shield.  The Heroes charge.

Eltharion closes in on one of the snake-men abominations.  He slices into it with his flaming scimitar, drawing  a streak of blood and burn.  Damaré attacks another abomination, twisting his spiked chain around its blade, pulling it free and flinging it away.  Ogrim, jaw set, charges the triceratops.  As he does, the dinosaur spikes him with its horn, which slices into his flank.  He grits his teeth and slams the side of its head with his Orc-Killer axe.  The last abomination’s skin starts to rot, blister, burn and peel.  The Necromancer appears right next to it, his finger discharging evil and necromantic energies into the thing.  It hisses in pain, slicing its great scimitar down; it passes right through the Necromancer, his _cloak of displacement_ working successfully.  

The abomination fighting Eltharion slashes hard with its great scimitar, cutting into Eltharion’s leg.  The one on Damaré closes in to try to claw him, but Damaré quickly spins his chain and tries to trip the thing, but it grabs the chain and pulls Damaré down instead.  It jumps on top of him and claws into his bare back.  The yuan-ti snake man on the back of the triceratops fires another two arrows down at Ogrim, but he deflects them both easily with his shield.  He then stamps his feet down, entering the ancient dwarven defensive stance.  Locked in place, he chops into the triceratops’ head twice, landing two powerful blows.  The triceratops flails its head wildly, the spike on its nose slashing Ogrim across the chest, drawing a painful grunt.

The Necromancer casts _vampiric touch _ and drains all the life away from the abomination he is engaging, killing it.  Its skin shrivels and blackens, and its energy invigorates The Necromancer, who then moves over to Eltharion and casts _haste_ on him.  Eltharion uses this to great effect, slicing and cutting through the abomination near him.  Damaré hops to his feet, spinning his chain around and slicing the abomination on him twice.  Ogrim knocks aside two more arrows and a horn slash from the trike, slamming back into it with his axe twice; hearing the bone crack underneath the tough hide.

The Necromancer knocks into the abomination with his skull-topped staff.  Eltharion, after another five scimitar strikes, takes the thing down.  Damaré has a back-and-forth with the other one, but Eltharion and The Necromancer get there and help finish it off.  They then surround the triceratops.

The archer on top takes aim and fires at Damaré, but he quickly dives out of the way, swinging his chain and striking the rider, enwrapping its leg, and dragging him off the hulking triceratops.  He hits the ground with a thud, where Damaré rakes his chain across him.  Ogrim takes the brunt of the triceratops swinging head, blocking it with his shield.  Damaré finishes the rider, and he and the other Heroes lay into the trike.  With minimal damage, they are able to down it.  It falls in a heap after a final blow from Ogrim’s mighty axe.  They clean their weapons and examine the bodies.

“These must be those snake-people the Dizgurd tribe was talking about,” Eltharion reasoned.

“Hey, found something,” Damaré stated, lifting a pie-slice shaped green glowing object.  It looked like a large crystal.

“I think we just found our first part of ‘The Glow’,” The Necromancer says, examining the crystal.  “Maybe the snake people were coming here to get the other piece.  Maybe they were going to try to activate whatever is on the top of ‘the Peak of the Sky’.”

“Good thing we stopped ‘em,” Ogrim nods.

“Hey… Necromancer.  Can I ask you a question?” Eltharion asks as they start walking toward the forest.

“Go ahead,” The Necromancer seems a little confused.

“What kind of creature is that skull on your staff?” Eltharion asks, “It’s not quite big enough to be human, I’m guessing.  It’s not an… elf… is it?”

“Ha, actually, it _is_ an elf.  But don’t be alarmed, it’s actually a _dark_ elf skull,” The Necromancer muses.

“Really!  Oh wow, that’s awesome.  I think you may be my new best friend,” Eltharion is almost giddy.

The party continues southward, the forest quickly coming into view.  After another hour, the trees have grown far more dense, as have the insects in the air.

“_Repel insects_… why didn’t I think of that,” Eltharion shakes his head slowly, slapping away a few mosquitoes.

“So… where should we look?” The Necromancer asks.

“Good question.  They didn’t really give us any information, did they?” Damaré answers.

They continue to walk south; the forest isn’t that dense, but the insects are.  Ants are covering several trees, and many large anthill-type earthen structures are seen.

“Eck, I just stepped on a scorpion,” Damaré looks at his foot.

“Hey, there sure are a lot of scorpions all of a sudden…” Eltharion looks around, seeing little scorpions all around them, scuttling around.  Some loud thumping can be heard.  Trees can be seen toppling over.  A *gargantuan* scorpion plows through toward the party.  Two smaller (but still bigger than the Heroes) scorpions flank it, joining the fray.

The main one is over 40 feet long, almost 6 foot long pincers.  The two on either side of it are about eight feet long each.  The Heroes take up defensive positions.

How much damage can three little (gigantic) scorpions do?  Are the Heroes in serious trouble?  Are Eltharion and The Necromancer friends forever?  This and much more, next update!


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## Kodam (Sep 20, 2004)

Hi!

Very nice to read.    Looking forward how this turns out...

Kodam


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## Droid101 (Sep 20, 2004)

Kodam said:
			
		

> Hi!
> 
> Very nice to read.    Looking forward how this turns out...
> 
> Kodam



Thanks for reading.  Don't hesitate to ask about anything you don't understand, or want clarified!


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## Droid101 (Sep 20, 2004)

Something is embedded in the largest scorpion’s chitin, just above its eyes.  A red-glowing crystal.  Much like the one they have…

“Kill it!  The crystal is in its head!” The Necromancer exclaims, before casting _haste_ and then an _extended improved invisibility _ and vanishes from sight.

“You two, the small ones.  I’ve got the big one…” Ogrim steps up, setting himself into the dwarven defensive stance, using his _staff of defense_, he invokes a _shield of law_, which surrounds him with a myriad of perfectly geometric force-shapes.

Damaré and Eltharion follow their orders fast, each one charging toward and engaging one of the eight foot scorpions.  Each one stings at them as they approach, but they both are too fleet of foot, and dodge easily.  Eltharion slices into the things pincers, cracking chitin and exoskeleton, sylvan and flaming scimitars tasting bug-flesh.  Damaré rakes the thing with his spiked chain.

The gargantuan scorpion approaches Ogrim.  Its stinger moves with unearthly speed, slamming down into him hard, his practiced defensive stance the only thing keeping him standing.  The stinger itself is like a perfectly sharpened adamantium blade.  It slices through his armor easily, delivering its poison liberally.  And what a poison!  Ogrim, usually stalwart against poison, disease, or sickness of any kind, can feel it instantly.  His muscles burn, and he can feel them growing weak.  So difficult to hold up his weapon and shield.  He does so, however, and strikes the thing in the face.  The weakened axe hit barely pierces the thing’s defenses.

Eltharion and Damaré make short work of the smaller scorpions, and approach the big one.  Eltharion dashes over to Ogrim in an attempt to _slow_ the poison, but gets a stinger in the side for his efforts.  Never the most stout of elves to begin with, the poison fills his body and he finds it difficult to stand.  He slows the poison in Ogrim, and brings his weapons to bear.  Damaré closes in from the opposite side, hoping to flank the thing.  He rakes it with his chain, doing considerable damage.

On top of the scorpion, a flash of dark bluish energy flashes and the thing shudders.  Then, the scorpion acts.  It snaps a huge pincer at both Eltharion and Ogrim, cutting through armor, skin, sinew, and bone.  The insect was strong, too strong.  Both could feel the life pouring from them, their blood trickling over the tiny little scorpions on the ground beneath their feet.  The stinger strikes Damaré, his muscles going weak from the poison, and the stab wound sends him to his knees.  He staggers back to his feet, barely able to swing his chain at all.

Eltharion stabs the thing with his scimitars, but with little effect.  He’s far too weak to penetrate the vermin’s extra-tough exoskeleton.  Ogrim hacks into it as well, drawing a small wound.  Eltharion feels something touch his shoulder.

“You’re invisible; let’s kill this damn thing!” The Necromancer yells from behind him.

The scorpion ripped into Ogrim this time, both claws tearing into his body, nearly ripping him in half.  His ancient dwarven defensive training keeps him alive.  Damaré gets another stinger; the wound not too bad, but the poison sears his insides.

“This chain is so… heavy… ugh…” and Damaré collapses under his own weight, unable to support himself with his muscles burning so.

Ogrim then feels a touch on his shoulder as well.

“Tear this thing apart,” The Necromancer says.

Now that everyone is invisible, dispatching the creature becomes rather easy.  With _chill touches _ and _vampiric touches _ from The Necromancer, expert cuts from Eltharion, and weakened, but still effective, axe hits with Orc-Killer, the party manages to down the gargantuan scorpion.  Eltharion climbs on top and hacks out the red glowing crystal.

“Looks like we’ve got two pieces of ‘The Glow’ now,” The Necromancer states.  “One to go.”

“Ogrim, don’t move,” Eltharion heals Ogrim with the rest of his spells, and helps him to sit.  “I can feel that poison isn’t done with us yet.  Let me tend to us, so it doesn’t spread.”

Eltharion breaks out his herbal kit and applies bandages, salves, herbs, and other concoctions to both his, Ogrim, and Damaré’s limp form.  It does no good.  All three of them feel the burn continue, and are soon too weak to move.  The Necromancer clears a space around them from insects, and tries to let them rest.

“If you can still hear me, and I think you can, I’m going to try to set up camp here or something,” The Necromancer states, as he prepares a couple of spells from his books.  Using a few _cantrips_ he’s able to keep the area free of bugs and relatively quiet.  They wait…

The next morning, everyone awakes.  Eltharion, Damaré and Ogrim can hardly move.  Barely able to lift his arms, Eltharion prepares his spells for the day.  He is able to make them all a little bit stronger with the use of a few _lesser restorations_, but they are far from perfect.  They take their newly acquired crystal and leave the forest of insects.  They head toward the “Peak of the Sky” where the giants are said to be.

Travel is pretty tough, as most of them are still weakened considerably from the scorpion’s poison.  They manage, however, and the next day, Eltharion is able to heal them all some more.  One more half-day’s travel, and they should reach the small mountain, and they should be back at full strength.

The following day, around noon, they approach the steep hill that leads to the mountain.  They see a large building where the hill becomes more cliff-like.  Several forms are seen atop it, and a huge boulder lands next to them with a thud, bouncing down the hill.  They see a couple more boulders flying toward them.  The Heroes bolt toward the building.

The Necromancer casts _haste_ and _invisibility_ on himself and is gone.  Ogrim, Eltharion, and Damaré charge up the hill, dodging (or not) rocks that are being hurled at them from the now visible walled encampment.  Eltharion gets grazed by a boulder, as does Ogrim, but both grit their teeth and continue to charge.  Eltharion reaches the wall and continues to run; up it, with aid from his _slippers of spider climbing_.  Ogrim and Damaré reach the large wooden doorway and begin to hack into it, trying to break it down.

Eltharion gets to the top of the wall and hears an arcane incantation from above him, in The Necromancer’s voice.  He sees two giants atop the wall with piles of rocks, getting ready to drop them on Damaré and Ogrim.  However, a wave of evil and terrifying energies rolls past Eltharion and over the giants, who drop their rocks and run.  One of them climbs down a ladder to get off the wall, but the other just jumps, too scared to wait.  The Necromancer appears above Eltharion.

“Run away, timid ones… run away…” The Necromancer grins in evil glee.

One final chop, and Ogrim breaks a large enough hole in the large door, and squeezes in.  He gets a huge rock in the head for his trouble.  Inside, three giants stand, waiting to pound whatever came through the door.  They all hold large sticks with rocks tied to the ends.  One of them is a bit broader than the others, and wears a strange skin headdress.

“Damn giants, hope yer ready for Moradin’s wrath!” Ogrim chops into the large one’s ankle, drawing blood and a loud yell from the giant.  Damaré slinks in as well, taking a rock-stick-hit to the shoulder, dislocating it.  He groans in pain, but manages to swing his chain and cut into one of the giants.

Eltharion comes flying in from the other side, having climbed down the ladder, and slams into the chief giant as well, on the other side of Ogrim.  He cuts small lines of blood into the things calves and quads.  The giant swings his rock-stick, but Ogrim’s dwarven heritage trained him to avoid such lackluster attacks, and he simply ducks underneath.  The other two giants swing at Damaré and Eltharion respectively, each connecting.  Eltharion staggers from the hit, and Damaré falls to a knee, but gets back up quickly.

The Necromancer can be seen casting _improved invisibility _ on himself from above.  He vanishes, and then one of the smaller giants screams in pain, the top of his head blisters and peels; evil necromantic energies flow into him, and his life-force flows out.  Damaré takes that as his queue and rakes into the things legs with his chain.  The giant drops his stick and falls to his knees, then onto his face, motionless.

“You handle the big one, Ogrim!” Eltharion exclaims, as he rushes to the other giant, surrounding it with Damaré.  Ogrim ducks under the giant’s legs and cuts into its knee tendons.  The perfect hit severs them, and send the leader to his hands and knees.  Ogrim doesn’t waste time; he takes a few quick steps and chops across the thing’s now-exposed neck, spilling gallons of blood, and it collapses.

Eltharion and Damaré work in perfect unison, distracting, harrying, and injuring the final giant.  Ogrim comes in from the side and smashes the giant on the foot with his axe.  The giant drops his stick and hops on one foot.  Damaré wraps his chain around the hopping leg, and while Eltharion stabs into its heel, Damaré pulls, bringing the giant down.

“Nice teamwork,” Eltharion slaps Damaré on the back, and Damaré does likewise.  The Necromancer appears, flying above them.  He lands.

“Good job.  But for some reason, I don’t think that these are the giants who are building that huge bridge to the mainland.  These guys are using sticks with rocks tied to them.  I doubt they could build anything…” The Necromancer explains.

“True enough, but let’s find the last stone and head to the top of the mountain.  I want to see what this is all about,” Ogrim states, searching the pouch of the chief giant.

He finds the last glowing crystal, this one is blue.

“I hope these bring back Moradin, wherever he is…” Ogrim takes the stones and places them in a sack.

The Heroes don’t waste time looking for the two runaway giants.  They head to the cliffs and start ascending.  Not by conventional means, of course.  The Necromancer casts fly on everyone, and they head up the face of the mountain.  After a short (less than an hour) flight, they reach the top of the small mountain.  They land on a small flattened space.  Several standing stones are around, and in the center there is a rock with three indentations.  The indentations are exactly the same shape as the three stones they carry.  Eltharion notices a small viper slithering nearby, along with a goat hopping from stone to stone, below.

“I guess this is it.  Let’s put the stones in,” Ogrim states, producing the stones.

“I’m going to try to use the ring again…” Damaré concentrates for a moment.  He hears nothing.  “I wonder why the rings aren’t working.”  This draws a shrug from the party.

“I kinda like the name ‘Tribe that Shines,’ should be call ourselves that?” Eltharion asks.

“No.” The party answers in unison, and Ogrim places the stones in.  The earth seems to reverberate, and a bright white light begins to pour from the sky, enveloping all of them.  The viper slithers up to Eltharion’s foot before the light becomes too bright to see.  In a bright flash, everything is black.

What happened!?!  Why would I stop writing right now, just to annoy you?  Is that snake as bad as you all (including the Heroes) think it is?  These and other important questions shall be addressed next time.


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## Droid101 (Sep 21, 2004)

The flash is gone, and darkness surrounds them.  Must be night-time.  Rock and rubble is beneath their feet.  That snake slithers a few feet away from them, and slowly transforms…

“Grab it!” Eltharion, Damaré, Ogrim and The Necromancer all dash at the changing creature.  They grab onto it, holding it tight.  It changes into a…

…girl?  Maybe in her twenties.  Short, black hair.  Something in her eyes, however…

“Let me go!” she exclaims.

“You followed us through… whatever that was.  Who are you?” Eltharion asks.

“I am… Misani,” her speech is a little off, but fairly easy to understand.

“And why did you follow us?” The Necromancer says.

“Let me go so I can explain, I’m not going to hurt you…” she says, almost defeated.

“Fine, but we’re watching you,” Eltharion says, slowly backing away, letting her free.

“I grew up in the Dizgurd tribe.  You know it?” Misani says.

“Yes, we stopped by there, they told us we were the Tribe that Shines!” Eltharion says excitedly; the rest of the party rolls their eyes.

“Well, the snake people, yuan-tis, kidnapped me.  They performed all sorts of strange rituals and magics on me.  Soon after I was… different.  I could change.  I was, tainted…” she pauses, shaking her head.

“That’s terrible…” Eltharion says.

“Anyway, the leader of the snake people got word that their glowing stone was stolen, so they sent me to the peak to see what happens, and be there when the stones were placed.  The only reason I complied was to get away from them.  I never want to see those snake things again,” Misani explains.

“Well, this looks nothing like where we were, so maybe you won’t ever see them again,” The Necromancer looks around, cautiously.

“We’ll let you tag along with us for the time being, but the minute you become a nuisance, you’re gone,” Eltharion says.

“I’ll stay out of your way…” she says, slowly.

During their interrogation, a few dwarves (!) approached, having come out of an excavation tunnel nearby.

“Hey!  Dwarfkind!  Why do you travel with those evilbloods?” one of the dwarves asks, presumably to Ogrim.

“They are friends.  Where are we?” Ogrim responds curtly.

“Hm… I suppose so… what clan are you in?” the dwarf asks.

“Oakenshield,” Ogrim responds.

“Oakenshield??  I know all six of them, and you aint one.” The dwarf responds harshly.

“Six?  What’d ye say?” Ogrim asks, a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, Jendu, Greynar, Helvist, Thevin, Jorna, and Kilean,” the dwarf lists.

Ogrim pauses a moment.  His stoic look betrays his inner shock.

“Greynar… was the first Oakenshield…” Ogrim starts, “over 5000 years ago was the clan conceived…”

“Whuh…” Eltharion and Damaré are dumb-struck.  The Necromancer ponders the situation.

“So, in other words, we’re 5000 years… back in time?  Where the heck were we before?” The Necromancer’s face grows alarmed.

“My kin, can ye tell me of Moradin?” Ogrim asks the dwarves.

“Aye, he came about 200 years ago, along with the other deity-beings.  That’s when the elves, dwarves, and others were born as well.  Our historian-scribe says that the ‘Glowing Clan’ set the pieces and created the Gods.  The process leveled the mountain the pieces were place atop.  We’re walking on the rubble of that very mountain right now.  Must’ve been dwarves; who else could be credited with such a deed?” the dwarf explains.

Eltharion looks star-struck.  His eyes glaze over with pride beaming.

“I created the Gods!” Eltharion states.

“Shut up,” Damaré slaps him on the arm.

“So we just traveled 200 years in the future, after placing the stones,” The Necromancer fumbles.

“Ye… ye did what?  Yer comin’ to see the high priest!” the dwarf states, and motions for them to follow.  The Heroes don’t even pause.  They need answers, and badly.

Are the Heroes trapped in time, forever?  Where are Grog, Jezda, Trek-Donal, Senman, and Bink?  In another time?  Another place?  How can they possibly get home!?  Find all the answers, next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Sep 22, 2004)

The Heroes are taken down some tunnels.  Dark rock and simple excavation techniques were used; hardly the work of Dardenkidin, where Ogrim hails from.  They follow the two dwarves for a few minutes and are led into a small cavern with an altar and statue of Moradin.  A robed dwarf approaches.

“These evilbloods, and this dwarf, say that they placed the stones to awaken the Gods!” the dwarf says.

“Hm, is what he says true?” the priest asks.

“I believe so.  We placed three stones into a pedestal, and after a great flash of light, we were here.  The people there had a prophecy about a ‘Tribe that Shines’ doing exactly that,” The Necromancer explains.

“Yes, our legend tells of a ‘Glowing Clan,’ perhaps they speak of the same thing?” the priest responds.

“Either way, we’re really far from home, and we’d like to know if you have any way to help us get back,” Eltharion interjects.  “We come from like, 5000 years in the future, at least I think.  We gotta find a way back.”

This draws a curious look from the priest, who strokes his beard.  He takes a few paces, then stops.

“I think I may know something that could help you.  When the great cataclysm created the Gods and the races, several holy or magical temples appeared, strewn across the land.  One of them, our records say, is strongly linked to time.  Perhaps if you travel there, you can figure out something that can help you.  That’s all I can think of, I’m afraid,” the priest states.

“Hm…” Ogrim is thoughtful.

“But, if you are going there, there are some things you should know.  The supposed creator of time had several special items linked to his existence.  You should at least know the names of these items, in case that information becomes necessary.  The items are the Armor of Karanthius, the Sword of Jekaintinar, and the Sword of the Maimed Lord.  Use this knowledge well.”

“It’s our only option.  Let’s get going,” Damaré puts.  The Heroes are allowed to rest in an empty cave for the night, and start traveling in the morning, following instructions given to them by the priest.  They travel for a few days in the direction given, across rocky ground and low plains.  The sky is cloudy and dark every day.

“This is definitely a time of trials.  No sun at all…” Ogrim states.  The group presses on.

“Getting a read on Moradin?” Eltharion asks.

“Yes, I feel a connection,” Ogrim responds.

“Looks like there weren’t any Gods where we were before, they just hadn’t been created yet,” The Necromancer reasons.  Nobody disagrees.

After almost a week of dead-looking rocky flatlands, they reach a huge rocky outcropping that matches the description given by the priest.  As they approach they see a small cavernous entrance.  They go inside without hesitation.

“Be on yer guard,” Ogrim states, readying his Orc-Killer axe and shield.  Everyone else gets out their weapons as well.

The tunnel is about ten feet high and ten feet wide, and they proceed with caution.  After about fifty feet, the light from the outside is all but gone, and they reach a large iron door, blocking the entire passage.  With some effort they break it loose and push it open slowly.  Inside the door, they find that the walls are finely carved and shaped.  They go into and out of what seem like ‘rooms,’ but they’re all completely bare stone.  After a little searching of dead end tunnels, they find a staircase leading down.  They proceed.

At the bottom of the stairs, there is a passage left and right.  They go right, and turn right again, and it turns into a large room, dimly lit by a glowing pedestal.  Before the pedestal, however, is a bunch of stepping stones with letters on them.  The pedestal has a glowing sword on it.  The letters are arranged as follows (the characters are at the top, pedestal would be at the bottom):  

A  E  R  O  G  A  K  J  S
R  M O  L   F  M  A E W
D  O N  D  O  U  L  E  O
I    R O  F  N   E  S  T   R
N   I  A  K  E  J   F  O  D
T   A R  A  E  H  T  F   S
I    N L  O  M  D  A  M  A
N  T  H  I   A  H   T   O  I
A  L  F  U  I  M  E  D  M
R  I  U  S  D  R  O  L  E

“What in the world…” The Necromancer looks perplexed.

“We could go back, there was another way…” Damaré starts, but is cut off.

“Here, I’ll try this,” Ogrim _summons_ a celestial dog.  It hops onto the first “A” square, and seems unharmed.  Ogrim motions for it to move over to the “E” square.  It does so, and a huge rectangular-cubed shaped block falls from the ceiling, and at the same time, the block below the dog falls down into darkness.  The block from the ceiling replaces the “E” block, so it seems as though nothing occurred.

“So, we can only step on certain blocks and remain safe…” Ogrim surmises.  “The dog stepped on the “A” and was fine.  We just need to spell out ‘Armor of Jekaintinar.’  It’s so simple,” Ogrim walks out onto the “A,” then the “R.”  The blocks maintain position.

“See?” Ogrim follows right to the O, up to R, then right to O…

…and falls.  The block from above perfectly replaces the block below.  Damaré’s eyes widen.

“I’m going after him!” Damaré yells, and he jumps onto the same O, and falls in exactly the same way.  The Necromancer and Misani follow after.  Eltharion looks frantically for a another solution.

…………..

Crashing stone, thundering cracks, and intense pain.  Ogrim is partially buried under rocky rubble.  He throws the rocks off and finally gets to his feet.  He hears hissing, like snakes, from behind him.  He turns to see what it is…

………….

Eltharion finally gives up.  “Here goes…” He jumps onto the “G” and falls in the same way.  After a crash and possibly a broken arm, he stumbles to his feet.  He hears hissing, and through the dim light of his flaming scimitar, he sees a statue of Ogrim standing right next to him.  He instantly closes his eyes.

“Wonderful…” Eltharion says under his breath, making his way toward the hissing noise, swinging his scimitar as he does so.  He feels his scimitar strike something, and a slight groan is heard… a woman’s voice.

The woman’s voice continues, however, some kind of arcane chanting.  

…………..

Eltharion opens his eyes; the sun is bright.  He looks around, seeing two men and two women, all very tall, with blue auras surrounding them.  To his left, one of the women is touching the statue of Ogrim, returning him to flesh.  She moves on to Damaré, The Necromancer, and Misani, returning them all to flesh.

“Was I stone, too?” Eltharion asks.

“Yes, you all were.  My name is Jerik.  These are my friends, Mansin, Lani and Jane,” the brown haired human says.

“Eltharion.  This is Ogrim, Damaré, Nekky, and Misani,” Eltharion points to each one.

“Don’t call me Nekky…” The Necromancer mumbles.

The humans’ clothing is very odd.  They have strange looking metal things on their hips.  Like small crossbows or something.

“Why… what’s going on?” Eltharion asks.

“Let me explain.  We read an ancient prophecy.  In that prophecy, it said, basically, that we had to come to this ancient ‘Temple of Time’ and free the ‘Frozen Ones.’  Once we did that, war in our world was supposed to end.  Once you completed your task, of course,” Jerik explains.  “We’re dying to know what your task is, and of course see if we can help you with it.”

“Ancient temple of time?  I don’t suppose you mean that it is older than 200 years, do you?” The Necromancer asks.

“200 years?  No, it must be thousands of years old.  At least 8000 years.  Maybe more.  Not exactly sure…” Jerik responds.

“Uh oh…” the Heroes look around, confused.

“Can you come into this cave with us?” Damaré asks.

“Actually, we already searched the cave.  At the very bottom level, there is a strange device, that is supposed to allow the user to travel through time.  You need a specific kind of item, however, to let it happen.  You need a psionically charged crystal.  A rare kind, to boot,,” Jerik says.

“Time travel device, that’s just what we need,” The Necromancer states.  “Our task is to get that crystal and travel through time.  Can you help us recover it?”

“Wow, I suppose we can help you.  We’ll take you back to the library in our city.  We can look up the item and it’s past owners, possibly,” Jerik thinks, nodding to the rest of his friends.  “Follow us.”

The Heroes follow them for a minute as they go behind a large copse of trees.  One of the humans takes out a small metal device and presses it, and a large metal bird appears in front of them.  Stairs lead up inside of it.

“This is our transport, we call it the ‘Raven.’  Hope you like it,” Lani explains to them.  Inside are all kinds of glowing buttons, contraptions, and all sorts of other things the Heroes don’t even bother to fathom a guess at their function.

Raven picks up off the ground, as the Heroes can see out of the windows.  It rises up high into the air, and in a flash, instead of being over a lightly forested area, all kinds of strange looking tall buildings are below, with lights everywhere.  Moving metal vehicles fly by in every direction.  The Raven lands and the group proceeds into one of the gargantuan buildings.  Books are everywhere.

“How tall is the tallest building?” Eltharion asks.

“Over 200 stories,” Lani answers.

“Are you saying, 2000 feet?” Eltharion replies.

“Probably closer to 3000, but yes, that tall,” Lani says.  Eltharion is dumb-struck.

The Heroes, helped out by the strange humans, pour over books on ancient artifacts and relics.  Eventually they find the one their looking for.  They look down the listing of the past owners of the item, and the current owner is a man named Kendri Starseal.

“Oh no...” Jerik says.

“What now…” the party groans.

“Kendri Starseal is one of the most powerful businessmen in the world.  It may be difficult to access him…” Jerik looks defeated.

“We’ll think of something…” The Necromancer says, not drawing a whole lot of enthusiasm from the rest of the party.

Can the Heroes find Kendri?  Can they talk to him?  Can they even get his autograph, let alone his relic of power?  This and more, next update!


----------



## Droid101 (Sep 23, 2004)

“This is crazy.  We’ll never pull it off,” Damaré says, looking at his group-mates.  Ogrim, Eltharion and The Necromancer were dressed up in the strange futuristic clothing.

“Listen, Kendri deals with businessmen from other countries all the time.  And the only people who live in other countries are the other races.  So, it stands, that if this elf and this dwarf say they are coming to discuss a business deal, they can sneak into his skyscraper and maybe get past security,” Jerik explains.

“So why is The Necromancer going?” Damaré asks.

“He’s the tallest, he looks like a bodyguard,” Jerik reasons.

“Fine, Misani and I will stay here on board your flying machine,” Damaré is defeated.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back as soon as possible, and with the crystal,” Eltharion says, adjusting his suit.

“Here, take these, it’ll make you look more like a bodyguard,” Jerik gives The Necromancer some black sunglasses, two little crossbow looking things, and a longer metal stick.

“Is this a walking stick?” The Necromancer places it on the ground.

“No!  That’s a laser rifle, and those smaller ones are laser pistols.  Like this, see?” Jerik demonstrates how to handle and fire them.  The Necromancer nods.  

“So this will shoot out unlimited energy?” The Necromancer asks.

“No, shots are limited.  The little ones have more than the big one.  There are even more powerful ones that have even less shots.  Don’t be wasteful; hopefully you won’t have to use it at all, it’s just for show,” Jerik explains.  The Necromancer gives Eltharion and Ogrim each a smaller laser pistol, since they won’t have any of their weapons on them.

The Raven flies them almost instantaneously to a section of the city with even taller buildings, reaching up high into the sky.  Ogrim, Eltharion and The Necromancer exit the ship and head toward a building that says “Starseal Corp.” on the outside.  The doors open automatically.

“Magic…” Ogrim grunts.

“Worse, technology,” The Necromancer says, walking in front of them, acting tough and bodyguardish.

“We’re here to meet with Kendri Starseal about a business proposition from the country of the dwarves,” Ogrim states to the security guard behind the desk.

“I don’t see anybody on my list.  I’m going to have to call up and see about this.  Hold on a moment.  What’s your name?” the guard says.

“Ogrim.  Tell him that this proposal is a once in a lifetime offer,” Ogrim bluffs.  The guard picks up a thing and talks into it.

“Ogrim is here from the dwarven nation.  Yes.  No.  No.  Okay.” The guard puts the thing down and looks to the party.  “He’s busy.  Go on up to floor 111.  His secretary will take your proposal down and see if it merits his time.” The guard points to a doorway behind him that opens up to a small, 5x5 room.  They walk in.

There are all kinds of buttons on the wall, each with a number and some with strange symbols.

“I think it’s a teleportation chamber.  If we hit the 111, then we go to Kendri’s secretary?” Eltharion reasons.  They agree and hit the button with the 111 on it.  They feel their stomachs drop.

“That’s a strange feeling,” The Necromancer states.  The doors open and they see a desk, and about 20 feet behind it, a door that says “Kendri Starseal” on it.  Behind the desk is a woman.

“Okay, please give me the details of your proposal, Ogrim, is it?” the woman asks.  She holds a piece of stark white parchment and a feather quill without the feather.

“Sure, we just…” Ogrim starts, but doesn’t finish.  The Necromancer casts _sleep_ and the woman falls into a deep slumber.  Ogrim and Eltharion produce their laser pistols.  The Necromancer brandishes his rifle.  They approach the office of Kendri Starseal.  Eltharion kicks in the door, and they enter.

The room is decorated with strange objects and furniture.  Before they have time to check anything more, a middle aged man stands up from behind a desk inside the room.

“What is the meaning of this!” Kendri asks, his voice charismatic and demanding.  They see a chain with a small crystal dangling from it about his neck.

“That’s the guy,” Eltharion says.

Kendri pulls out a laser pistol of his own, firing it.  A flash of bright white energy flies from it and strikes Ogrim in the chest.  It burns furiously.  Eltharion, Ogrim, and The Necromancer fire back.  Kendri dives behind his desk, shielding him from the blasts.

Eltharion approaches the desk, but as he does so, a grumbling is heard.  Not heard, but felt, in their minds.  A flash of psychic energy and a terrible psionic scream sends the Heroes to their knees, clutching their heads.  Eltharion fights through the pain and charges around the table.  He sees the man crouched and concentrating.  Eltharion grabs him, grasping the crystal and pulling it loose.  Another psionic scream flashes over the party, and Eltharion has had enough.  He bull rushes Kendri, pushing him back, back, and into the window (the outer walls of the office are all windowed), sending him flying out falling 111 stories down.

“Time to go…” Eltharion says, looking around the room for anything interesting to grab before he leaves.  A strange thing that looks like the laser pistols they have, but larger and with a strange barrel hangs on a wall.  Eltharion grabs it as they run out, back toward the elevator.  They hit the 1 button and are sped to the first floor.

“Don’t move!” the guard behind the desk, along with three other guards are all pointing laser pistols at them.  Ogrim casts _obscuring mist _ and they all flee out the front door during the commotion it causes.  They reach the Raven, climb aboard, and within seconds, the ship has already carried them back to the Time-Cavern.

“Thanks for all your help.  I hope that our task being completed bring an end to war in your times,” Eltharion says.  He and Ogrim don their armor and weapons.

“Not a problem.  I hope so too.  And I hope you are able to make it back to your own time.  You can keep the lasers if you wish,” Jerik says.

“Hey, I got this one from Kendri’s place.  What does it do?” Eltharion asks.

“Ah, that’s a phase disruptor.  Changes the phase of whoever gets caught in the blast,” Jerik responds.

“Hm, okay, thanks again,” Eltharion says, not really understanding, but taking the answer anyway.  The Heroes exit the ship, which speeds off after they do so.

“If we can control this time thing, do you want us to return you to your time, Misani?” Eltharion asks.

“No… I don’t want to go back to those yuan-ti.  And the people of the Dizgurd tribe would never accept me now that I’m changed…” Misani responds.

“You can come with us.  We like company,” Eltharion says.  They enter the cavern.

It looks exactly the same as it did the first time they went in, just a lot more dilapidated.  Cobwebs everywhere, the iron door rusting off its hinges.  They get to the chamber with the letter-stones, and most of them are collapsed, creating large gaps in the floor.  The sword is gone off the pedestal.  The Necromancer casts _fly_ on everyone, and they fly down the gap to the bottom, all of them on guard for whatever it is that turned them all to stone.

“It’s probably long dead…” Ogrim reasons, and is right.  They find no traces of anything down there, other than large broken statues and stones piled very high.  There is a path that leads out of the room, into a small chamber.  Eltharion’s flaming scimitar lights up the room enough to see a large stone contraption, with a small opening.

“I suppose this is where we put the crystal.  I wonder where it’s going to send us,” Eltharion says, producing the crystal.

“Who knows… let’s just get out of _this_ time, shall we?” The Necromancer says.  Nobody disagrees.  Eltharion puts in the crystal.

A flash of white light.

What time are they in now?  Do they have any control?  When do they get home?  Tune in tomorrow.


----------



## Droid101 (Sep 24, 2004)

And the light fades.  They’re in the same room.  Not so dusty.  The crystal is gone.  The room behind them doesn’t have so many broken stones.  A couple of holes above them let them fly back up into the letter-stone filled room.  They navigate out of the Time-Cave.

Outside, the sun is bright.  There are five statues outside, one of each of them, in an embarrassing position.  Eltharion’s eyes are closed and he is swinging his scimitar wildly.  Ogrim is looking over his shoulder.  Damaré and Misani are both laying on the ground, in different stages of getting up.  The Necromancer is wincing, holding his hands out.

“Nice pose, Nekky,” Eltharion says.

“Don’t call me that.  What should we do about these statues?  Obviously, we are in some time between when we were turned to stone and when we were freed.  Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, cast some protection spells on these statues so that they stay secure until we’re freed in the future?” The Necromancer explains.

“Why won’t we free them now, then there will be ten of us!  Unstoppable!” Eltharion thinks about the possibilities.

“No, if we do that, then our future selves will cease to exist.  We’d vanish from existence.  And you wouldn’t get to keep that cool laser gun thing,” The Necromancer reasons.

“Fair enough.  We’ll come back and set something up,” Eltharion says, and they start walking.

“Maybe I should try the ring again.  If we’re in the same time period when Drez the gnome is still alive, then maybe he can help us,” Damaré says, and he concentrates on his ring.

_Teleport us home, we have much news._

And after a short delay.

_Teleporting  you back here.  Bink and Trek still missing.  Everyone else home._

“We’re in business!” Damaré says, a blue light surrounding him.  Shortly after, a blue light surrounds each other person individually, teleporting them back.

They arrive in the same laboratory chamber in Castle Brunswick.  Drez and Zenziez the deep gnomes are working the machine furiously.  Grog, Senman and Jezda are also in the room, and they greet the rest of the Heroes emphatically.

“It’s been so long!  We were worried about you guys,” Senman says, giving his friends each a powerful hug.

“Long?  It’s only been like, two weeks,” Eltharion thinks about the dinosaurs, the darklands, and the future.

“Two weeks?  No, it’s been almost three months since we teleported you,” Drez says.

“Three months!  What!” The Necromancer seems outraged.

“What happened to you?” Grog asks.

The party explains what happened; the past, creating the Gods, the time travel machine, Misani, the future, and getting home.

“Wow… travel through time, what an interesting result…” Drez thinks, looking over to the silent Zenziez.  “You see, what happened is, we thought we were trained well enough with the machine to teleport all nine of you at the same time.  However, that much power going through the machine caused it to malfunction.  Grog, Jezda and Senman were all sent off to a faraway land.  You four were sent back in time.  I don’t know yet where Bink and Trek-Donal were sent to.”

“Why didn’t you use your ring?” Damaré asks Senman.

“Actually, they tried, but when this teleportation device is used, depending on how many people are teleported, and how far they are teleported, it creates a varying size and duration _antimagic field_, nulling all magical effects therein.  The ring wouldn’t work, as the field was huge,” Drez explains.

“Once we get a read on where Bink and Trek are, we’ll get to teleporting you to the giants, so we can take care of this problem.  We haven’t seen any progress on the bridge they are building, but we know that they will be getting to it very soon,” Drez explains, “and Adlai would like to have a word with you all.”

The Heroes go downstairs to the gathering hall, and sit around the table.  Adlai, the half-elf knight of the king enters.

“Good to see you all.  Hopefully Bink and Trek will be able to get back soon, as well.  Much activity has happened since you were all lost to us.  The dark elves strikes on the dwarven stronghold have become more and more precise.  If they keep up, the dwarves will be forced out.  Hopefully it won’t come to that.  But it is very necessary that you all stop the giants before they get out of control,” Adlai says, his voice a little shaky.

“What’s wrong, Adlai?” Eltharion asks.

“Well, the king and the rest of the knights have gone south to the Tormyr forest.  A powerful undead wizard, Velkvir, has allied with an ancient green dragon, Drelhornsdrathdin.  The knights all went down there to try to deal with them before they get out of control,” Adlai explains.  “I’ve been left in control here at the castle.  I’m basically, the king, while the king is gone.  Quite a burden, I assure you.”

“Congratulations,” The Necromancer offers.  Adlai isn’t moved.

“So get some rest.  Hopefully Bink and Trek will find us soon,” Adlai says, and he goes back to his business.  The Heroes mill over what has happened to them.

“Well, we were in a strange land, full of exotic and terrible monsters.  It was very foggy everywhere we went.  Luckily, after only a couple of weeks, the ring finally worked and we were able to get back,” Senman explained.

“Sounds awful,” Eltharion says.

“Yeah.  We lived, so all’s well.  So what about her?” Senman looks at Misani.  “She’s pretty hot,” he whispers.

“I don’t know.  Misani, what say you?  Do you want to help us defeat some evil giants?” Eltharion asks.

“I don’t really have anywhere else to go here… so I might as well,” Misani responds, her accent strange and primitive.

“All right good.  So we wait for Bink,” The Necromancer says.  The Heroes relax for the next couple of days.  Finally, Bink and Trek are heard through their rings, which triggers Drez to teleporting them home.

“Bink, it’s been so long!” Eltharion gives him a hug.  Bink pats Grog on the head, who was tugging at his robe.  Trek and the other Generals greet each other.

“So what happened to you?” The Necromancer asks.

“Well, we were teleported to a strange chaotic place.  The plane of Limbo.  After a short while of getting tossed around like rag dolls, we learned how to control the plane and shift to our needs.  After about a week of random wandering and battles with strange alien creatures, some githyanki found us,” Bink explains.

“What are those?” Eltharion asks.

“The ones we met were very noble.  They are extraplanar humanoids.  They took us to their monastery where Trek was taken under as a pupil, and I was allowed respite until we could find a way to get home.  After a few months of training and searching, we finally found a portal and got back here.  Used the ring, and the rest is history,” Bink says.

The rest of them share stories so everyone is caught up.  The party of ten takes rest for another two days to prepare for the siege on the giants.  And what a siege it will be!

Will they _finally_ get to the island of the giants?  Can the ten of them, with their combined power, possibly be stopped?  This and more, next update.


----------



## Droid101 (Sep 27, 2004)

“Xyxtactil,” Jezda says.

“Za-who, what?” Eltharion asks.

“Xyxtactil.  That was the leader of the Grendle, up north.  The one who controlled my mind to make me join.  He had a squid for a head…” Jezda says, looking around cautiously.

“Don’t worry, he’s not here, you have nothing to worry about,” Eltharion reassures him.  They were eating breakfast.

“I’m scared he might come after me.  I can’t forget that smell, the burning metal, the smell of someone prying into my head,” Jezda says, a look of fear in his big, goofy orcish eyes.

“We’ll protect you.  That’s what being friends means,” Eltharion says.  A look of relief washes over Jezda.

“Thanks.”

……….

They Heroes are gathered together in the teleportation chamber.  Drez and Zenziez, the deep gnomes who control the machine are standing at the ready.

“All right, we’re going to teleport you in two groups of four, and one final group of two.  That way, we can control the flow of the machine better.  No more mishaps!  I promise!” Drez states, stepping up to the machine.

“Better not be…” The Necromancer mumbles.

The two gnomes begin to manipulate the teleportation machine, the blue crystal mounted in the center begins to glow, and a similar blue glow surrounds The Necromancer, Grog, Jezda and Trek-Donal.  They vanish from view.

“Okay, next team, you’re up,” Drez states, looking to Ogrim, Eltharion, Bink and Damaré.  The gnomes begin to manipulate the machine again…

…but don’t have the chance to finish.  Two daggers come flying in from different angles.  One looks mundane, and it pierces the neck of Drez, the tip can be seen on the other side.  The other dagger is pure glowing blue energy.  It stabs deep into the back of Zenziez.  Both of their legs’ buckle, and they collapse to the ground.

“NO!” Eltharion yells, running around one of the cabinets where a dagger came from.  A figure, cloaked all in black, with a black goatee, and wide-brimmed hat.  “Dendybar…”

In a flash blades are dancing.  Dendybar draws a longsword and a dagger, and spins toward Eltharion.  Eltharion likewise draws his flaming and sylvan scimitars (which isn’t flaming, due to the anti-magic from the teleportation device), and closes for melee.  Blades meet blades, as they strike and parry at each other.  Ogrim runs around the other side to get behind Dendybar, putting him in a tight spot.

Damaré and Misani run around the other shelf unit and see a dark skinned elf.  His hair is spiked out in every different direction, and he holds a blade in his hand made of pure blue energy.  He throws it at Damaré as he rounds the corner, who takes the sharp thing to his shoulder.  He winces at the pain and reaches to pull the blade out.  But it has already vanished.  The dark elf is holding another one, and is charging toward Misani.

Misani draws her punching dagger and concentrates.  The weapon fuses to her arm, becoming a part of her body, allowing her greater fluidity and control over it.  The dark elf stabs at her, slicing her arm as she tries to dodge.

Bink readies his falchion, and stays at the ready.  Dendybar takes a grazing axe hit from Ogrim at the same time.  Several cuts from Eltharion sneak through, as well.  Senman turns the corner and throws three throwing knives at Dendybar, who takes all three in the forearm.

”Argh… Kev’Zen, retreat!” Dendybar rolls and tumbles past Ogrim and out of the door leading away from the teleportation device.

“I’ll finish you later,” the dark elf says as he concentrates.  Psionic energy surrounds him, and he vanishes from view.  Misani stabs at where he used to be, but feels nothing.  She ends her power and her dagger comes free from her arm.

Bink, Eltharion and Ogrim charge out of the room after Dendybar.  They see him reach the end of the corridor and turn.  An arcane utterance is heard from around the corner, and when they get there, he is gone.

“Dimension door…” Bink grumbles.  “How did he know that the teleportation device made an area of anti-magic around it after it is used?  Why didn’t he just try to teleport away while in the room?  How could he have known?”

“But that dark elf teleported away fine.  And he even had those magical daggers.  And wait, Misani fused that dagger to her arm fine too.  What gives?” Damaré asks, as his dagger-wound is healed by Eltharion.

“That’s psionics… slightly different from magic.  I guess anti-magic doesn’t affect psionics the same way it affects magic,” Bink responds.  “What worries me, is that not only is Dendybar here in Brunswick, but he’s gotten in the castle, and he has an ally.”

They check the bodies of Drez and Zenziez.  Both are fully dead.

“I think I’m going to be sick…” Senman says, not really in reaction to the grisly scene, but more at the fact that they are separated from their friends again.

“You think they got to the giants okay?  I wonder if they’ll wait for us before going in,” Eltharion asks.

“I don’t know… they may expect an error with the machine again, and just go in by themselves,” Bink replies.  “We should check the castle and make sure those guys are gone…”

They split up and take a look around, telling any guard they see of what just happened.  Bink, Eltharion and Ogrim happen upon Adlai.

“Adlai, something terrible just happened…” Bink starts.

“Yeah… I know.  Don’t go into the king’s chamber…” Adlai says, dejected, he walks away, down toward the main hall.

“Huh?” Eltharion peers into the room, turning his head away as soon as he does so.

“What is it?” Bink asks.  Bink and Ogrim look, and likewise look away.

“Dendybar is going to die for this…” Eltharion states, drawing a nod from the others.

The king’s magnificent bed is covered in blood.  On the wall, spelled out in blood, it says “You will SUFFER.”  On the bed lays the corpse of the beautiful queen; her wrists and neck cut savagely.

Everyone gathers in the main hall.  Adlai sits upon the throne.

“These are difficult times that we live in…” Adlai starts, the Heroes nod.

“…and we must pull together if we hope to…” he is interrupted.

The magnificent double doors that lead to the outside courtyard burst open.  King Wallace Brunswick enters.  Much cheering can be heard from outside, from the populace.

“Well met, everyone.  How have you all been?” the king asks, his raven hair blowing and his armor glistening.

“Been better,” almost in unison.

“Where are the others?  Did the other knights fall?” Adlai asks.

“Oh, no, they are staying down there, dealing with the problem.  I felt I needed to return home to take care of my people,” Wallace says.

“You couldn’t have come at a worse time…” Adlai says, and he explains everything that just happened to the Wallace.  The king stands very still, and very quiet for a minute.

“I’ll be going to my study.  Please get my bedroom cleaned,” a stern faced Wallace heads upstairs to his private study at the top of the castle’s tower.

“I guess we shouldn’t worry about the giants now.  I don’t think we should leave until everything here has settled down,” Eltharion says.

“I would appreciate it if you all stayed until we figured out what Dendybar and his lackey are up to,” Adlai responds.  A messenger comes down the stairs, and hands a note to Adlai.  He reads it, then looks at the party.

“By Wallace’s word, you all have to leave…” Adlai reads.

“What?  But we’re…” Eltharion starts.

“Don’t worry, he’s decreed that everyone who isn’t a guard or a servant should leave the castle, for their own safety.  I’ll set you all up at a nearby inn.  I’ll make sure to send a messenger to you if we need anything here,” Adlai explains.

“All right,” Bink says, as he, Ogrim, Eltharion, Senman, Damaré and Misani walk out of the castle.

“Something’s fishy,” Eltharion says.

“Yeah, something doesn’t seem right.  Hopefully we’ll get more clues later…” Bink says.  They reach the inn and rest for the night.

………

Dendybar is crouched behind a case full of vials, beakers, and other such alchemical items.  Their plan was to allow as many of those idiots to get teleported away as possible, leaving that damned elf, dwarf, and sorcerer behind, so that they can be dealt with accordingly.

_They insulted me_, Dendybar thought, _they’ll die, more painfully than the king’s wife did_.  The first group was teleported.  The second included Eltharion, Ogrim, and Bink.  Looks like they’d have to act now.

Dendybar trusted Kev’Zen to react quickly, so he lined up his shot and took it.  With a precise throw at the gnome the game was on.  He severed his spinal cord through his neck.  Kev’Zen did the same, but in the back of the other gnome.

“NO!” a the voice of the elf, that damned elf!  A smile crossed his lips as the elf came around the case, and they drew their weapons simultaneously.  Steel met steel and they fought.  The dwarf came in behind him, however.

_Damn_, he thought, _I can’t handle them both at the same time.  Time for a tactical retreat._

“Argh… Kev’Zen, retreat!” he yelled, rolling and tumbling past the dwarf and out of the room.  _Gotta get far enough away from that machine before I can teleport, that’s what Xyxtactil said._  So he ran around the corner, and cast _dimension door_.  He was back at his inn room.  Kev’Zen showed up moments later.

“Okay, I’ve got to get ready.  Is my horse waiting?” Dendybar asked.

“Yes, everything is set.  Just get outside.  Xyxtactil and I are ready when you give us the call,” the dark elf replies.

“Good,” Dendybar applied his disguise.  After a combination of makeup, rubber masking, and the _alter self_ spell, Dendybar was the splitting image of king Wallace Brunswick.

“Very convincing, though, I’ve never seen this king,” Kev’Zen said.

“Just teleport me out of the city, so that I can come riding in, all heroic like,” Dendybar said, “They won’t know what hit them…”

Are the Heroes in serious trouble?  Do they know who is their enemy and who is their friend?  Isn’t Xyxtactil the name of the leader of the Grendle?  What the heck is going on here!?  This and more, next time.


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## Droid101 (Sep 28, 2004)

Dendybar went over the last week’s events over and over in his head.  Showing up at the castle, disguised as the king.  Taking control.  Getting everyone out of the castle that he could.  Doubling the cities guard watch.  Lessening, and finally barring all trade.  Closing off entrance/exit to the castle town completely.  And all to “help” the people stay safe from the “Dark Tides.”  Hah.

It was almost too easy.  With him in power, and with Adlai, the only knight at the castle, controlled mentally by Xyxtactil, it would only be a matter of weeks before he could fully bring the Black Hand, his own guild from the north into the city of Brunswick.  By the time he gets caught or forced out of the castle, the Black Hand will already be firmly rooted in the city.  Everything was falling into place.

And those Heroes… damn them.  Everything he’d done to set them up for a fall over the past few days.  Drugging and killing a guard in the castle, using a great glowing falchion.  Implication: Bink.  Staging a jail-break from the castle prison.  Leaving behind a sickle and a scimitar.  Implication: Eltharion.

And finally, to implicate Ogrim, he’d need to do one last thing.  Dendybar cast _alter self_ and turned himself into a good likeness of a Brunswick guard captain, and headed to the bar with a small regiment…

…………..

The Heroes, Bink, Eltharion, Ogrim, Damaré, Senman and Misani, remain in Brunswick.  After a few days, the king made a proclamation, reducing trade.  He then closed off the city completely, to protect his people from the Dark Tides.  The Heroes were invited to attend the queen’s funeral, and so they went.  But the king didn’t.

“Why do you think the king missed his own wife’s funeral?  He must be just that busy, with Dendybar and that dark elf around, along with the Dark Tides and everything else,” Eltharion says.

“I think there’s more to it than that.  I think I’m going to take a look around the castle tonight,” Bink states.  The Heroes part ways for the day.  Ogrim goes to the bar that evening.

He orders drinks and keeps quiet.  Another table holds a bunch of the king’s guard, getting a little rowdy.  The guard captain stands and staggers toward Ogrim.

“We don’t like your kind here…” the guard captain says, giving him a menacing look.  “Take your short dwarven ass elsewhere.”

Ogrim’s brow furrowed, he stood and puffed his chest into the guard captain.

“Ye got anything else ye want to be sayin’?” Ogrim says.

“Yeah, but I gotta take you out side to do so,” the guard captain staggers slightly, pointing outside.  The rest of the guards go outside and form a semi-circle.  Ogrim follows the drunk guard captain.  Ogrim takes off his gauntlets and places his axe and shield on the ground.

The guard captain comes in fast, fists swinging.  He moves much faster than Ogrim expected; a fist landing cleanly on his jaw.  He shrugs it off and offers a low combination (what else could a dwarf do?) to the guard captain’s stomach, drawing an elongated breath and finally a gasp from the guard on the last hit.  The guard punches at Ogrim again, but Ogrim blocks it, then clocks the guard in the chin with an uppercut.  The guard captain staggers back, and he draws his sword.

The guards forming the semi-circle go from rowdy to uneasy, as they watch their captain draw a blade during an unarmed fight.

The captain slashes at Ogrim, grazing his shoulder and drawing a grunt from the stout dwarf.  He sets his feet and enters the dwarven defensive stance, and slugs the guard two more times, drawing a cut to his forearm as he does so.  The wind gets knocked from the guard captain again, who staggers back from the powerful blow.  The guard spins and slashes again, cutting Ogrim across the flank.  Ogrim grits his teeth and slams the guard in the face with his fists twice, cleanly knocking him out.  He gives the guard captain a kick for good measure, and looks to the rest of the guards.

“Any of ye want a piece?” Ogrim asks bluntly.

“No… and thanks for… putting him down softly…” the guards look dejected as they begin to carry their captain back to the castle.

………

Eltharion decided to take a stroll around the city.  He approached the great fountain at the center of the city.  He saw a figure standing by it…

…Dendybar!  Couldn’t mistake that wide-brimmed black hat.  Eltharion started to sprint at him, but Dendybar turned and ran.  The chase was on.

They sprinted back and forth between buildings, alleyways, and courtyards.  Eventually, Dendybar got to a wall and climbed up over it.  Eltharion was quick to follow.

They were in the yard of a very large mansion.  Dendybar ran into the guest house.  Eltharion followed.  Once inside, he was met by four half-orcs standing in what looked like a small office.  No sign of Dendybar.

“You ‘ave a problem, mate?” one of them asked.

“No, did someone come running through here?” Eltharion asked back.

“Maybe.  What do you want?” the half-orc sneered.

“I want to kill Dendybar Retari.  That’s what,” Eltharion was serious.

“Who?” the half-orc asked.  A hatch opened up in the floor.  The man wearing black hopped out, but from this close, Eltharion could plainly see that it wasn’t Dendybar.

“Oh… oops.  Sorry about that…” Eltharion said.

“It’s okay.  The name’s Donald McGraw.  Like the hat?  Stole it from Dendybar Retari himself,” Donald said.

“Really?  When?  Did you see him?” Eltharion needed information.

“Well, actually, I didn’t see him at all.  He left it behind when he was at a restaurant.  About a week ago,” Donald replied.

“Damn… well, thanks anyway,” Eltharion says.  “Wait, do you happen to know why Dendybar is here in Brunswick?”

“As a matter of fact I do.  My boss, Pignose Jack runs this city’s, well, not-so-fuzzy underbelly.  Any dirty dealings going on, we know about it.  Y’see, we think that he’s trying to get his little guild established in Brunswick.  Damned if we’re gonna let that happen,” Donald explains.

“Interesting.  Well, I’m Eltharion Ulthuan.  If you get any more info, would you contact me?” Eltharion asks.

“Certainly, as long as you do the same for me,” Donald replies.  They share a hearty handshake and Eltharion goes back to the inn.  A group of guards approaches him.

“Eltharion?  Come with us, we need to ask you a few questions,” one of the guards says.

“Fine,” Eltharion complies, and they lead him to the castle.  They take him into the jailroom, where a guard captain sits behind a desk.

“I’m the Dungeon Master, I preside over the jail and general city security.  You’re Eltharion?” the man asks.

“Yes, what do you need to know?” Eltharion responds.

“I’ll ask you in the morning,” he takes a key and unlocks a nearby cell.  The other guards push Eltharion in.  The Dungeon Master sits back down.

“Why are you putting me in jail…?” Eltharion asks, calmly.

“We have reason to believe you have committed a crime,” the Dungeon Master responds.

Eltharion sits back, thinking.  He looks to the cell next to him, and sees a familiar face.

“Grug?  Flick?  Is that you?” Eltharion asks.

“Yeah!  Hey!  How you been?” Flick the halfling barbarian responds.  The Heroes ran into Grug the half-orc and Flick the halfing when they visited Canticus for the first time.

“Been better, actually,” Eltharion stated, still thinking.

“We got caught starting a fight… you know how it is,” Flick says.  Eltharion isn’t listening.  “Hey man, you okay?”

Eltharion morphs into a cheetah and sprints out of the jail.

“Stop him!” the Dungeon Master yells, but Eltharion is long gone, back to the inn.

……….

Bink waits for night time, and decides to do some investigating.  He _invisibly flies_ to the castle, landing on the roof of the main building.  There is a small door that leads into the tower from the roof, and he _knocks_ it open, entering quietly.

He follows the spiral staircase up to Wallace Brunswick’s personal office.  Maybe there’s some papers or something…

At the top, the door to the office is open, but just a crack.  Bink carefully pushes it open as though the wind blew it, and takes a quiet step inside.  The king is behind his desk, writing something down.

“Just turn around and leave,” the king states, not even looking up from his paperwork.  Bink complies, stepping back out of the room silently, going down the stairs and flying back to his inn room.

The next morning, Bink, Eltharion, and Ogrim met up in the lobby of their inn.

“Something is definitely wrong.  I went to the castle yesterday and went to the king’s study while invisible.  He didn’t even look up and told me to get out.  No questioning, nothing.  Just didn’t seem like him,” Bink states.

“Yeah, and I got arrested last night…” Eltharion says.

“What?” Ogrim asks.

“I’ll explain later.  Must be a mistake,” Eltharion clarifies.

“Strange.  Where’s Misani and the others?” Eltharion asks.  Bink shrugs.

“Well, I think it’s time we demand to talk to Adlai.  We need to know what’s going on with the king,” Bink says, and they exit the inn.  Approaching them is, what looks like, 20 guards.  The Dungeon Master is leading them, and he unrolls a scroll and begins to read as they stop about 15 feet away from the Heroes.

“Raise your hands into the air and do not move, you are all under arrest,” the Dungeon Master says.

“Arrest for what?  We didn’t do nothin’,” Ogrim responds.

“The statement of charges, not necessarily in order of importance, are as follows:  Murder, first degree.  Illegal worship of Iyachtu Xvim.  Resisting arrest.  Illegal use of controlled substances.  Assault on the king’s guard.  Breaking and entering….”

The Heroes stop listening.

“What the heck is he talking about?  Did we do those things?” Eltharion asks.  Everyone else shakes their head, equally confused.

“…Illegal entry into Castle Brunswick.  Badgering of the king’s officials…”

“Something is definitely wrong.  These must not be really the king’s guard.  It’s a trap.  Let’s take them out…” Bink says, drawing a grin and a nod from everyone.

“Trespassing.  Unlawful escape from…” the Dungeon Master doesn’t get to finish.  The Heroes burst into action.

Will they fight off all the city guard?  How deep are Dendybar’s machinations?  Find out next time!


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## the Jester (Sep 28, 2004)

I love it!  

My favorite things are the fast pacing and the total cluelessness of the group to the complexities of the things going on around them.


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## Droid101 (Sep 29, 2004)

the Jester said:
			
		

> I love it!
> 
> My favorite things are the fast pacing and the total cluelessness of the group to the complexities of the things going on around them.



Thanks for the approval!  Means a lot, coming from you.

Anyway, part of the reason it's so fast paced is because I don't have very good notes on what happened.  The further along I get, the more detail there is, as you might notice.

But thanks for reading!  More to come!


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## Droid101 (Sep 29, 2004)

Ogrim readies his Orc-Killer axe and shield and charges the Dungeon Master.  Eltharion runs an arc around and engages one of the other 19 guards from the side, drawing his sylvan and flaming scimitars.  Bink casts _haste_ and _fly_, and takes to the air.

The Dungeon Master is wearing full plate and has a glowing blade, that he draws hastily.  Fifteen of the other guards are wearing heavy chain, and have longswords as well.  The last four have crossbows, and they fire at each of the Heroes.  Eltharion ducks and dodges out of the way, Bink takes a bolt to the leg, and two bolts bounce off Ogrim’s shield.  Bink grimaces, but continues his flight.

The guards surround both Eltharion and Ogrim, and the Dungeon Master backs off, barking out orders.  Some well placed strikes hit Eltharion from a few angles.  Ogrim’s armor absorbs all the hits to him.

“Moradin be with me!” Ogrim sets himself into the ancient dwarven defensive stance, leveling his shoulders and shield.  He swings his axe, striking a guard twice, knocking him to the ground.  He doesn’t get up.  Eltharion spins and weaves in between all the guards, trying to dodge and strike at the same time.  He lands four good cuts to one guard, who drops.  Bink flies down and casts _lightning bolt _ at two of the crossbowmen and the Dungeon Master.  The crossbowmen go down in a burnt, smoking mess.  The Dungeon Master grimaces, yelling out to his men.  Bink flies over Eltharion, getting ready to cast another spell.

Eltharion takes another few stabs from the surrounding guards.  He’s bleeding from a dozen small wounds, but he doesn’t back down.  Ogrim is able to evade every single blade from the guards, and strikes out, taking down another one.  Eltharion’s expert blade strikes fell a guard on him.  Bink casts _haste_ on Eltharion and flies back near the Dungeon Master, upon whom he casts another _lightning bolt_, lining him up with the last two crossbowmen.  The Dungeon Masters hair smokes and body is burned badly, but he stays standing.  The crossbowmen fall in a heap.  

“Send the mages!  We need support!” the Dungeon Master looks like he’s talking into a ring.  He stays back, away from Eltharion and Ogrim, who are still surrounded by six and five guards, respectively.

Eltharion takes a few more hits, and staggers.  He is weakened by a stab to his ribcage, but stays standing.  He lands another powerful combination of blows, and another guard falls.  He tries to maneuver himself to cast a spell, and successfully casts _cure moderate wounds _ defensively, healing some of his damage.

The guards on Ogrim take a different approach, as they begin to try to all grab onto him.  He squirms out of their grasp, landing a few good axe hits in the process.  Another guard drops.

Bink flies over to Eltharion, and casts _cure moderate wounds _ as well, healing Eltharion a little more.  Bink flies over to Ogrim, getting ready to cast a spell on him.

Over the top of the buildings, Bink sees six figures flying at them.  Three of them land on top of a building on either side of the street, looking down at the battlefield.

“Heads up!  There’s wizards!” Bink yells, pointing.

They all begin muttering arcane spells.  Two _walls of ice _ pop up on either side of Ogrim and Eltharion, trapping them inside with the guards.  The Dungeon Master is left on the outside, where he is still calling out orders.  Eltharion feels the pull of magic on him, as do Ogrim and Bink.  All of them are able to resist, however, and keep on fighting.

Eltharion, backed against a wall of a building, slashes out six times, scoring hit after hit, and taking down two guards.  He takes a few hits in return.  Ogrim doesn’t fare so well.  Finally, a couple of the guards grab onto him and try to hold him in place.  He does his best to fight free, but stays entangled by a mass of arms.

Bink flies up to the roof.

“You’re all lined up… perfect,” Bink chuckles, releasing yet another _lightning bolt _ at three of the wizards.  All of them, caught by surprise, fall off the building as they try to dodge.  Each of them a smoking and burnt corpse.

The wizards on the other roof take heed, changing their formation as to not be set up for that again.  They all fire _magic missiles_; a volley of nine come streaking in and slam into Bink.  He winces at the pain and his altitude sags slightly as he concentrates to stay conscious.

Eltharion’s sylvan scimitar cleaves through another two guards, and with that opening, he uses his _slippers of spider climb_ to climb up the wall behind him.  He gets to the top and charges straight at one of the wizards.

Ogrim struggles to break free of the five guards, but they hold on tight, not letting him bring his axe to bear.

Bink spots the Dungeon Master running off into an alleyway.

“I’m going after him!” Bink yells.  He casts _cure moderate wounds _ on himself and flies after the Dungeon Master.  He catches up pretty quickly.

Eltharion dices up one of the wizards in short order; three fast blades across the chest of the flailing wizard sends him down.  He stalks toward another.  Both take to the air and start flying away.

“Good riddance!” Eltharion starts to climb back down the wall to help Ogrim.  Ogrim finally pushes himself free, but is still quite surrounded.

Bink casts an _acid arrow _ down at the Dungeon Master.  It strikes him in the back and he collapses, writing in burning agony, the acid melting through his armor, skin, flesh and bone.  Bink flies back to the battlefield.

“Can you get him out?” Eltharion yells up to Bink as he sees him approach.  

“I’ll try…” Bink flies down and casts _fly_ on Ogrim, who takes to the air.  Several guards try to grab his legs, but he just kicks them off easily.  They both pick up Eltharion and fly toward castle Brunswick.

“Adlai had better have a pretty good explaination for all this,” Bink says.  Everyone nods as they approach the castle.

Will Adlai have a pretty good explaination for this?  Will it be an ‘Okay’ explaination?  Where did Senman, Misani and Damaré run off to?  This and more, next update.


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## Droid101 (Sep 30, 2004)

“Hey, when did you learn how to heal?” Eltharion asked Bink as they flew toward castle Brunswick.

“I am a master of the arcane arts, I can…” Bink started.

“Arcane isn’t healing!  Where did you learn how to heal?” Eltharion asked again.

“Don’t worry about it.  Just know that I’ve got us covered,” Bink replies.

“Good to know.”

Ogrim and Bink, carrying Eltharion, fly over the inner castle walls and approach the castle doors.  Two guards come running at them from the wall.

“Hey!  You can’t do that!  W… wait a minute, you’re that group of criminals, aren’t you?” the guard stammers.

“And we just obliterated the squad that came looking for us, including the Dungeon Master.  Still want to stop us?  We need to talk to Adlai.  We promise not to hurt him,” Bink explains.

“Unless he tries something…” Eltharion adds.

“Open the door!” the guard calls out, and the large doors swing open slowly.  Adlai approaches them from the main hall.

“What in the world is going on?  I heard you all were going to be arrested,” Adlai says.

“Yeah, and we want to know who set it up,” Bink responds adamantly.

“Well, generally, unless it is an assassination attempt on the king, then it is handled by the Dungeon Master and the other guards and guard captains.  The king and the knights don’t get involved unless it’s really serious.  So I was unaware.  I hear the Dungeon Master has been investigating crimes for days that you all have committed,” Adlai is flabbergasted.

“We didn’t do any of them!” Eltharion exclaims.

“I don’t know what you all did, but the Dungeon Master already apprehended Damaré, Senman and Misani.  They are being kept in the Oubliette.  Come with me, we should go talk to them,” and Adlai leads them to the jailroom.

………

Xyxtactil; his alien mind prying into Adlai’s.  He easily maneuvers around any mental defense Adlai tries to put up, digging his psionic talons in deep.  Invisible and silent, Xyxtactil the mind-flayer sits in the corner of the room, dictating all of Adlai’s movements as though a marionette.

_They’re going to the Oubliette now.  Be ready._  Xyxtactil’s mind reaches out to Dendybar and Kev’Zen.

……….

“What is the Oubliette?” Bink asks.

“It’s a place where we keep the most powerful criminals we capture,” Adlai explains, as they walk to the end of the hall in the small jailroom.  Adlai presses a block on the stone wall, and the wall slides open, revealing a staircase leading down.  The room is 80 feet in diameter; the staircase spirals down along the wall almost 100 feet down, when they reach the bottom.  It is dark and damp, eight iron doors surround them.  One of them has been sealed off by several large stones.

“What’s in that room?” Eltharion asks about the cell blocked off by the rocks.

“Something… terrible happened in that cell.  We sealed it off shortly after,” Adlai explains.  “This way.”

He leads them to another one of the iron doors, produces a key, and opens it.  It swings in with a loud rusty creak.  A long, dank, 20 by 30 chamber is revealed.  Manacles attached to the wall hold Senman, Misani, and Damaré stationary.  They are all battered and bruised.

“Oh, am I glad to see you…” Damaré stirs slightly.  “Guys, we’ve been framed.”

“Yes we know, we’re getting you out of here,” Bink says, shooting a glance at Adlai.  Adlai shakes his head slowly.

“I’d like to stop you all, but it does seem a bit odd that you would want to help us destroy the threat of giants, and then flip flop over to being common criminals… wha, what the!” Adlai is startled by a form running into the cell from behind them.

Dendybar charges in, stabbing Ogrim viciously with his dagger, jamming it deep into his shoulder.

“By Moradin!” Ogrim grunts loudly at the pain, his arm going numb.  Eltharion quickly cuts the chains from Damaré.  Bink fires a volley of _magic missiles _ into Dendybar.  

Ogrim draws his Orc-Killer and shield.  Adlai pulls out his longsword and backs off a step.

Just then, another form materializes in the room.  The dark elf, Kev’Zen, appears, with a glowing dagger in hand.  Eltharion whips around and slashes into the dark elf five times, connecting with a solid hit twice.  The dark elf groans slightly, but stays on the defensive.

In good position, Ogrim stebs back from Dendybar and flanks the dark elf.  Damaré similarly moves in, and they have the dark elf surrounded.  Ogrim pounds into him, connecting on three solid axe strikes.  Damaré slaps him with his chains.  The dark elf’s vision blurs as the pain mounts, and the blood seeps into his vision.  He concentrates, while keeping his defenses up.  His eyes gloss over silver and a flash of rainbow light surrounds him, and he vanishes.  

Adlai, at that moment, begins an arcane casting.  Bink recognizes the spell.

“Adlai, what are you doing!!” Bink yells, as the fireball goes off, enveloping everyone.

Well, almost everyone.  Dendybar, with unearthly speed and agility, flattens himself to the ground and evades the flame completely.  Eltharion, Damaré, Ogrim and Bink dodge somewhat, only singing slightly.  Adlai stays put, the flames engulfing him entirely.  He is badly burned.

Senman and Misani, however, are still manacled to the wall, and are unable to dodge at all.  The flames burn into their flesh.  They are covered with third degree burns and both fall lifeless to the ground; their bodies filling the room with smoke.

With everyone coughing and putting out flames, Dendybar decides to retreat.  He runs out of the room and on up the stairs.  The Heroes do not follow.  Eltharion tackles Adlai and holds him down.

“What is wrong with you!  Do you realize what you just did!” Eltharion yells at him, slapping him in the face.

“Ouch, hey, stop... what… what happened?  Oh no… no no no, that wasn’t me… I, I couldn’t.  I didn’t… it wasn’t me…” Adlai fumbles for words.  “You know that it wasn’t me… it, it wasn’t…”

“It’s okay Adlai…” Eltharion shakes his head.

“Tell that to Senman and Misani…” Bink checks their vital signs; or lack thereof.

“I could feel his tentacles in my mind.  What a horrible creature,” Adlai says, defeated.

“Look, you didn’t do it, so stop beating yourself up,” Eltharion puts bluntly, and gets up.

The Heroes carry the bodies of Senman and Misani up the stairs.  They give them over to the castle’s coroner and gather in the meeting hall for a few minutes before going back to their inn.

“So, do you think that whatever was controlling you was also controlling the Dungeon Master, or possibly even the king?” Bink asks Adlai.

“I have no idea.  How could it control all three of us at once?” Adlai asks incredulously.  “That would be some kind of power…  Plus, the king is a deific being.  I don’t think that mundane magic or mind powers could affect him at all.”

“Maybe just the Dungeon Master?” Eltharion reasons.

“I have no idea.  This is so strange, why would somebody do this…” Adlai starts.  A messenger comes running up to their table.

“Urgent news, a runner just arrived from the Tormyr forest.  It seems that the king and his knights will be staying for another few weeks.  They’ve got a read on the undead wizard and the dragon down there.  But, that doesn’t make sense sir, as the king returned home already,” the messenger hands Adlai the missive, bows, and goes back to his business.  Adlai looks the note over.

“It’s official; king’s seal and everything.  Then… who is the guy up in the king’s study right now…?” Adlai asks, in complete horror.

“Uh oh…”

Will this busy day never end?  Are Dendybar’s plans ruined?  Will the Heroes _ever_ kill that guy?  All these questions and more, will be answered (or raised) next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 1, 2004)

Adlai got the message out to every soldier in and around the caslte.  The king was an imposter.  He should be considered very dangerous.  The Heroes scoured the place, looking everywhere, but could not find the king, the dark elf, or Dendybar.

“Looks like the castle is pretty secure, let’s keep it this way,” Adlai stated.  Everyone agreed.

“Let’s make a list of everything we have pending to do, shall we?” Bink says.  He starts writing things down, holds up the list, and reads.

“There’s the undead wizard and that green dragon, Drelhor… whatever, down south in the forest.  There is the island of the giants, where Grog, Jezda, The Necromancer and Trek-Donal are.  There is that ‘Tovag Baragu’ temple thing we heard about.  We could head back up north and deal with those thieves and drow in that one city.  There are those dark elves from that rogue house that attacked us near the dwarven stronghold.  We could check out the old Xvim temple under Canticus, and make sure it’s totally destroyed.  We’ve got Dendybar and his drow friend somewhere in Brunswick.  And of course, I still have to find this book for my… sponsor,” Bink takes a deep breath.

“Sponsor?” Eltharion asks.

“Yes, you remember that devil eryines?  Her name is Indiffines the Wretched.  She granted me the secrets and the power of Eldritch Mastery.  I promised to return her a certain book of great power.  Supposedly it belongs to a great lich named Velkvir.  That’s all I know so far,” Bink responds.

“There’s also those orcs from the southern forest.  I heard from me people that they be gatherin’ many tribes together,” Ogrim adds.

“Wait, did you say Velkvir?” Adlai puts in, after having a bit of an epiphany.

“Yes, why?” Bink sasys cuiously.

“I think I know where his lair is.  To the far west, off the coast, there is a small island.  It is said to be covered with ghosts and spirits and the like.  He resides in an old abandoned castle,” Adlai explains.

“Well, we have some choices then.  Everybody, sit down and think about what you want to do, and we’ll meet up again.  I have just gained the ability to teleport, so we can pretty much get to wherever we need to,” Bink says.  Everyone nods and heads to their room in the castle.

The next day a funeral is held for Senman and Misani; they are buried in the castle courtyard’s small graveyard, around the back.

“They were good friends,” Bink says simply.

“All Misani knew of the future was pain and death… that’s pretty sad,” Eltharion states quietly.

The Heroes take a day to mourn and think about their best course of action.  They meet again the following morning.

“Okay, any suggestions?” Bink asks, as Eltharion, Damaré, Ogrim and Adlai arrive.

“Whatever we do, I think we need to scry Grog and those guys, and bring them back here to help us.  We will be less effective separated,” Eltharion reasons.

“True enough.  What sounds the most promising?” Bink asks.

“I have some more news.  I sent a message to king Wallace via magic, and he responded.  He said that the undead wizard’s name is Velkvir,” Adlai states.

“Well, that’s pretty convenient.  We know where he lives, and he’s not even home,” Bink’s eyes brighten.

“We could sneak into his lair while he’s down in the forest to the south,” Eltharion puts in.

“Let’s do some research on him first.  Everybody head to the library, Adlai and I are going to go scry for Grog and the others.  Meet up in an hour,” Bink says, and everyone breaks.

Ogrim, Eltharion and Damaré head to the castle library and look around.  Bink and Adlai head up to the laboratory and get Adlai’s mirror.

“Here goes,” Adlai says, casting his _scrying _ spell.  An image slowly shows up in the mirror.  Looks like Grog, Jezda, and some unknown and very large armored man are sitting in a jail cell.  No sign of The Necromancer or Trek-Donal.

“Okay, that’s good enough, I think I can teleport there,” Bink says.  Eltharion shows up in an hour.

“Where are Ogrim and Damaré?” Bink asks.

“They’re still researching.  So what did you find?” Eltharion asks.

“Found Grog and the skinny orc.  Let’s go get them back,” Bink holds onto Eltharion’s arm and casts _teleport_; their vision fades to the ethereal plane, and just as instantly back into the prime.  They are in a small jail cell.

Bink gets punched in the face, hard.  A gauntleted hand flies in from the very tall, very muscular blonde haired man.

“No!  He’s my friend!” Grog yells out, jumping between Bink and the man.

“Ha, ha, ha… your friend!  I’m sorry about that,” the man chortles.

“Yeah, right.  We’re here to rescue our friends,” Bink says, rubbing his jaw.

“Mind taking me along with you?  I’m looking to get back to the Adventurer’s Guildhall,” the man says.

“Sure thing, but hold on,” Bink pauses, then punches the man in the face, returning the favor.

The large man merely laughs again, extending his hand.

“Name’s Blaze, Blaze Brague.  Nice to meet you,” Blaze says.

“Bink.  This is Eltharion,” Bink says, his hand a little sore from hitting Blaze’s almost iron jaw.

“You think we could break out of here and get our weapons back, first?” Blaze says, pointing out of the cell.

“Sure, what’s out there?” Bink asks.

“Hobgoblins.  Giants a bit further out.  I think our stuff is being kept in that closet across the way,” Blaze says.  Jezda, the skinny orc, stands and readies himself.  Bink gets ready to blast the iron bars of the cell open.  Eltharion readies his sylvan and flaming scimitars.  Blaze squeezes his holy symbol of Tempus.  Grog’s eyes glaze over red and bloodshot.  He was angry.

Should the Heroes have any trouble escaping?  Who is the Blaze guy?  Where are The Necromancer and Trek?  This and more, next update!


----------



## the Jester (Oct 1, 2004)

Do I hear the sound of a new pc?


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 1, 2004)

the Jester said:
			
		

> Do I hear the sound of a new pc?



Ha, well, I'm going to keep which characters are PCs and which are NPCs under wraps for a little longer.  But soon, soon you shall know all.


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## Droid101 (Oct 4, 2004)

“TEMPUS!!” Blaze yells out and grabs onto the iron bars.  His armor squeals and creaks as his already muscular form grows even stronger.  He swells up and rips the barred door off its hinges, tossing it out into the hallway.  Two armed hobgoblins come running, shouting orders and obsceneties.

Grog charges, diving low at one of them, taking out its legs and knocking it to the ground.  Eltharion runs out, spins, and slashes his flaming scimitar into the other one, drawing a line of blood and seared flesh.  Two more hobgoblins run out from down the hall, and they are met with a clothesline-forearm from Jezda.  Blaze charges at one of them and slams a fist into its face, sending it flying back at least five feet from the powerful blow, knocking it into the wall and spiraling into unconsciousness.

Bink fires a volley of _magic missiles_, taking out another one.  Eltharion finishes up the remaining ones, and soon everything is quiet.  They drag the bodies into their cell, and Blaze puts the iron barred door back up, leaning it in place.

“Well, you didn’t really need us after all, did you?” Bink asks.

“Sure, we could get out of the cage.  But what then?  Run upstairs and deal with 40 giants?  Not likely,” Blaze explains.  Bink nods in agreement.

“Wait, let’s not leave yet, we can kill some giants, then escape,” Eltharion says as Grog, Jezda and Blaze get their weapons from the storage closet nearby.  Blaze hefts a mighty battle axe.  Jezda gets his greatsword and halberd.  Grog finds his finely crafted katana.

“Yeah, we should help as much as we can before heading back.  I’ve got a bunch of spells ready to go…” Bink adds.

“Do you know where The Necromancer and Trek are?” Eltharion asks Grog and Jezda.

“They’re not here.  We were captured and then separated.  I overheard them say that the ‘humans’ were going to be taken to a different location for questioning,” Grog explains.

“Dammit… well, we’ll kill some giants, then head back and have Adlai scry for them,” Eltharion says.  He begins to lead them out into the hallway.

The passage is very tall once they get out of the jail.  Several different paths are before them, but they don’t have time to make a decision.  They hear a low whistle coming from a pile of rubble.  Eltharion approaches.

“Hello?” Eltharion looks around the pile, and an orc steps out from behind a rock.  Eltharion’s blades go up instinctively, but the orc shows his bare hands.

“Peace, elf, come this way,” the orc leads them behind the rock and into a small crawl space.  Blaze has trouble fitting, but squeezes his armor through (with ample scratching and squealing).  They emerge in a very rough underground area.  Natural cave works, stalactites and stalagmites.  Many orcs litter this area, sharpening weapons, sleeping, caring for young, and a myriad of other activities.

“Woah, what are all of you doing here, living in a giant stronghold?” Blaze asks, bewildered.

“We have taken up refuge here, fighting the good fight against those damned giants,” the orc responds.  His chain armor is torn and old.

“Wow, there is a whole tunnel complex here,” Eltharion looks past the orcs to the tunnels beyond.

“Yes, underground river, strange haunted temple, unexplored tunnels…” the orc starts.

“You said, ‘haunted temple,’ right?  Where is it?” Eltharion asks, a look of glee on his face.

“I can show you where it is, but we never go in there,” the orc says, pointing off to one of the tunnels.

“I’ll be right back, you guys talk to orcs and find out where we can attack some giants,” Eltharion says as he jogs off toward the haunted temple.

“Is he always like that?” Blaze asks.

“Yeah, he’s like, greedy to see what he can find, but he never really wants to keep any of it.  A little strange,” Grog says.

“He’d make a good thief,” Jezda adds.

Eltharion trails down the tunnel and sees a pile of rubble dead end, and to the right of it a small passage.  Right away he can feel negative energy pouring out of the hallway.  He grits his teeth and heads inside.  Strange carvings line the walls, and a small altar is in the center of the room.  Atop it is a small bag, covered in dust.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Blaze’s voice came from behind Eltharion as he opened up the small sack.  He produced a shiny black scarab.

“Wow, take a look at this thing,” just as he finishes saying that, the scarab animates; hopping out of his hand and burrowing straight into his chest, too quickly for him to react.  After a gurgle and a spray of blood, Eltharion lay dead; his heart eaten out entirely.

“By Tempus…” Blaze approached Eltharion.  He picked up his body and carried him back to the orc camp.  He set the body down and began to pray.  Fifteen minutes later he cast _raise dead _ and brought Eltharion back.  After digging out the scarab and putting it into a wooden jar, of course.

“Wh, what happened?” Eltharion asked, his chest throbbing in pain.

“That thing you picked up just chewed you up,” Blaze cast cure serious wounds and Eltharion felt much better.  Blaze held up the jar with the scarab in it, shaking it around.

“Hm, I’ll hold onto that, just in case we run across someone we don’t like,” Eltharion put the jar into his bags.

“All right already, are we going to kill some giants or what?” Bink asks, getting impatient.

“Go down back the way you came, and there are some giants working the passage.  You should be able to hear them from the hallway,” the orc explains.  “We wish you well.”

“Thanks,” Bink says, and the five of them head back out into the hallway.

Grog grips his oversized katana, looking around tentatively.  Eltharion sneaks from wall to wall, though, his flaming scimitar keeps him from being able to hide.  Jezda follow and Blaze does too.  Bink strolls out unconcerned.  They round the corner and see three 18 foot tall men with grey skin, sitting around in a circle, playing cards of some kind.  The giants don’t notice the Heroes.  The Heroes take advantage.

Grog flies into a furious rage; spittle flying and eyes bloodshot; into one of the giants.  He slams his katana into the giant’s back, drawing a loud yell.  Jezda similarly charges in, swinging his greatsword with a masterful stroke, and slices into the same giant.  Eltharion runs in as well, slashing the giant with his sylvan scimitar.  Blaze comes in last, charging a different giant.  He swells up; his armor squeaking and squealing.

“TEMPUS!!” Blaze’s axe crashes into the giant with an thundering snap.  It must have broken two or three of the giant’s ribs, and the giant collapsed, his heavy breathing slowing as the blood poured from the very mortal wound.

Bink’s, and everyone else’s, eyes went wide at the power behind this man’s axe.  He regained his composure, cast _haste_ and then shot a _lightning bolt_ at the already injured giant.  It scorched him, though he was able to duck out of the way somewhat.

Two of the giants stood up.  The one next to Eltharion, Grog and Jezda withdrew a few feet, setting himself.  The other one lashed out with a stone club, striking Grog on the head.  Grog saw stars, but the rage in his eyes was enough to overcome them.  The giant on the ground, one hand clutching the terrible wound, kicked Blaze in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Blaze chopped down two more times, hacking into the giant’s stomach and then neck, practically severing its head.  Eltharion charged at the remaining two, and took two club-hits for his trouble.  He was staggered severely, and barely got up to the giant to swing his sword.

Grog and Jezda faced similar hits as they charged, both taking rough club hits before striking the injured giant.

Bink flew into position and fired off two _lightning bolts _ in a way to hit both of them with each.  They both dodged well enough, and were still standing after substantial burns.

Blaze charged in, and took two devastating club hits.  One to his chest knocked the wind out of him again, and the other to the head knocked him unconscious.

Both giants moved back away from the Heroes, staying side by side.

Grog ran in again, taking another two hits.  He was barely able to stay standing; only the adrenaline from his rage pumping the blood through his veins.  He jumped and with an overhead slash, cut the injured giant down, spilling its entrails all over Grog.  He didn’t seem to care.

Eltharion and Jezda charged the last giant, slashing it violently.  Both of them dodged the club hits, and both of them scored deep slashes against the thing’s legs.  Bink finished it off with ten _magic missiles_.  Eltharion and Bink healed Grog and Blaze respectively, making sure they were both okay.

“Okay, gather around,” Bink took out his _staff of size alteration _ and shrunk everyone in the party, so that he could teleport them all more easily.  In a flash, they were back in castle Brunswick’s laboratory.

Off to the lich’s lair!  If he is a magic item collector, how many magic items does he have?  How much can the Heroes plunder?  This and more, next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 5, 2004)

“So you can’t find them?” Bink asks Adlai nervously.

“No, damn.  Something is blocking scrying from Trek and The Necromancer,” Adlai replies, defeated.

“Well, they can take care of themselves.  I think,” Bink says.  “We’re going to head out to Velkvir’s domain now.”

“Good luck,” Adlai states.

Bink heads back down stairs to the main hall.  Blaze, Grog, Jezda, Damaré, Eltharion and Ogrim are waiting.

“All right, I’m going to teleport to Velkvir’s lair with Ogrim, Grog and Eltharion.  Need the least weight possible so I won’t have to shrink everyone to get back, in case we get in a bind,” Bink explains.  “We’ll go in, get as much info on Velkvir we can…”

“Don’t you mean, steal as many of his magic items as we can?” Eltharion puts in.

Bink and Adlai’s studies have shown Velkvir to be a magic item collector.  With him down in the southern forest with the green dragon, the Heroes hope to ransack his home.

“Well, I only need one magic item,” Bink was referring to the book that Indiffines the Wretched, the evil eryines, had commissioned him to retrieve.  “After Ogrim, Grog, Eltharion and I return, we’ll all go to the southern forest and help the king kill Velkvir and that dragon.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ogrim states.

“What about you?” Eltharion asks Blaze.

“Well, I’d be glad to go kill an undead wizard.  They’re the worst of the lot,” Blaze responds.

“Why were you over in that jail in the giant’s stronghold?” Bink asks.

“My brother, Blaine, and I, went over there to try to stop the giants.  They’re going to be building a bridge to the mainland, and I couldn’t let that happen,” Blaze started.  “So, we found out where one of their strongholds was, and we went in.  We split up, to cover more ground, and I found myself surrounded by giants.  They threw me in jail until they could have me taken to their other locations, they said.  Then, you guys showed up.”

“Do you know what happened to your brother?” Eltharion asks.

“No, and we said, that if for whatever reason we got separated, that we’d eventually meet up at the Adventurer’s Guildhall,” Blaze says.  “I know my brother can take care of himself, so I’ll just head to the Guildhall sooner or later, and see if I can meet up with him.  Until then, I’d love the chance to do some damage to that undead wizard.”

“Then you’re in,” Eltharion states proudly.  “How about you guys?  What happened?”

“Well, me, Jezda, Trek and The Necromancer got put in front of the big wooden building,” Grog started.  “We snuck in and checked out the place.  After a while, there were just too many giants.  We got caught.  The Necromancer and Trek were taken somewhere else, cause they were humans.  They might have information.  Me an’ Jezda were just greenskins.  Didn’t know nothing...” Grog paused.

“They took Grog out and kicked him around for a while each day.  Playing some game, trying to kick him between some trees…  They liked him because he could take so many kicks and keep getting back up.” Jezda put in.

“I’ll kill them… next time I see giants… I’ll kill them…” Grog mumbles.

“Well, okay, I think that’s enough reminiscing.  Let’s get going,” Bink prepares his teleportation spell.  Thinking about the illustrations and descriptions he had memorized over the last few days, he cast _teleport_.  Reality slipped out of view, and then snapped back in.  Ogrim, Grog, Eltharion and Bink were standing in a barren wasteland.  Off in the distance they could see a dilapidated castle of some kind.

The air was cold, dead.  An uneasy feeling washed over them.  This place wasn’t right.

“Do you feel that?  It’s like cold fingers…” Eltharion starts.

“Nothing has been alive out here for centuries.  Deadlands,” Bink states, looking around.  They start walking toward the ruined building.

They reach it.  It is a two story building.  Looks like a modest keep, or at least was one.  Now it’s beyond disrepair.  Sections of the wall are missing.  Hinges are irrevocably rusted.  Wood is rotting and brittle.

“Let’s take a look around,” Bink says, entering the half-open decayed front doorway.  

“Stay here, I’ll search around,” Eltharion says, sneaking forward, staying hidden.  Bink, Ogrim and Grog follow, despite Eltharion’s plea.

They search the two floors.  On the first, they find a throne room, kitchen, and dining area.  The second floor has an open-ceiling area and many rooms.  The rooms have beds, desks, vanities, but are all dusty, broken, and unusable.  Stairs lead to the roof where one can look down onto the open air-garden in the center of the second floor.  All the plants are long dead, of course.  No organic matter is left.

“This place is empty.  No magic item collection.  No nothing,” Eltharion states.

“Maybe he moved everything when he left for the forest,” Bink says.

“Maybe ye aint lookin hard enough, elf,” Ogrim adds.

“I’ll search again,” Eltharion goes back to the entrance, examining the ground for tracks or traces.  “I think I got something…”

He follows what he thinks are traces of old footprints around the first floor.  They lead into the kitchen and stop right in front of the large iron stove.

Eltharion scratches his head.

“The tracks end.  You think maybe he came here, then teleports?  Or something?” Eltharion is perplexed.  The Heroes sit and ponder for a while.

After a few minutes of thinking, Ogrim gruffly stands and pushes the stove out of the way.  A passage opens, revealing a staircase leading down.

“Let’s get goin’,” Ogrim grunts, heading down the stairs first.

Eltharion and Bink shrug, and Grog follows closely after.  The stairs decend quickly, and soon they are in a small hallway.  Every few feet there is a divet in the wall with a small candle burning.  All of the candles are almost completely melted away.  The passage stinks of rotting flesh.

“That’s disgusting, Grog,” Bink says.

“Not me!” Grog states, holding his nose.

The passage splits off, continuing straight, or hooking back to the right.  They turn right and soon reach a spiraling staircase, leading down.  They go, cautiously, and weapons drawn.

At the bottom, the passage is ten feet wide and 12 feet tall.  Two huge golden inscribed doors stand in front of them.  The inscription reads:

_Velkvir, Salménmalón the Learnéd, Iuz the Corpse King hold vestry within these halls.  Power beyond comprehension lays here._​
And underneath, a smaller inscription:

_Fools and heroes alike have fallen to the endless grip of time and space.  Thousands have tried before and failed.  Thousands shall try and fail again.  Knowledge is power.  Power is true living.  This is all you need to know._​
A flash of magic washes over the Heroes after they read the writing, however, none of them succumb to the _symbol’s_ effects.

“What was that?” Grog asks.

“Magic.  Don’t worry, we’re okay,” Bink puts a hand on the door, and it slides open easily.

The hallway beyond was obviously lavishly decorated, but recently ransacked.  Several doors are on each side of the hall.  There are several pedestals lining the hallway as well.  All have plaques with inscriptions.  The Heroes investigate.  

Two items are setting on pedestals.  One has an elaborately embroidered robe.  It has bright and vibrant rainbow colors.  The plaque says “Technicolor Dreamcoat.”  Bink picks it up.  The other item is a small purple stone.  The plaque says “Spell Stone.”  Bink picks that up as well.

“Hey, watch it… traps,” Ogrim states.  They read each the rest of the plaques; they all have no items atop the pedestals.

_Amulet of the Crab
Ring of Immunity
The Wards
Floaters
Spell Stone
Horn of Blasting
Cloak of the Ghost
The Vanisher
The Jeweled Helm of Kreg
Blade of Neverinth
Technicolor Dreamcoat
Titan’s Flange
Jhavnin’s Stone
Glowing Stone_

Eltharion finds a piece of paper on the ground, and he reads it aloud:

_Korbadur,
	The storming of Tovag Baragu has all but come to fruition.  Gather your best men and their best men.  We set out in one day.

	Once you have secured your troops, meet in the treasure chamber.  You and your men will arm with Velkvir’s collection and we will set out.

	Be sure to stop off on the way to get the celebration supplies; alcohol, food, and whatever else to keep your men motivated and happy.

	The temple will be heavily guarded, so be prepared.  Once we find Vecna and the Dwemors he’s unknowingly in possession of, I shall kill him, claim them, and ascend to true God-hood.

	You and all your surviving men will be rewarded with gold and power beyond your wildest imaginations.  Korbadur, act with haste.

-the Corpse King
	Iuz_

“Looks like we were late,” Eltharion says, after he reads the letter.

“They already took everything… Damn, I wonder if the book is gone too…” Bink says.  “Let’s check out the rooms.”

Each door has an inscription over it.

_Oathbow
Luckblade
Sword of Kas
Hall of the Corpse King
The Sun
The Moon
Hall of Salménmalón the Learnéd
Hall of Velkvir
Hellcast
Murasamé_

“Well, let’s start on this end and work our way to the other,” Bink says.  Ogrim pushes open the first door.  Inside is a very small room, with a pedestal, and another plaque.

_Oathbow:  A great elven warrior wizard crafted this powerful weapon to seek vengeance on all of his enemies.  Overestimating his own power, he challenged the Corpse King Iuz for past persecution of elves, and fell in glorious battle._

The pedestal is empty.  The party moves on to the next room.

_Luckblade:  This blade didn’t bestow as much luck as its past weilders would have hoped for._

The pedestal is empty.  At the side of the room, another plaque hangs on a wall.

_Hammer of Thunderbolts:  Liberated from the mediocre hero Donovan Grumoile in the year of 688._

There is nothing hanging from the peg.  The Heroes move on to the next room.

“Man, I wonder why they left this robe,” Bink says, having donned the rainbow-colored robe.

“Well… look at it…” Eltharion muses.

_Sword of Kas:  It is said that this blade can cut down the false-God Vecna.  Forged by Vecna himself and given to his greatest general Kas, he was betrayed by Kas and the blade._

The pedestal is empty.  They move on.  The next room is much larger than the single-item rooms.

_Hall of the Corpse King Iuz_

Books line every wall except where the back wall is, behind a desk and chair.  Bink’s eyes shift into the magical spectrum and he sees twelve books radiating magic.  The Heroes pile them into a large sack.  They read a little about Iuz, and head out to the next room.

_The Moon_

When they open the door to this room, everything inside is pitch black, except for a pedestal about fifty feet away.  It is emitting a faint green glow, and a scimitar is floating above it.  The Heroes approach cautiously.

“Why would they take everything else, but leave this nice looking scimitar…” Eltharion’s question is answered before anyone else can say anything.  The door behind them fades out of view, and all of a sudden, behind them, there is another pedestal with a golden-glowing sickle floating atop it.  _The Sun _ room had merged with _The Moon _ room.  It was one long pitch black hallway.  And they could feel the chill setting in.  Something cold, too cold.  Something evil.  Something unnatural.  A huge, 20 foot tall pitch-black humanoid figure falls from above them, landing in their midst.  The light from Eltharion’s flaming scimitar reveals the dark pools of negative energy that are its eyes.

Can the Heroes find a way out of this one?  Is greed worth it?  How good are The Sun and The Moon?  Find out all this, and more, next time!


----------



## the Jester (Oct 5, 2004)

Is that a nightwalker?  What level are the pcs??


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 5, 2004)

the Jester said:
			
		

> Is that a nightwalker?  What level are the pcs??



Yes, yes indeed it is.  Back then (in 3.0) they weren't as bad, but were still a handful.  I post the character's levels back in post number 1, but mabye I should update after each post as well.  I'll put the character's levels here, just so you can see.

*Eltharion Ulthuan * - Elf Ranger 5/Druid 5/Ancestral Avenger 5.  S16 D23* C10 I13 W14 Ch12.

*Ogrim Oakenshield * - Dwarf Fighter 8/Cleric of Moradin 1/Dwarven Defender 6.  S18 D14 C19 I13 W15 Ch12.

*Bink the Sorcerer * - Human Sorcerer 7/Wizard 2/Eldritch Master 6.  S15 D15 C15 I15 W14 Ch18.

*Grog of Grumbar * - Goblin Barbarian 15.  S18 D16 C17 I10 W14 Ch9.

Any other PC/NPC/Villain questions are welcome.

That goes for all of you, not just the Jester.  I know you're out there!!


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 6, 2004)

Eltharion immediately jumped back, running toward the floating scimitar.  Grog slammed his katana into the creature’s leg.  His blade was practially stopped by the unnatural shadowy force, cutting in just barely.  Ogrim stomped his feet down and entered the dwarven defensive stance.  He chopped out at the thing three times; his axe affecting it fully.  Cold negative shadow energy spilled out from the thing’s wounds.

Bink stepped back as well, looking at Eltharion, then at the floating sickle.  He cast _haste_ and then _mage hand_, lifting the sickle and bringing it to Eltharion from across the room.  Eltharion quickly grasped it and the scimitar, spinning them around masterfully, approaching the huge monster.

The thing attacked.  Its eyes, cold pools of negative energy, flared up as it grabbed onto Grog’s katana.  It pulled the weapon out of Grog’s hands and snapped it cleanly in half, tossing the two pieces away.

Grog boiled over.  His eyes went bloodshot and his blood started pumping at an alarming rate.

Eltharion ducked and weaved past a shadowy fist and struck.  The light coming from the sickle was blinding.  It was as bright as day in the large room, now that Eltharion was wielding the sickle.  The light diminished the negative energy around the creature, but didn’t kill it.  Eltharion slashed in with both the sickle and scimitar.  The sickle passed right through the creature.  The scimitar, however, didn’t; it struck the monster, shadowy smoke seeping from the deep wound.

Bink cast two fast _lightning bolts _ at the monster, one of them dissipating harmlessly, the other one burning into the evil creature.

Grog pulled out his _+5 dagger _ that he’d been carrying around for so long and never used.  He grabbed it with both hands (since it was sized for a normal person) and stabbed into the monster’s leg hard… too hard.  The spittle was flying and he was angry.  With a loud roar he struck the beast and slashed a long cut down its leg.  If the nightwalker could scream, it would.  Ogrim followed suit by striking the thing another three times with well-placed axe blows.

The thing took a step back, pointing a finger at Ogrim.  A thin line of pulsating negative energy struck him; he felt his life being drained away, but he gritted his teeth and warded off the effect.

Eltharion held up the sickle, trying to blind the beast with it, while he struck low with the scimitar.  He cut into the thing’s three times.  The beast was slowing down.

Bink launched a volley of ten _magic missiles_, all of them striking home, pelting the creature with massive damage.

Grog, roaring and crazy, jammed his dagger into the beast over and over, missing once out of his three strikes.  The two that hit were extremely powerful blows, sending the creature staggering back another step.  Ogrim chopped down into the thing’s foot, then its shin.

“We’re overwhelming it!” Eltharion yelled.

The beast looked down at Eltharion, the pools of evil that were its eyes were so terrible that Eltharion could not move.  The beast then cast _haste_ and _cone of cold_; razor sharp shards of ice ripping through Ogrim and Grog, but both remain standing.

Eltharion was frozen in fear, but Bink was not.  Bink launched another ten magic missiles, five of them dissipating, but the other five pummeling the creature heavily.  Grog and Ogrim layed into the thing with another round of furious attacks, and it was all but finished.  Ogrim’s final attack with his Orc-Killer sent the thing staggering backward.  It fell, but before it hit the ground, a flash of negative energy poured over everyone, and the thing exploded into misty shadow-stuff.  The battle was won.

The room quickly faded back into the magic-item hallway.  They were standing in the middle of the hall, The Sun and The Moon room’s doorways were open, and both pedestals were empty.  Eltharion twisted the weapons around, inspecting them more closely.

“Hey, nice blades.  Now we know why they didn’t take those when they grabbed everything else.  Didn’t want to have to fight that monster,” Bink said.

The scimitar was extremely ornate.  The blade was made out of a strange material, it almost looked like stone, but was extremely strong.  The tip of the blade had a half-moon engraved in it.  The pommel also looked like his hand was surrounded by a half-moon shape.  It emitted a faint green glow.

The sickle was equally ornate.  Difficult to look directly at while it was wielded, as it emitted such a bright light.  Eltharion set it down and looked closely.  A flaming sun design was on the middle of the blade, and the pommel had the same design.

Eltharion sheathed the blades and went into each room, reading the plaques.

_The Sun and The Moon:  These blades were forged by Meiliki herself to be used by her greatest champion._

“Nice…” Eltharion mused to himself.

Grog picked up the pieces of his katana, grumbling quietly.  

“We’ll get it fixed for you, don’t worry,” Bink’s words made Grog smile a toothy maw.

The Heroes gathered themselves, Eltharion healed everyone who needed it and they moved on to the next door.

_Hall of Salménmalón the Learnéd_

The room is cluttered.  Open books are all over the floor and desk.  Each one describes some obscure magical spell or arcane writing.

“You’d think he was preparing a lecture…” Bink looked around in the spectrum of magic.  He saw nothing.  They moved on.

_Hall of Velkvir_

In place of a desk, there is a large glass case.  Inside is a perfectly preserved body of an aging man.  A book case is on either side of the glass.

“You think, you think that’s him?” Eltharion asked.

“Maybe it’s a spare body…” Bink wondered.  He looked into the case closely.  The man was wearing pretty ordinary looking robes.  Bink saw magic present, covering the glass and coming from the body itself.

“I’ll take care of it,” Ogrim slammed his axe down into the glass, but it bounced off harmlessly.

“I don’t think we can, or need to, do anything to this.  We’ll have our chance at him later,” Bink reasoned.  They moved on to the next room.

_Murasamé_

This room, like all the other item rooms, has a pedestal in the center.  Atop this one is a sheathed katana.  Two skeletons lay next to the pedestal, both of them have their hands on the sword.  They read the plaque.

This exotic blade was possessed by a samurai warrior from a neighboring continent.  He was on a mission to uncover the secrets of and map out this continent.  Only those with a true warrior’s spirit and an iron constitution can ever wield this blade.

“Be careful…” Bink says, but Grog is already walking toward it, his eyes gleaming.

“Don’t touch it,” Eltharion starts, but Grog interrupts.

“This is my destiny… I can feel it…”

“Grog, this is an orc’s, and this is an ogre’s skeleton.  Not that old, either…” Eltharion says.

“I can feel it…” Grog paused, then closed his eyes and grabbed the hilt of the sword.  Nothing happened.

He pulled the blade out of the skeletal hands and held it up over his head.

_You are the brave one?_  A message in Grog’s head, coming from the blade.

“Yes,” Grog answered aloud.  Everyone else looked at eachother, perplexed.

“Yes what?” Bink asked.

_Then wield me and prove it._  A stream of thoughts came rushing into Grog’s head, and he felt aware.  He felt brave.  He felt closer to his friends than ever.

“I said, yes…” Bink repeated, but was cut off.

“Let’s go,” Grog said, attaching the sheath of the fine blade to his back.  He put his broken katana on top of the pedestal.

Ogrim, Eltharion and Bink looked at each other and shrugged, moving on to the last door.

_Hellcast:  This crossbow, said to be created on the Hellforge by Hephasto himself, rains devastating fire down upon its enemies._

The pedestal is empty.  They go back out into the hallway.  Another set of golden doors is at the end of the hall.

“Looks like you can enter from both sides.  Let’s go out this way and see what else they have down here,” Bink says.  Ogrim pushes open the huge golden doors, and they glide open easily.

They are once again in a dimly-lit corridor, only candles on either wall providing any light.  They follow the passage and see a door, and a staircase leading up.  They choose the stairs, and find themselves on a balcony of sorts.  The center of the huge room has a large pile of carrion, feces, bones, and rotting flesh.  Hanging from the top of the chamber is a large chandelier of bones and skulls, lit up with candles.  The smell is terrible.

The balcony surrounds this pile of flesh, and they see six doorways leading away from the center.  There is also an open passageway, that they can see it lit with candles like the other paths.

“I think that open pathway is where we would have gone if we chose the other way, back when we first got in here,” Bink surmises.  They approach one of the doors.  Ogrim opens it a crack and peers in.

“And this is how to properly mouth the spell.  You must let your tongue glide across the top of your mouth, take it from me, I am Salménmalón the Learnéd, and … you!” a rotting, robe-covered man stands at the front of a large stadium shaped lecture hall.  Ogrim was looking down from the top.  Many of the seats were filled with equally rotting people.  Most of them get out of their seats and start shuffling toward the Heroes, groaning softly.

“You are late for class again!  Time for detention!” the rotted man gurgled, seemingly delighted.  Ogrim slammed the door, and the party ran toward the open passage.

The pile of flesh then animated.  A huge tentacle of bone and flesh rose up, striking out at Eltharion, who led the pack.  It hit him squarely in the chest, sending him sprawling.  He hopped up and kept running.

The undead teacher then materialized in their midst.  Eltharion, Ogrim and Bink were able to get into the passage, but Grog was not.  He jumped and grabbed onto the teacher, pinning him to the ground.

“Run!  I’ll catch up!” Grog yelled as he headbutted the teacher again and again.

“You’re going to be expelled if you keep that up!” the eccentric undead creature stated.

Grog pushed the teacher off the balcony and down into the pile of flesh.  Grog didn’t wait around to see him hit the ground.  He was off and running.

The group reached the stairs and stopped, waiting for Grog.  Ten seconds later, he arrived.

“Let’s go!” Eltharion yelled.

“Patience…” Bink gathered everyone in close and cast _teleport_.  The world faded into a milky nothingness, and faded back in.  They were in the laboratory in castle Brunswick.

“Whew…” Eltharion sat down on a nearby chair.

“What a day…” Bink said.

“I’m gettin’ a drink,” Ogrim grunts.

“Me too,” Grog follows.

Bink goes and finds Adlai, Blaze, Damaré and Jezda.  He tells them what happened, and to start getting ready.  They’d be leaving for the southern forest tomorrow.

Adlai decides to scry the king, and Bink follows.  Adlai casts the spell, and both of them watch the mirror.  The image that shows up is a bit confusing.

Wallace is standing in a grassy field.  A blonde human female is approaching him.  She is wearing dark robes and holds out a glowing amulet.  They stand facing each other without words for several minutes.

“Fine, I agree to your terms.  You may cast one spell upon me, if you promise to leave the other towns in this region alone, and calloff the dragon,” Wallace says proudly.

“I’m glad we have an understanding.  This won’t hurt a bit,” and the woman begins to cast a spell, holding out the amulet.

“Isn’t that spell _magic jar_?” Bink asks.

“Looks like it.  But that can’t affect Wallace, he’s a deity,” Adlai puts in.

A bright flash blocks their view.  After the light subsides, the scrying spell ends.

“What, what happened?” Bink asks.

“I don’t know.  The spell should last for an hour, at least,” Adlai responds.

“Hm, not good.  I’ll tell everyone that we’re leaving early in the morning.  Need to see what happened as soon as possible,” Bink says.  “Was that lady Velkvir?”

“Pretty simple for a lich of that power to take over a new body to use every once in a while, and pretty common, too,” Adlai replies.

The Heroes make their preparations (or drink) for the next day.

“Jezda and I will go on horseback.  We should try to warn the other towns in the forest area about the dragon and lich before it attacks them.  You guys should go straight to Wallace,” Damaré offers.  Everyone agrees.

“Ready?” Bink asks.  Blaze, Ogrim, Grog, and Eltharion nod, grasping their weapons in preparation.

A lady lich?  Is Velkvir really that neurotic?  What ended the scry spell?  Find out the answers, next update!


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 6, 2004)

Loot Time!

Though it wasn’t much, it was enough.  I’ll list what they got, and give a more detailed description of the special items, below.

_Spell Stone_ – Vibrant Purple Ioun Stone

_Technicolor Dreamcoat_ – Robe of Scintillating Colors

12 Magical Books - Tome of Clear Thought +1 and +2, Tome of Leadership and Influence +1 and +2, Tome of Understanding +1 and +2, Manual of Bodily Health +1 and +2, Manual of Gainful Exercise +1 and +2, Manual of Quickness of Action +1 and +2.

_The Sun_ - +4 blinding energy sickle.  Emits a _daylight_ spell _heightened_ to 9th level.  As a standard action, you may blind anyone within 30 feet, as per the spell blindness/deafness.  DC 15 Fortitude save.

_The Moon_ - +4 keen scimitar.  Emits _true seeing _ within a five-foot radius around the blade.  The true sight of the blade reveals all illusions as per the spell, and everyone can see things as they truly are, not only the wielder of the blade.  As a standard action, you may stun anyone within 30 feet for 1d4+1 rounds.  DC 15 Fortitude save.

If both weapons are wielded simultaneously, you may invoke both blindness and stunning as a full-round action.  If the full attack option is used, you may forgo all attacks with one blade or the other (still taking -2 to the remaining attacks) and invoke either blinding or stunning (whichever blade you don’t attack with).

_Murasamé_ - +5 intelligent defending katana.  Int 18 Wis 12 Cha 12.  Can speak telepathically with the person who has the blade on them.  Grants Improved Initiative and _Find Traps _ (as the spell) when it is wielded.  If the wielder dies while protecting his friends/loyalties/master, they will be _true resurrected_.  This ability is gone after it is used once.  (Grog and the rest of the Heroes don’t know of this last ability.)


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## Droid101 (Oct 7, 2004)

Reality slips away, and in a flash, the Heroes find themselves surrounded by firey death.

Bink had concentrated hard on the location where he and Adlai had _scryed_ the day before.  He had teleported there correctly, but the scene was vastly different.

They were on the outskirts of a small town, surrounded by trees.  All of the buildings in the town were burning or collapsed.  Two bodies lay at their feet.  One of the woman they had seen the day before, and one was a very large man, wearing plate armor.  He had many cuts all over his body.

“That’s Grunge…” Bink says, looking away.

“Who?” Eltharion asked.

“One of Brunswick’s knights.  Search the bodies Eltharion.  Everyone else, spread out and look for survivors…” Bink orders.  Everyone complies, shaking their heads at the carnage.

A few minutes later, everyone can hear Blaze’s voice calling.

“Come over here!  I found someone!” and everyone comes running.  “Tempus!” Blaze yells and lifts off some heavy wooden beams and debris from the bleeding man.  His head is covered in blood and he has burns all over.

“Felix!” Bink says when he reaches them.

“Who?” Eltharion asks.

“Felix Stromdak, another one of the king’s knights,” Bink explains.

“Man, am I ever glad to see you…” Felix’s voice is weak.  Blaze casts heal on the man, closing up his serious wounds.  “Thanks.  That’s much better.”

“What happened here?” Eltharion asks.

“Well, let’s just say, you showed up a little late.  I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I saw Velkvir, in that female’s body, go up to Wallace.  She held a peculiar stone forth, and a giant explosion of white light flashed.  Once my eyes cleared, I saw Wallace standing, and the female laying on the floor.  Wallace bent down, picked up her belongings, and put her cloak on over his own.  I knew something was off about it.

“Right afterwards, Grunge, who was hiding in the forest near them, charged forward.  Wallace spun and countered… after a few short seconds, Grunge was shredded to pieces…

“Wallace cast a spell and flew up over the city.  That’s when I decided something was definitely off, and I ran.  I left my position on the roof of this building, but when I got to the bottom of the stairs, a huge explosion erupted around me.  I was knocked out cold.  I’ve been nursing myself back to full strength here before I was going to venture back to the castle.”  Felix takes a long breath after he finishes.

“Well, we’ve got more pressing matters.  We have reason to believe that the dragon that teamed up with Velkvir is still terrorizing towns around here.  We need to move out and warn the other towns,” Bink says.

“Actually Brolin was tailing the dragon from the ground.  And Gordon was racing ahead to the next town to warn them,” Felix says.

“Do you know any landmarks from the next town?” Bink asks.

“Sure, there’s a big ornate fountain,” Felix replies.  “Why?”

“Describe it for me… we’re going to teleport there,” Bink says.

Felix does his best to describe the town square.

“Everybody ready?” Bink asks.

“Let’s get going.  We don’t want the next town looking like this one…” Eltharion says.

Bink shrinks everybody with his _staff of size alteration_, and then _teleports_.  They arrive in the middle of a pretty bustling town square.  Many citizens are walking around doing business, and are caught off-guard by the shrunken adventurers.  Bink ends the _reduce_ spells, returning everyone to normal size.

“Do you know if there’s a mayor?  Can we meet the mayor?” Bink asks a couple of passers by, who look at him strangely and move on.

“Damn.  I wonder if Gordon has gotten here yet…” Felix hefts his flintlock longrifle onto his back.

After a little bar hopping and information gathering, they find Gordon.

“Felix!  How are you?” Gordon greets his fellow knight with a hug.

“Not so hot.  Gruge is down, and the king has gone crazy,” Felix says.  Gordon looks perplexed.

“The lich Velkvir cast a spell, and we think that he somehow took over his body, placing his soul in a gem,” Bink explains.

“But, he’s a deity… simple magic like that can’t work on him, can it?” Gordon asks.

“Something strange happened.  We’re still not sure why.  But anyway, have you warned the town yet?” Bink asks.

“Yes, I’ve met with the town elders, and they are skeptical.  Maybe if you come with me, they’ll believe us,” Gordon said, and the Heroes agree.

Gordon McDale, Felix Stromdak, Bink the Sorcerer, Grog of Grumbar, Eltharion Ulthuan, Ogrim Oakenshield and Blaze Brague head to town hall.  The elders agree to talk to them.

“Come in, I see you have brought friends,” one of the elderly men speaks.

“Yes, and they can attest to what I have told you,” Gordon says.  Bink steps forward.

“Listen, we just came from Forlis, the next town over, and it has been completely destroyed.  The dragon is on its way here now.  It’s only a matter of time before it arrives and destroys your town too.” Bink says calmly and coolly.  His eyes almost hypnotic.

“And, all of you say this is true?” the elder asks.

“By the mark of Brunswick, I swear it to be true,” Felix says, and the others nod in agreement.

“All right, we’ll take your word for it, then.  What do you suggest we do?” the man asks.

“Evacuate the city for a few days, so we can prepare a defense.  We don’t think the dragon is looking to kill people.  We think it is under orders or magically compelled to destroy all the nearby cities,” Bink explains.  “And also point us to anybody who lives here who might be able to help us.”

“All right, we’ll get started on the evacuation.  Go to the church and ask for the head priest.  He should be able to help you.  There is also an alchemist shop.  Find it, and the owner will help as well, most likely,” the elderly man says, standing up with the rest of the council to spread the word.

“Okay, Felix, Gordon, you go and find any kind of siege weaponry this town might have.  Blaze, Ogrim, you guys go to the church and enlist the head priest.  Eltharion, Grog and I will go to the alchemist,” Bink orders.  Everyone heads off.

………

“So, do you have anything we can use?” Gordon asks impatiently.

“We have two small ballista.  That’s it.  We were never really prepared for a big attack or anything,” the head of the guard says.

“That’ll do.  Have them moved onto the two highest buildings in town.  We’ll man them, so after you get them moved, evacuate with the others,” Gordon says, matter-of-factly.

“Will do,” the guard replies.

………

“But we really need your help,” Blaze pleads.

“Look, I have taken a Vow of Peace.  I will not take place in violence,” the middle-aged priest of Waukeen says.

“Is there anything you can do to help us, before ye evacuate?” Ogrim asks.

“Of course.  Just because I won’t take place in the violence, doesn’t mean I am heartless.  You fight for our town, and for that I am thankful.  I have a scroll you may use as you see fit,” the priest goes into a back room, and comes out, handing Blaze a scroll.  “It has the spell _Gate_ on it.  Please make good use of it.”

“Thank you very much, I’m sure it will be of use to us,” Blaze says.  “Be sure to evacuate soon.”

………

“Do you own the shop, or are you just a worker?” Bink asks the small goggle-clad gnome behind the desk at the alchemy shop.

“You know, we make more here than tanglefoot bags and acid…” the gnome chuckles.

“You didn’t answer my question.  Are you the owner?” Bink reiterates.

“Yes yes, I am the owner, and the only employee.  What do you want?” the gnome asks.

“We already told you, the town is being evacuated, and we need help fending off a dragon!” Eltharion is frustrated.

“Hm… I’m not much of a warrior.  But I’ll help however I can,” the gnome answers, adjusting his goggles.

“Thanks.  Maybe you can help with any siege weapons we get.  Make them, blow up or something,” Bink says.  Grog tugs on his Technicolor Dreamcoat.

“Time to go,” Grog says.

………

The Heroes meet up in town square.

“Okay, looks like we’ve got some help.  Let’s set up a defense and a plan,” Blaze says.

The next few days are long and nerve-wracking.  Felix spends most of each day up on a roof looking through the enchanted eye-piece on his flintlock longrifle, watching for the dragon.  Blaze, Gordon and Grog set up the ballistas.  The gnome helps to tip the ballista bolts with some explosive powder.  Bink makes a map of the town and its bigger buildings, hopefully to be able to make a feasible plan.  Eltharion spends his time scribing _Protection from Acid_ scrolls.

After two days, Damaré and Jezda arrive on horseback.

“Has the town been deserted?  What happened here?” Damaré asks.

“No, we evacuated.  Come on, we’re formulating our plan right now,” Bink says, leading Damaré and Jezda to the town square.

“All right, so this is what we’ve come up with.  Gordon will stand outside of town square by himself, hopefully luring the dragon in to attack him, solo.  Gordon will then run toward the river that is off to the square.  The rest of us will be here in town square as well.  We will follow Gordon, and try to engage the dragon near the river.  Since we know green dragon’s have an affinity for water, we’ll use that to our advantage.  We are counting on this.  While the battle is raging near the river, if someone can jump into the water, maybe that’ll lure the dragon to do likewise, to fight on its own turf.

“Once the bait has jumped into the water, Blaze will use the scroll of Gate and create a portal just under the surface of the river, but above the person who jumped in.  This way, when the dragon jumps in after, instead of getting a bite out of someone, it’ll end up in a different plane.  Blaze shuts the portal, and all is well.” Bink looks around at everyone.

“Seems like a longshot…” Eltharion says.  “But I’ll be the bait.  I’ll jump into the river.”

“All right, we got our bait.  Damaré and Jezda, you two man the ballistas.  Felix, you stay on a roof nearby and help by shooting the dragon.  Everyone else will be on the ground in town square, and will move over to the river,” Bink explains.

“I guess it’s the best we got,” Damaré says.

Gordon’s head snapped up.

“I just got a message from Brolin.  He’s been following the dragon.  He says the dragon is now heading this way.  It should be here tomorrow,” Gordon looked around at everyone.  His face was resolute.

“Let’s get ready…”

Can this crazy scheme work?  What could possibly go wrong?  Who could show up and ruin everything?  Get these questions answered next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 8, 2004)

None of the buildings were much higher than two stories, but Damaré, Jezda, and Felix held their ground on their respective rooftops.  Damaré and Jezda were both behind ballistats.  Felix was checking over his flintlock longrifle.

Down in the middle of town square Eltharion, Bink, Blaze, Grog, and Ogrim stood.  Eltharion had previously cast _protection from acid _ on everybody in the square.  Bink had _polymorphed_ himself into a troll.

“You think this is a good time to try these out?” Eltharion was holding his laser pistol and the other, stranger futuristic weapon he had stolen from the Kendri Starseal in the future.

“Maybe later,” Ogrim grunted, looking over his own laser pistol.

Gordon was off by himself, on the other side of a building.  He was waiting, hoping the dragon would be drawn in to attack him, as he was alone.

Around mid day, everyone was getting restless.

“Why hasn’t Gordon gotten another message from Brolin?  What could be the problem?” Bink wonders aloud.

Just as he says this, the Heroes see several dark forms atop the buildings surrounding them.  All of them are humanoid wearing dark concealing cloaks.  They all have crossbows aimed down at the party.  There is about ten of them in all.  One of them stands up; a familiar face.

“How inconvenient for me to show up, just before you have to fight a dragon,” Dendybar muses.  “I just love catching you off guard…”

“I’ve heard enough…” Eltharion pulls out the strange futuristic gun and fires it at Dendybar.

((To my surprise, I assure you.  I was thinking “Eh, he’ll probably miss.”

:: Dice roll… ::  “I got a 19, plus my dexterity and base attack, that’s a 38.”

“D’oh…”  So then, I was thinking “Eh, he’ll make his save.”  Fort DC 22, not so bad.  I look to his Dendybar’s character sheet.  Fort save +6.  DOH!  I always roll big deal rolls in front of the PCs.

:: Dice roll… ::  “Dude, there’s no way he makes it on a roll of a 5, right?” The PC asks me, as I watch my villain go bye-bye.))

A huge blast of bluish-black rippling energy flies at Dendybar.  Time and space ripples around the point of impact-Dendybar’s chest.  Finally, it looks like the very space around him folds in, and Dendybar is gone.

A volley of crossbow bolts pelts into the party.  Everyone dodges for the most part, and they burst into action.  

Ogrim, Blaze and Grog immediately sprint toward buildings, to try to climb up and kill the assassins with crossbows.  A form materializes about 40 feet above Eltharion and Bink; the spikey-haired dark elf, Kev’Zen.  A glowing psionically charged dagger appears in his hand, and he throws it down toward Blaze.  Repeat three more times.  Blaze stumbles to one knee, his body weakened by the sharp stabbing pain of the blade, and the subsequent stabbing pain to his mind.  The wounds are horrible; blood leaks from his armor at every crevice.

Bink casts _haste_ and then touches Eltharion to cast _fly_ on him.

“Go get him,” Bink says as he does so.  Eltharion obliges.  He holds his blades forth, the Moon scimitar and the Sun sickle.  The light from the Sun and the mysterious power of the Moon blind and stun Kev’Zen, who plummets to the ground.  Eltharion looks down at him, smiling.

“Prepare to die, dark elf scum,” Eltharion muses.

Far above them, a seemingly small shape passes overheard.  A voice is heard from one of the roofs a few hundred feet away.

“The dragon, the dragon!” Felix can be heard faintly shouting.

Something crashes down right next to Kev’Zen’s prone body.  Another body.  Slams down hard, after having been dropped from over 500 feet up.  The body is completely mutilated.  Huge bite marks and ripped flesh cover the once-human.  It’s also covered with acid burns.  A broken bow lands a few feet away.

Blaze _heals_ himself, staggering to his feet.  Ogrim and Grog start climbing nearby buildings, to get to the cloaked rogues.  Most of them start running, after seeing Dendybar die and Kev’Zen fall, stunned.

Eltharion cuts into Kev’Zen ruthlessly.  Stunned, he can’t really put up much of a defense, but doesn’t stop moving yet.

Kev’Zen regains the ability to move normally, and with an evil sneer, he manifests a power, and vanishes from view.

“Damn!” Eltharion curses, kicking the ground.

“That’s the least of our troubles,” Bink says, pointing to the dragon’s faint form dive to below their sight.

A few seconds pass, and they hear, from Gordon’s location on the other side of the building, a great inhalation, and then a splashing and sizzling sound.  The great green dragon then flies up over the building.

The thing is terrible, in every sense of the word.  Not only it the monster huge, it is terrifying.  Everyone is notably shaken from seeing the great beast.  

Several dweomers are apparent, as well.  The dragon is moving way too fast.  It also appears as though there are several different images of the dragon, side by side.  Couple all that with the image of the dragon being blurred, and the Heroes were mightly worried.

Eltharion ran toward the river, trying to look scared.  Bink cast _fly_.  Blaze got the scroll out and got ready to cast gate when the dragon went into the water.

Eltharion turned when he reached the river.  Ogrim pulled out his laser pistol and fired, taking out one of the mirror images.  Eltharion did the same, destroying another image.  The dragon, if it could smile, did so, as it landed in the midst of everyone.  He cast a spell, a _fireball_ streaking toward Blaze and Ogrim.  The fire enveloped both of them, though they were able to dodge out of the way of the brunt of the blast.  The smell of burnt hair and scorched flesh filled the air.  Another _fireball_ flew at Bink, who dodged out of the way as well, taking only minimal damage.

Bink cast _dispel magic _ and then _magic missile _ at the dragon.  The blur, the images, and the haste of the dragon were successfully dispelled.  The bolts slammed into the dragon.  The dragon didn’t flinch.

Partially surrounded, the dragon turned to Eltharion.  _I hope you know how to swim, morsel_, the dragon thought.  It took to the air and flew at him fast, too fast.  Eltharion had no time to jump into the river first.  The dragon placed a giant clawed hand into Eltharion’s body and pushed him into the river, diving in with him.

Blaze cast _gate_, opening a portal directly under the surface of the water.

“I banish you to HELL,” Blaze said with authority.  And so he did.

Eltharion and the dragon were expelled onto dry land, surrounded by barren gray wastelands.  Firey explosions and volcanic activity could be seen off in the distance.  The sky was covered in dark, black clouds.  Eltharion and the dragon fell to the ground quite unceremoniously.

“Uh oh…” Bink’s troll-mouth said.  Bink took to the air and flew into the gate himself.

“Don’t close it until we get back!” Bink yelled as he went in.

Eltharion was flying out just as Bink was flying in.

Bink landed right next to the dragon.  He chuckled and shot a volley of ten _magic missiles_ into it.  They pelted him, but didn’t seem to bother him much.

_Troll morsel… I know how much you love acid…_ the dragon thought.  He went through his normal routine.  He closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and let the acid fly.  A huge stream of sticky acidic liquid spewed forth, completely engulfing Bink, who didn’t even attempt to dodge.  He grinned at the dragon, and flew up out the gate, completely undamaged.  The dragon looked on in shock.

Bink emerged from the river and Blaze immediately closed the portal.

“Whew…” Bink said as he let his spell end, returning to human form.

“Glad that’s over…” Eltharion said, soaking wet.

“Who was this, I wonder…” Blaze said, looking down at the body the dragon dropped.

“He was carrying a bow?  Sounds like Brolin Flystrigth, one of the king’s knights.  Maybe that’s why we didn’t get another message from him,” Bink reasons.

Damaré, Jezda and Felix have since left their rooftop posts and gathered in the town square.

“That’s Brolin all right.  Not that I can recognize him, but the armor, the seal, that was him.  I think I’m going to be sick…” Felix turns away.  Grog come running back from around the building where Gordon was stationed.

“Gordon doesn’t look much better…” Grog said, holding up Gordon’s polished sword.  “This is all that isn’t a puddle.”

Bink went around to investigate himself.  Sure enough, that sticky acid was everywhere.  Half of the building Gordon was standing by was melted away, as well.  Nothing was left of Gordon, not armor, not flesh, not anything.  Bink returned to the group.

“Sorry Felix, I know you were close with them,” Bink said.

“No kidding, I can’t believe this.  The king is gone, the knights are gone.  Adlai and I are the only ones left…” Felix sits down on the ground in a bit of shock.

Suddenly, the blade Grog was holding vanishes, and a young man with blonde hair and blue eyes appears next to Grog, wearing basic white clothing.

“Hello everyone.  I’m Helian,” the man says.

“Isn’t that the name of a town?” Eltharion asks himself, nobody listens.

“Who are you?” Bink asks the man.

“I am the blade, and the blade is me.  Gordon has wielded me for many years.  I was saddened to see him fall,” the man explains.

“Interesting.  Well, we’re sad as well.  Felix can wield you until we get back to the castle and figure out what to do next,” Bink says.

“That will be fine.  Felix was a close friend of Gordon.  I would like that, very much,” the man vanishes, and the blade reappears, this time in Felix’s grasp.  Felix sheaths the blade and stays seated, pondering.

“Let’s let the townspeople know that they can come home.  We need to get back to the castle, in cast Velkvir actually did take over Wallace’s body.  We don’t want another imposter running around,” Eltharion says.  The group goes to the refuge spot for the town and lets the elders know it is safe.

The following day, Bink uses his _staff of size alteration _ to make everybody small, and _teleports_ back to Brunswick.

“Let’s find Adlai,” the group marches toward the castle.

Is Velkvir in the king’s body?  How can they get him out?  How can a magic jar work on a deity?  These questions and others will be answered next time.


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## Droid101 (Oct 11, 2004)

“What do you mean, we can’t come in?  Let us talk to Adlai, come on,” Eltharion tries to push past the guard at the door of castle Brunswick, but is halted.

“On orders from the king and Adlai, nobody is to enter, except for you,” the guard points to Felix, who walks past him and goes in.

“But the king is an imposter!” Eltharion protests.

“Yes, yes, that was last week, remember?  This is the real king,” the guard responds.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let Adlai know, and see if I can get you all in here,” Felix says, nodding to the Heroes.

The rest of them head over to a nearby inn.

“I’m going to the bar… I need a drink,” Eltharion says.  Bink and Ogrim go with him.  Grog, Jezda, Damaré and Blaze get rooms and relax.

At the tavern, Eltharion kicks back with an ale.  After an hour of drinking, a man clad in black approaches Eltharion.

“Well met, friend,” the man offers his hand.  It is Donald McGraw, the thief who stole Dendybar’s hat.  The one that Eltharion had chased before, thinking it was Dendybar himself.

“Ah, Donald, nice to see you.  What’s happening?”  Eltharion asks.  Bink and Ogrim listen in.

“Are they with you?” Donald asks, looking to Bink.

“Yes, don’t worry.  This is Bink and Ogrim.  They are friends,” Eltharion says.

“I’m Donald McGraw,” he says, looking back to Eltharion.  “I’ve got some bad news.  I have a feeling that my Guildboss, Pignose Jack, is being manipulated.  He’s been acting really strange recently, and just put me up to a really odd job.  I was supposed to go in and do it tomorrow, but I heard you all were back in town…”

“Wow, fast work, we’ve only been here for an hour or so,” Bink says.

“My sources are many.  Anyway, I came to get your opinion, since I know you guys are close to the king and all.  I was told to go in and steal something from the castle.  Pretty big deal, but there’s more.  I had a feeling one of my guildmates was acting funny as well.  And sure enough, while I was on my way here to see you, I found this planted on me,” Donald tosses something to Eltharion.  It is a small vial and a note.  The note says “use this poison to kill the king.”

“Woah, so you were going to kill the king?” Eltharion asks.

“No, no, I was going in to steal something.  But obviously, someone at the castle has been tipped off to me going in, and they were going to accuse me of assassination.  The strange thing is, I don’t know why anyone would want me to be accused of something like that,” Donald looked confused.

“Didn’t Adlai say something about assassination attempts…” Bink was thinking.

“Well, I know about the law.  If a very serious crime is attempted, like assassination or something like that, against the king, then the king will hold a personal audience with the accused in the Oubliette to find out their motives, or whatever.  But why would somebody want me brought before the king?” Donald asks.

“So they know where he is,” Bink reasons.  “Listen, the king isn’t even really the king right now.  It’s some evil wizard, inhabiting the body.”

“Oh man, this is way too complicated.  I should just skip town…” Donald says.

“No, I think we can use this to our advantage.  We need to corner the king, to try to get the wizard out of his body.  If you are accused of assassination, then we can easily corner him in the Oubliette,” Bink explains.

“So you want me to go through with the heist, get caught, and be used as bait for you guys to trap the fake king?” Donald asks.

“Exactly.  Any other questions?” Bink says.

“I… guess not.  You’re not gonna leave me hanging, right?” Donald says.

“Come on, we’re better than that.  You’re a good guy,” Eltharion says, handing back the vial and note.

“All right, well, I’ll be going in tomorrow night at around nine, so be ready about an hour or so after that to come get me…” Donald says.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll be fine,” Bink reassures him.  Donald bids them farewell and heads out.

“Looks like we found a way to get to the king after all,” Bink says.  The others nod.

“Should we teleport in, or should we just barge in the front doors?”  Eltharion asks.

“I think we can teleport into the jail, and then use the secret passage to get into the Oubliette.  That would be best,” Bink replies.

“Let’s go tell the others to be ready tomorrow night,” Eltharion says.

………

“That fool Donald McGraw will play right into our hands…” Vazina Deblora hissed.  Her thin dark elven features curling into an evil smile.  

“The Guildboss was so easy to… convince,” Gek’rek responded, his clothing tattered, as usual.

“Don’t get cocky, we need to prepare.  The king will be in the Oubliette a little after nine tomorrow.  That is when we kill him,” Meztil said, always cool and collected.

“Elf… the elf is back…” Zik’zin growled.  The small ivory horns a quiet contrast to his black skin.  His large, bat-like wings buffet slightly.

“We’ll deal with them after we kill the king.  We must make sure there is as little resistance as possible here in Brunswick.  Plus, we owe them for last time.  We never got to finish our battle, thanks to you…” Vazina’s eyes narrow as she looks to Meztil.

“I didn’t think that dwarves were stupid enough to push over giant walls of iron, or I obviously wouldn’t have put one up in the first place,” Meztil says in his defense.

“You should be grateful that we didn’t slaughter you for that mishap.  We could easily have been destroyed by that dragon, had the wall not fallen onto it,” Gek’rek added.

“Enough of this.  We must prepare our ambush.  We will wait until after the interrogation is over, and then strike.  The king will never know what hit him…” Vazina’s evil smile grew.

Are the dark elves in for a surprise when they find out the king isn’t really the king?  Would they care?  Who is working with who?  What forces are where?  What the heck is going on!?  I’ll try not to confuse you so much next time!


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## Droid101 (Oct 13, 2004)

The following night, everybody was a bit nervous.

“So Donald is getting captured right now, and we’re supposed to hope that Velkvir, while in the king’s body, decides to play along as the real king and face his fake-would-be-assassin in the Oubliette in exactly one hour therefore allowing us to swoop in and free the king’s body from Velkvir?” Damaré is exasperated.

“Exactly.  And we’re teleporting in one hour.  Get ready,” Bink responds.

Blaze, Damaré, Grog, Eltharion, Ogrim, Jezda and Bink ready themselves.  When they feel it is about the right time, Bink shinks everyone and _teleports_.  They arrive in the castle jailroom.  The guard behind the table is startled and stands up.  Bink blasts him with a _color spray _ and he falls unconscious.

Bink changes everyone back to normal, and they tie up the guard.  Eltharion triggers the secret passage leading from the jail to the Oubliette, and they proceed through quietly.  Wallace, Adlai, and Donald can be seen in the huge circular room below them.  Wallace has the strange glowing gem about his neck.  Donald is manacled.

_Now, attack him now!_  The Heroes hear in their heads.  The voice seems to be coming from the gem.  It is the king’s voice.  Wallace’s form doubles over.  He falls to one knee, gritting his teeth.  The party bursts into action.

“TEMPUS!” Blaze bellows, his armor straining and squealing as his muscles expand.  Grog’s eyes go bloodshot as he calls out in rage.  Ogrim and Eltharion calmly pull out their blades.  Ogrim’s Orc-Killer axe covered with notches.  Eltharion’s Sun and Moon lighting up almost the entire chamber.  Jezda’s greatsword gleams.  Damaré’s spiked chain dances about his form.  Bink’s Technicolor Dreamcoat scintillates.  They all descend the long staircase and surround the king’s paralyzed form.

“Wh, what are you doing?” Adlai asks in surprise.

“Stand back,” Jezda says, standing between Adlai and the rest of the group.

Weapons fly in from every angle.  Two battle axes, one katana, one scimitar, one sickle, one spiked chain, five magic missiles.

Again.

And again.

The king’s deific form standing up to the punishment in an uncanny way.  But after about 20 seconds, the king collapses, a pile of sliced flesh.

“Thank you, for doing the dirty work for us…” a voice from the top of the 100 foot tall circular chamber calls down at them.  A fireball erupts in their midst, everyone dodging and leaping out of the way as best they can.

Four familiar forms can be seen floating above them.  The four dark elves that had attacked them outside of the dwarven stronghold.  The female wearing heavy plate armor and wielding the snake flail.  The smoothly dressed one, the tatterd clothing one, and the one with the glowing eyes and large wings are also present.  The winged one and the female all fly straight down.

The winged one swoops down at Eltharion, slashing into his arm.  The dark-elf’s eyes flash bright red, and his longsword spills a chilling cold into Eltharion, along with the cut.

The female dives down at Ogrim, her three-headed snake flail biting out at him.  Ogrim blocks with his shield.

The black-cloaked elf casts another spell of unknown effect.  The disheveled one smiles wickedly, readying another fireball.

Bink ducks aside, casting _haste_ and then _fly_ on Blaze.  Blaze immediately flies straight up at the black-cloaked elf.  The elf smiles, hardly even attempting to dodge the axe, trusting his magic to protect him.

Bad move.

“In Tempus’ name!” Blaze calls out; his axe cleanly slicing through the elf’s torso, both pieces falling to the ground below.

The other dark elf flying next to Blaze almost lets out a shriek.  His eyes widen and he goes frantic.

Ogrim enters the dwarven defensive stance, and swings his axe out at the drow priestess.  He connects solidly three times, smashing through her fine adamantium armor.

Eltharion fares better than the last battle he had against this fiendish elf.  He places several expert cuts into the elf with his Moon-scimitar.  He uses the Sun-sickle to try and blind the elf, but to no avail.

Grog is foaming at the mouth, and he runs up the winding staircase, thinking to jump out onto the other elf floating above them.

Damaré grabs the amulet from off the king’s battered form and retreats into one of the jail cells to keep it safe.  Jezda pushes Adlai into the cell as well, and stands guard outside.

The dark elf flying near Blaze throws a _cone of cold _ down onto the Heroes, engulfing friend and foe alike.  The drow seem unaffected, but the Heroes feel their extremities go numb.  He then casts _invisibility_ and vanishes.

“Blast.  Eltharion!  Come use your blade, he was right there!” Blaze points, while flying down and laying another unearthly powerful axe hit to the fiendish dark elf.  Bink casts fly on Eltharion and himself.

Eltharion flies up, swinging his Moon blade back and forth to try to reveal the location of the invisible dark elf.  He succeeds.  The dark elf is revealed and Eltharion slashes into him hard, slicing him across the neck.

The priestess and Ogrim exchange blows, but Ogrim seems mostly unaffected.  The dark elves are starting to despair.

The winged elf growls and slashes into Blaze, drawing a deep wound in his stomach.  Blaze swings his axe sideways, chopping as hard as he can.  Off comes a horned-dark elf head.

The dark elf near Eltharion floats back and casts another spell, vanishing from view.

“He teleported, or else my blade would still see him,” Eltharion calls out to the others, as he flies down toward the female.

“You may kill me, but the dark elves will destroy each and every one of you,” she spits down at Ogrim, who replies with a chop to the leg.  Eltharion pierces her back with his scimitar, twisting it for good measure, and her form falls to the ground, lifeless.

Bink’s vision goes into the magical spectrum and he picks out all the items to save.

They bring Adlai out and explain.

“Adlai, the king is in this gem,” Damaré says, much to everyone’s surprise.

“He’s what?” Eltharion asks, wiping off his blades.

_Yes it’s true. _   The king’s voice emanates to everybody’s mind.  _Somehow, when Velkvir cast that magic jar spell, some strange coincidence happened.  Magic that isn’t supposed to be used against a deity was, and the power forced me into this gem._

“So, how do we get you out?” Bink asks.

_I have no idea.  And I have no idea who would, either.  _  The gem responds.

“I’ll hold onto it until we find out,” Damaré tries to slide in.

“Fine, I have no problem with that,” Bink says.

“My God, and I thought you all just assassinated the king,” Adlai says, still a little shocked.  “So, until we find out how to free the king, that leaves Felix and I as the castle’s only real protection.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be here,” Eltharion says.

Donald emerges from one of the other cells.

“I watched from in there.  You guys sure are good allies to have,” Donald says.  Bink snaps his fingers and the manacles fall off.  “Thanks.  Anyway, I’m gonna get going.  We need to stay in touch, y’hear?”

The Heroes all go upstairs, re-settling into their rooms in the castle.

Bink stays in and _identifies_ all the magic items they had gotten from Velkvir’s lair as well as the new ones.  Everyone else goes out for a drink.  They need it.

“It’s been a long week…” Eltharion says, raising his mug.  Everyone toasts and drinks heartily.

………

The next day, Adlai and Felix go to the center of town and give a State of the State address.  Explaining that the king has gone “ill” and about how things are growing more and more dangerous.  A fairly large crowd shows up.

“Since we’re taking a break, I’m going to head off and try to meet up with my brother,” Blaze says, bidding everyone goodbye, for now.

“I also have things to attend to.  Jezda and I are going to go to the giant’s stronghold on foot.  We’re not abandoning Trek and The Necromancer.” Damaré says; Jezda and him head out.

………

After about 18 days of reading and resting, a messenger arrives from the kingdom of Baron.

“Bad news from Baron.  The dwarven stronghold has been overrun.  Most of the dwarves were able to escape, but the stronghold new belongs to the dark elves.  The king of the dwarves wishes to have you, Ogrim, return to Baron to speak with him and stand with your dwarven brothers,” the messenger says.

“Then I go,” Ogrim says bluntly, going to get his belongings that very minute.  The rest of the Heroes bid him farewell.

………

That night, at the tavern, Eltharion, Bink and Grog, the only Heroes left in Brunswick, gather for a drink.

“So Velkvir, Salménmalón, and Iuz all live together.  That’s kinda creepy,” Eltharion says, commenting on their past activities.

“Did you just say ‘Iuz’?” the barkeep asks, overhearing them.

“Yeah, why?” Eltharion responds.

“A couple weeks ago I got a weird bulk order.  Kept the note, y’know, cause it was kinda weird.  Here,” he hands the note to Eltharion, who reads it.

_Order:
18 casks Tralig Ale
4 bottles Elven wine
4 casks Dwarven brew
2 cases, 30 mugs each
Re: celebration following Iuz’s sack of Tovag Baragu and subsequent ascention_

“Wonderful.  More ascention.  Tell Adlai we’ll be out for a couple of days to stop this one…” Eltharion muses.

“Wait, I have that note from Iuz to…” Bink pulls the note out of his pack.  “Korbadur.  With a name, I think I can get Adlai to scry him.  Then we could teleport there and, you know, do something about him.  Maybe stop his force from reinforcing Iuz.”

“Uh oh, you sound serious,” Eltharion rolls his eyes.

“Come on, I’ve been sitting around here for too long.  Need to do something!” Grog pipes in, tugging on Bink’s rainbow robe.

The three Heroes look at each other, smiling.

A mission.

Finally.

Are the drow going to take over Brunswick next?  Will the Heroes be too split up to help?  Where is Tovag Baragu?  Should I really have run “Die Vecna Die” in my 3.0 campaign?  Get all these questions answered, and more, next update!


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## Droid101 (Oct 13, 2004)

The characters just reached level 16 or so.  They stay around this level for a while, as you'll see.  :: snicker ::

Anyway, go back the the first post and download/view the attachment I just put up.

It's a rough sketch of the continent of Aldor-Valencia.  Gives you an idea of where they were going and where they've been.

Any questions/comments, feel free to speak up!


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## the Jester (Oct 14, 2004)

Droid101, I just wanted to thank you for the frequent updates!   

Keep up the good work!


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## Droid101 (Oct 14, 2004)

the Jester said:
			
		

> Droid101, I just wanted to thank you for the frequent updates!
> 
> Keep up the good work!



No no, thank _you_ for being my only noticable dedicated reader.

More to come, be sure of that!


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## Droid101 (Oct 14, 2004)

The scrying mirror swirled and an image appeared.  Adlai looked on with Bink over his shoulder.  A large group of seemingly random humanoids appeared, marching over some barren looking ground.

Bink could see clearly that Korbadur, the one they had scryed, was an ogre-mage; his small ivory horns prominent on his head.  The rest of his band of near 100 was comprised of ogres, orcs, humans, hobgoblins, and the like.  A fairly mish-mashed group.

Bink studied the area around the marching soldiers carefully, so that he could teleport Eltharion, Grog and himself there when they were ready.

“Hm, I have a crazy idea…” Bink says, Adlai looking on.

“And what is that?” Adlai asked.

“The other guys won’t be ready until tomorrow.  I think I’ll go harass them right now,” Bink has a gleam in his eye that can only be described as, well, insane.

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Adlai is only slightly concerned.

“Yes,” Bink casts _fly_, _haste_ and _improved invisibility _ on himself.  He then casts _teleport_ and arrives well behind the marching force.  He takes to the air and flies over the top of the group.

The area around them looks like a great empty basin; water used to be here, but it’s been so long that it’s just a salty-flatland.

He flew near a couple of humans that were walking.  They had strange symbols on their armor—grinning human skulls.  Bink made a note of that and listened to their conversation.

“How difficult will it be to break in, anyway?” a cloaked half-elf asks.

“Not sure.  They already have a force there, so hopefully some of the cultists should be cleared out,” a larger human responds.

“I hope I don’t have to get my hands too dirty…” the half-elf sneers.

Bink leaves the conversation at that.

He flew over the leader of the group, Korbadur the ogre-mage.  He got ready, and let loose.  A _cone of cold _ followed by a _fireball_.  Many ogres dove out of the way.  Several forms fell to the powerful blasts.

“Right there!” Korbadur called out, pointing about where Bink was floating.  One of the humans cast a spell, and Bink appeared.

“Uh oh,” Bink didn’t waste time, and _teleported_ back home immediately.  Adlai was watching through the scrying mirror, still.

“Nice shots,” Adlai says approvingly.

“Yeah.  Well, I think we’re going to wait a bit before going after them.  They seem to be entering some kind of conflict, so hopefully that will thin their numbers, and we can follow in and mop up,” Bink says.

“Sounds like a good plan,” Adlai says, bidding him goodbye.  “Try not to be gone too long, if the dark elves are really looking to expand from the dwarven stronghold, then we might be a target here in Brunswick.  Considering what those dark elves said that were trying to kill the king.”

“We’ll make it quick,” and Bink is off.  He lets Eltharion and Grog know what happened, and they prepare to leave in a couple of days.

Bink looks up some information on ogre-mages from the castle library.

“Eltharion, make a couple of cold resistance scrolls, will you?” Bink asks.

“Okay,” Eltharion goes to work.  Grog relaxes for a couple of days while Bink and Eltharion prepare.

They gather in the meeting room of the castle.

Bink casts _teleport_; Eltharion and Grog are swept through the plane to the salt flats.  Eltharion immediately goes to work, easily finding the large group’s tracks, and following them.

They don’t travel too fast, believing that Iuz’s forces are meeting resistance anyway.

“So you really think they’ll be almost destroyed when we get there?” Eltharion asks.

“Well, I heard them talking about having to fight cultists or something,” Bink replies.

“Hope we don’t run into too much trouble,” Eltharion says.

They follow the tracks for about a day.  That evening, they see what looks like a bunch of standing stones.  They approach, and see that it is many arches in a circular pattern.  The first circle is wide, almost a mile in diameter.  Then each circle of standing stones gets progressively smaller, until they are standing in a circle of eight.  Signs of combat are all around.  Littered weapons, burn marks, dried blood.

“Looks like we missed the party,” Bink says.  Two of the standing stone arches are are shimmering inside, like a portal.

“Ready?” Eltharion asks Bink and Grog.

“Let’s go,” Grog squeezes the handle of his new katana tightly.

How will Tovag Baragu treat the Heroes?  Can three of them hope to defeat Iuz?  This and more, next time.


----------



## sandtiger (Oct 15, 2004)

As you can tell, I hardly ever say anything in the story hours.  Don't have much to say.   This is one of the two story hours I regularly follow.  I am really enjoying the pace and the confusion (I guess on my part not on the stories or characters).  I cannot tell who is an npc and real character.  I have never played in or seen a game which switches in and out characters so easily (or well).  

I found the visit to the future/past wild and inventive.  

Sigh, obviously I don't have much to say, except thank you for giving me something to look forward to and enjoy.

Sandtiger


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 15, 2004)

The circle was about 90 feet across, in total.  The arches themselves were towering, 40 foot tall constructions.  Bink pokes around at a couple of the bodies that lay around.  They all bear a skeletal hand holding an eye tattoo on their wrists.

“Okay, so Iuz’s guys have a grinning skull, and these other cultists have a hand and eye,” Bink says.

“Which portal should we go through?” Grog asks, looking at the three glowing archways.

“This one,” Eltharion was already walking up to one, poking a sword through that he picked off a nearby corpse.  He pulled it out and it looked fine.  “Looks good to me.”

Eltharion stepped through.  Grog and Bink quickly followed, not wanting to leave their friend alone.  

They appeared in another stone circle, much like the one they had just come from.  The archways looked exactly the same and were positioned in exactly the same way, except outside the circle was a lush looking rainforest, albeit the foliage is blue instead of green.  In the center of the circle was a 30 foot high crenellated stone tower.  Blood and debris is all around, marking recent battle.  Several hide tents could be seen out in the forest.

“You there!  Put your hands up!” a voice calls from atop the tower.  A man can be seen, pointing a crossbow at them.

“How about… no?” Eltharion says, as he, Bink and Grog charge at the tower.

The man fires, and the bolt sails harmlessly wide.  Grog starts hacking into the thick doorway.  Eltharion climbs up the walls thanks to his magical sandals, and Bink casts _spider climb _ to follow.  The man retreats back and goes down into the tower via a locked hatch.

“This door is magic,” Grog says, a little tired from his hacking.  Bink and Eltharion climb back down to him.

“You there!  You are against Vecna!” a voice calls from the forest.

“Yes.  His man just fired upon us.  He is no friend of ours!” Eltharion calls back.  A group of four centaurs steps out of several of the tents.  One steps forward and introduces himself.

“I am Balophan.  My kin and I live in the forest here.  We have been fending off those evil Vecna cultists for ages,” Balophan says.

“You want to help us get the guards in this tower, you know, to help your struggle?” Eltharion asks.

“We will help you.  You three can climb the wall, I see.  If you try to break in from the top, my men and I will try to break in from the bottom at the same time.  They won’t stand a chance,” Balophan says.

“I like him,” Grog says to Bink, tugging on his rainbow robe.

“Let’s do it,” Bink gives Grog a _spider climb _ as well, and all they climb up to the top of the tower.  Bink lets his vision shift into the magical spectrum and views the main door at the bottom.  “Wizard lock.”  Bink casts _knock_ and climbs to the top.

“All right, on my mark, start breaking the door…. Now!” Eltharion yells; he and Grog start pounding the hatch.  The centaurs below do the same to their large door.

Through luck or coincidence, both doors burst open at about the same time.  A fireball explodes around the Heroes, and they all charge in, fending off the blast.  Grog runs down the stairs at the cloaked caster.  Eltharion runs down the wall at another spellcaster whose spell failed.  The centaurs charge the other six weapon-wielding cultists.

Grog’s muscles bulge and his eyes go bloodshot.  He yells out in rage and slashes at the spellcaster.  Two expert cuts and the man falls, clutching his neck.  Eltharion dispatches the other spellcaster equally quickly, albeit with more slashes; six in all.  The second man falls, cuts and gouges all over his body.

Bink positions himself and launches a _lightning bolt _ at a few of the warrior-cultists, taking three of them down.  The centaurs quickly finish off the rest, with Balophan scoring the final killing blow with his shortsword.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad,” Eltharion sheathes his blades and dusts his hands.

“So do you know why these cultists are here?” Bink asks Balophan.

“The great being Iuz has come to destroy Vecna.  Many of his troops have passed through here.  We have been trying to drive Vecna away from this place for a long time, so anyone helping do that can’t be bad,” Balophan explains.

“Hm… well, we’re no friends of Iuz or Vecna.  We’re just here to stop evil from becoming more powerful,” Eltharion thinks to himself if that aptly characterizes their motivations.

“If you are saying that you will drive Vecna and his evil cult out of this place, then I shall go with you and help you do so,” Balophan says, bringing a bit of whispering from the other centaurs.

“We would welcome your help.  I am Bink, this is Eltharion, and this is Grog.  We are pleased to have you with us,” Bink says.  Balophan leads them out to the only other portal in this reality.

“This gate and the one you came through are the only ones here,” Balophan points to another archway in the circle.  The Heroes shrug and step through.

This circle is severly warped.  It’s as if the pillars were pulled away like taffy, and then reset, strangely twisted.  The stone ground is bulging and uneven in places.  Racing red clouds dot the sky, flashes of energy crackling in the distance.  It is completely dark outside of the circle; even Eltharion’s Sun-sickle provides no light beyond the inner circle of stones.  Several dead bodies lay in different positions.  Before they can investigate three forms charge at them.

The stink of decay washes over them as the rotting ghoulish humanoids rush at them.  Razor sharp bone claws slash into Eltharion and Grog, both gritting their teeth at the pain.

Grog and Eltharion counterattack.  Grog cuts apart the ghoul in three quick katana strikes; all the pieces falling unceremoniously to the ground.  Eltharion’s Moon-scimitar makes short work of the second one.  Balophan tears into the last one with his longsword and shortsword.  All three ghouls fall dead.

“Looks like a big fight happened here…” Bink inspects the bodies.  Eight Vecna cultists, three large ogres bearing Iuz symbols, and three centaurs lay dead.  The party quickly moves to the only other portal, stepping through.

This stone circle looks normal.  It seems to be in the center of a hilly meadow.  A warm sun and green grass surrounds them.  Two small buildings stand in the center of the circle, one looks like an inn and the other a stable.  The doors of the stable have been ripped off the hinges and lay on the ground.  The party doesn’t investigate.  They see three portals other than the one they came through, and go into the closest one.

Another stone circle, same as the last.  This one is surrounded by a pink ocean, small islands off in the distance.  In the center of this circle are several tents.  A particularly ugly ogre is cooking over an open fire, and about 15 other ogres and half-ogres are sitting around the tents.  A few of them hop up immediately and eye the Heroes.

“What you doin here?” the ugly ogre asks threateningly.

Bink surveys the rest of the stone archways and sees no other portals.

“We are the most powerful Heroes you will ever meet.  *You will never again come through this portal, and you will spend the rest of your life here in this vast ocean.* If I so much as see a hair on your ugly head poke through this portal I will be forced to rip your head off your body and use your skull to store any other ogre remains I ever come across. *Do I make myself perfectly clear!?*” Bink’s voice grew gradually louder (thanks to some cantrips) and he seemed to grow larger and menacing lights danced around him (again, thanks to the cantrips).

“N, n… no, of c.. course not.  We live here.  W, we no leave,” the terrified ogre mumbles, the other 15 or so ogres and half-ogres don’t advance.  Bink and the Heroes retreat into the portal they came from, back to the circle with the two buildings and four portals.  They go into the next closest one.

And they are weightless.

All four of them start floating out into space.  It’s pitch black, except for the flickering of the portal they came through, and the flickering of another two portals off in the distance.  Eltharion solves that issue by brining for the _daylight_ of his Sun-sickle.

The eight archways are in about the same position, but there is no ground.  Only what looks like a rope bridge that has been torn asunder, floating a little randomly here and there.  They also see a ghoul floating nearby, and an ogre.

“Help me!” the ogre calls out.

Eltharion quickly grabs onto the robe bridge remanants that are connected to the portal they came through.  Grog grabs Eltharion, Bink grabs Grog, and Balophan grabs Bink.  Bink casts _fly_ on everyone and they glide easily to the other portal, ignoring the ogre’s plea for help.

As they fly through, they are in another circle of stones, same as earlier, however this time they are all covered in ice and snow.  The cold is intense, and a shadow is cast over them from above.

A huge (40 feet tall!) block of ice is dropped on them from above.  All of the Heroes dive back into the portal they came from.  Grog tries to reach back in, but the ice cube blocks the way.  They float through the darkness to the other portal.

Little distinguishes this particular circle from its many similar manifestations.  As a matter of fact, it looks almost identical to the first circle, the one they started at, complete with more circles of stones outside the inner one, and salty flatlands.

However, something does distinguish it; the presence of many small buildings outside of the circle.  They seem like simple houses.  Probably near fifty in all.  Most of them are burned or otherwise torn down.  Similar signs of combat are present in the inner circle, but no bodies remain.

There is one portal other than the one they came through.  The Heroes take no time to investigate; they go straight for the portal.

Once they step through, it’s clear that they are somewhere different.  No more circles of stone archways.  They are in a 20 foot wide underground passage.  Alcoves are set into both sides of the passage with small statuettes.

“The palace of Vecna… I have heard of this place… it is called ‘Adytum,’ I think,” Balophan says ominously.

“We made it?  That’s it?  That’s the big defense of this place?” Eltharion scoffs.

“Well, Iuz’s troops probably softened it up a little bit…” Bink starts, but Eltharion crosses his arms.

The four of them ready their weapons and start down the passage.

How will Vecna’s inner sanctum be?  Can they fight two demi-Gods?  Will they even want to?  Find out this and more, next update.


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 15, 2004)

I knew I'd get a response when I said to Jester "You're my only noticable reader."  Heh.


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> As you can tell, I hardly ever say anything in the story hours.



Thanks for taking time to comment here.   


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> Don't have much to say.



I'll be the judge of that.


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> This is one of the two story hours I regularly follow.



Wow, I made someone's top two.  That is truly an honor.  Thanks for reading!   


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> I am really enjoying the pace and the confusion (I guess on my part not on the stories or characters).



Hm.  If you are confused about anything, go ahead and ask.  I love answering questions.


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> I cannot tell who is an npc and real character.  I have never played in or seen a game which switches in and out characters so easily (or well).



Okay, I love answering all questions but this one.  I'll announce who all are NPCs and PCs when I get closer to the end of the campaign.

And I'm glad you like my transitions.  I like to make character intros and outros seem natural.  I felt I did a pretty good job at that.


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> I found the visit to the future/past wild and inventive.



One of my favorite parts of the campaign too.  


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> Sigh, obviously I don't have much to say, except thank you for giving me something to look forward to and enjoy.
> 
> Sandtiger



I disagree, seems like you had a lot of comments, and it also seems like you have other questions (see "confusion" above) that you haven't asked.

Thanks for the comments and praise.  Does me good.  Feel free to ask anything else, I'm always open.


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 15, 2004)

*Interlude the Second…*

Ragnar, Kain, Drax, Joseph and Faelean sat in the meeting hall of castle Brunsick, deciding what their next course of action should be.

“I think we deserve a break…” Faelean, the frail grey elf spoke up first.

“We did just get cloned by the man who is supposed to be the king’s royal wizard, and then forced to fight against ourselves,” Kain, the hardened wood-elf gladiator responded.

“For all we know, we could be the clones…” Joseph, the human wyrmslayer and paladin of Torm looked uneasy.

“We aren’t clones.  Now listen up, we’re going to go our separate ways for a couple of months, and tend to whatever we need to tend to.  I’m headed out to the Adventurer’s Guildhall to meet up with Frole Ganthus, a supposed weapon master.  He is going to train me,” Ragnar, the half-human, half-dwarf (mul) said, his bare chest broad and muscular.

“I’ll be headed back to the church of Mystra… I need to report and take a load off,” Faelean said haughtily.

“I’ll go with him,” Drax, the lizardman gladiator hissed.  “Don’t want him getting in any trouble all by himself.”

“I’ll go too.  Nothing better to do,” Kain said, a little dejected.

“I’m headed down to the Tormyr forest.  I heard there is a great green dragon named Drelhornsdrathdin that has become active.  I will slay him, single-handedly,” Joseph says proudly.

“All right, looks like we’re all set.  I’ll be leaving tomorrow, so we’ll meet back here in Brunswick in two months.  Then we can get set to deal with these ‘Dark Tides’ Adlai has been surmising,” Ragnar says, and bids his friends goodbye.


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 19, 2004)

Thus ends Part 2: Intro to the Dark Tides

And Part 3 begins: The Dark Tides Realized

Eltharion, Grog, Bink, and Balophan the centaur creep slowly down the hallway.  Fresh air is flowing in from the portal behind them.

They get to the end of the hallway and it opens up into a large room.  Green-yellow light shines from guttering lanterns hung above the chamber.  Several onyx altars are placed around the hall, with onyx statues of a gaunt skeleton missing its right hand and left eye.  Several more of these statues lay on the ground, broken.  Four ghoulish creatures can be seen feasting on a corpse in the corner.  Bink wastes no time with them.

Just as Bink throws a _fireball_ at them, incinerating them completely, the four onyx statues come to life.  They charge the party, but the Heroes are able to dodge their slow and deliberate attacks.

Eltharion, Grog and Balophan slam their weapons into the statues.  Bink pelts them with magic missiles.  The Heroes make short work of them.  They are surrounded by a pile of rock.

“That was easy… too easy,” Eltharion says.

“Well, obviously Iuz’s troops have already broken in here.  We shouldn’t see that much resistance,” Bink responds.

The room has five doors.  Four of them seem like regular wooden doors, but one is a large stone door with intricate carvings.  Grog opens it without thought.

Behind it is a stone wall.

“A door that leads to a wall?  What gives?” Eltharion asks.

“I don’t know…” Grog knocks on the stone wall, then closes the door.

“Obviously, this is where we need to go, we just need to find out how to go there,” Bink says, as he moves to another one of the doors.  “Let’s go this way.”

Grog nods and triest to open the door Bink points to.  It is locked.  Bink casts _knock_ and Grog proceeds.  Another large chamber lies beyond, with shattered frames, scorched easels, and ashen parchment litter the room.  Several ghoul bodies are piled in a corner.  A half-ogre and six ogres stand immediately as the Heroes enter.  Bink holds out his hands.

“You don’t want to fight us, and we don’t want to fight you.  Do not unsheathe your weapons,” Bink says calmly and coolly.  The ogres look at each other and don’t move.  The half-ogre approaches.

“You not Vekka cult?” the half-ogre stutters.

“No, we’re against them,” Bink replies.

“You Iuz helpers?  Good, we need helpers.  We runnin’ out of food here,” the half-ogre explains.

“How long have you been holed up here?” Bink asks.

“Just couple of days.  But we only go out to find food.  Not safe in this place,” the half-ogre says.

“What’s your name?” Bink asks.

“Me Druelnarg.  Me strong!” he beats his chest.

“Yes, yes you are.  Now, do you know where Iuz went?  Or where Vecna is?” Bink asks.

“Yes!  Me brudder Festnarg went with Iuz into main room.  Door with carving on it.  You see it?” Druelnarg points to the door in the other room the Heroes just came from.

“Yes, that door.  How do you get in it?” Bink asks.

“You gotta have Vekka relic.  Vekka relics got heavy magic,” Druelnarg says.

“And they are in this temple?” Bink asks.

“Yea, Vekka relics are ‘round here somewhere.  Me been lookin’ for one so I can find me brudder,” Druelnarg says.

”Okay, how about this: you come with us and we’ll get a relic and get into there, okay?” Bink rolls his eyes at the prospect.

“Okay.  You six, stay here until I gets back!” Druelnarg tells the larger ogres what to do, and they sit back down.  The Heroes and Druelnarg go across the room and exit a door on the other side.

“Be careful, trolls here, I talk,” Druelnarg says.  The Heroes shrug as he opens the door.

The room smells terrible.  All the pedestals and statues that were once standing are long destroyed.  Rock, sand, and other debris covers the floor.  Four trolls are huddled up, and they all jump up as the door opens.

“They with me.  Sit,” Druelnarg says to the trolls, who slowly sit back down.  Druelnarg leads them into the next room, which is more of a hallway.

“Wait, my sword says there’s a trap…” Grog says, pointing to the ground before them.

“Then let’s avoid it,” Bink casts _spider climb_ on everyone, and they all walk along the wall, then back to the ground after they pass the trap.  The hallway turns and comes to a dead end.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Bink asks Druelnarg.

“No, I no know this part,” Druelnarg responds.

“Great…” Bink looks around.  Eltharion searches as well.

“Hey, I think there’s a secret…” Eltharion stops as he presses on the wall, and it slides away, revealing a room.

The room is covered in vibrant mosaic tiles; the floor, walls, and ceiling.  In the center there is a slim pedestal.  On the pedestal is a lamp-shaped container.  Inside is a blackened finger.

“Dat’s one!” Druelnarg says, stepping forward.  Grog graps his shoulder.

“The room is trapped,” Grog says, hearing the voice of his blade in his head.

“Yeah… electricity,” Bink says, noticing archs of electricity leap from the ceiling to the floor intermittently.  There is a door on the other side of the room, as well.

“Well, let’s try something,” Eltharion gets out his rope and ties his grappling hook to it.  He throws it at the reliquary a few times, trying to latch onto it.  On his third throw, one of the glass panes breaks.  “Damn, I can’t get it.”

Grog grabs the hook and throws it, getting a lucky it and latching onto the corner.  The reliquary falls to the ground, and Grog drags it back to them.  Bink reaches in and pulls out the blackened finger.

“This is a relic?” Bink looks at Druelnarg, who is already grabbing for it.

“Yes, give, so I can find me brudder!” Druelnarg says.  Grog steps in between them.

“You’ll get it when we are going to go through that door.  First, you need to stay with us,” Bink says.  “We’re going to search some more.”

“My sword says a trap is on the other door over there as well,” Grog says, pointing to the door that is in the electrified chamber.

“Here…” Bink casts _protection from electricity _ on everyone.  “You run through and open the door.  Then, we’ll follow.”

Grog shrugs his shoulders, and runs.  He can feel the electricity course through him, though takes no damage due to the spell.  He pulls open the door and hears a loud shriek, which dies out in about two seconds.  He is through and in another hallway.

“Come on, it’s safe over here,” Grog says.  The rest of them run through as fast as they can.

Most of the doorways in this hallway are intricately carved, including the one they found the blackened finger in.

“Be careful, each of these doors has a trap on them,” Grog says.  “Except for those… six.”

Grog points out six plain doors, all un-trapped.  Eight doors are ornately carved, and have traps.

“Let’s check the rooms without traps, shall we?” Bink says.  Two are empty save for desks.  Two have large metal cabinets in them, which the Heroes procure several items.  Three small bones, two necrotic looking potions, two shriveled up patches of skin, four clay pills, and a large human sized leather case with a hose and a spine coming out of it.

“Wonder what this thing is for… wanna climb inside?” Eltharion looks at Grog, who shakes his head quickly.

Another door leads to what looks like a bunk-area.  The Heroes don’t proceed.  The final untrapped door opens to a room with several Vecna cultists talking in a corner.  A quick skirmish finishes them off without much of a disturbance.  After opening another door in this room, they are back to the main chamber they started in.

“Good, okay, now we know where we are.  Let’s start dealing with those traps,” Bink and the others go back to the hallway with the trapped doorways.  Bink uses his _wand of summon monster _ and summons a dog, who pushes open the first door.

One of the carved images on the doorway’s mouth opens, and thousands upon thousands of beetles pour out.  They completely cover the celestial golden retriever, chewing him down to the bone.  The dog vanishes.  The room is much the same as the one with the blackened finger.  Mosaic walls, lamp-like reliquary, and electrified.  Grog throws the hook in, breaking one of the glass faces of the lamp.  Bink stops him.

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Bink casts mage hand and retrieves the dried patch of scalp from the reliquary.  “Are all these relics body parts?  That’s disgusting…”

They move on to the next door, standing around the corner, Bink summons another dog, who pushes the door.  Just as he pushes it, a trap door opens up underneath him and he falls.  The door itself then morphs into a stone statue of a skeletal figure missing its right hand and left eye, and it charges down the hall toward the Heroes.  Druelnarg, Grog, Eltharion and Balophan make short work of it, and Bink retrieves another blackened finger, this one a little longer than the last.

The next door has runes on it, which Bink reads.

_Neither fowl nor fish;
Not bone nor flesh;
And yet possesses,
Thumb and four fingers._

“Easy, that’s a glove,” Eltharion says without hesitation, and the door slides open.

“How did you… nevermind,” Bink shakes his head and retrieves yet another blackened finger, this one short, but has a long, razor-like nail.

Another dog is summoned to press on the next door.  A vent opens above the dog, who is drenched by acid; melting away quickly.  The door pushes open and Bink retrieves a shrunken orb, most likely an eye.

“Poor dog, I’m starting to feel bad,” Eltharion quips.  They move on.

The next door is pressed, and a golden light shines down on the dog.  His skin seems to shrivel up and he becomes emaciated.  He vanishes.  Bink retrieves a small, blackened tooth.

The next door is pressed, and the dog is surrounded by icy mist, pouring from the sculpture on the door.  His body freezes and splinters, cracking, and then vanishes.  Bink retrieves two blackened fangs.

The next door is pressed, and a ball of fire explodes around the dog, who is left charred and dead.  Bink retrieves a shriveled foot.  There is another doorway on the other side of the relic chamber, as well.

“We have enough!  Let me find my brudder!” Druelnarg complains, but Bink silences him with a steely gaze.

“Grog, you and I will fly through here and see what’s on the other side,” Bink casts another _protection from electricity _ and _fly_ on both of them, who fly through quickly.  On the other side of the door is a small hallway, and two more ornately carved doorways.

A dog is summoned and walks to the first door.  He falls into a pit trap.  Another dog is summoned on the other side of the pit and pushes the door.  The dog vanishes instantly.  Bink retrieves a thick roll of leathery parchment from the reliquary.

“This isn’t skin… is it?  Yech…” Bink says to himself, putting it into his bag.

This last door is slightly ajar, and Bink pushes it the rest of the way open.  The room is the same as the other reliquaries, except that the lamp-holder is empty, and the walls have no electrical charge.  There is another door on the other side of this room.  Bink cautiously goes in, not feeling the electrical pulse.

Bink summons one last dog to open this door, and a small needle pricks the dog, who doubles over with convulsions.  Bink retrieves a mummified head from the final reliquary.

“Man, that’s it, I’m done.  We’re leaving, no more body parts,” Bink puts it away, and they fly back to the rest of the group.

“We need to hole up and find a place to rest… I’m running low on spells,” Bink says.

“Agreed, we’re all pretty weak, we’ve been through a lot today,” Eltharion says.

“How about that bunk area?  That’d probably be a good spot,” Balophan offers.  They head over to that door.  Inside is a hallway with doorways leading to small bed-chambers.  The Heroes barricade the door with beds and settle down for a while.

Will the Heroes get to Iuz or Vecna in time?  In time for what?  Who are they even trying to stop now?  Become less confused, next time!


----------



## Sandain (Oct 20, 2004)

Please Sir, may I have some more?

How did the Die Vecna Die conversion to 3e go?


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 20, 2004)

Sandain said:
			
		

> Please Sir, may I have some more?
> 
> How did the Die Vecna Die conversion to 3e go?



Surely.

And the conversion was more than easy.  I read through the entire module thoroughly, then I used mostly the same levels that were listed, and converted stuff on the fly.  Wasn't too difficult.


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 21, 2004)

The Heroes awake after eight hours of rest, switching up guard duty between Grog, Eltharion, and Balophan (they let the half-ogre Druelnarg sleep soundly, and snore loudly).

“Okay, we need to get back to the main room and get through that doorway,” Bink says, as they remove the barricade from the exit.  The Heroes move out to the access room that leads back to the main room, and arrive.  Bink hands everyone a relic, opens the ornately carved door in the main room.

Plates of mirror-bright metal tile the walls, floor, and ceiling.  All of them are intricately engraved.  A crystal eye shaped lantern hangs and illuminates the room slightly.  The floor is littered with bodies; ogres, humans, orcs, ghouls, Vecna cultists, and a few centaurs.  The stench is terrible.

“Ah, geez, that’s awful…” Eltharion looks around in disgust.  Two passages lead off to the left and right, and a large, ornate door is straight ahead.  He heads off to the right, the rest of the party following behind.  As they turn the corner, there is another silvery door.  However, standing in front of the door is a large, eight foot tall hand, made of iron.  It instantly animates and begins to shuffle towards Eltharion.  The Heroes fall back into the bigger room.

“Back up!  Surround it!” Eltharion calls out, as Grog makes his way around the thing.  Balophan does the same.  Druelnarg cowers back out of the way, fearing the awkwardly moving hand.

Bink casts _haste_ and _lightning bolt_.  The bolt seems to be absorbed by the iron hand, but it starts to move much more slowly after it is hit.  Bink shrugs.

Grog lets out a roar and charges in from behind the hand.  His eyes go bloodshot and the spittle flies.  His katana, Murasamé, slashes into the metal, denting it somewhat.  Eltharion comes in from the other side.  He pulls out his Moon-scimitar and his sylvan scimitar, and cuts into the hand a couple of times.  Balophan gallops in with his longsword/shortsword combination, landing a couple of good hits.

The hand, moving very slowly, rears back, balancing on its thumb and pinky, and strikes out with its middle finger.  Although slowed, the blow is still hard, and it knocks the wind out of Eltharion.

Bink casts another _lightning bolt_, hoping to slow the creature for longer.  He then charges in with his brilliant energy falchion, and slashes hard.  It passes right through the animate iron hand.

“Damn energy blade…” Bink curses.

Druelnarg gets up some confidence, and charges the hand, cutting into it with his greatsword.  It glances off to no effect.

Eltharion, Grog and Balophan cut into the hand again, denting it all around.  Bink goes around, casting _haste_ on everybody, making sure to destroy the thing as quickly as possible.

The hand gets another couple of hits in, striking both Grog and Balophan.  The final blow comes from Grog, who cuts completely through the pinky after a volley of hits, and the hand smashes into the metallic ground.  Druelnarg runs off by himself, toward the door the hand was guarding.

“Must get da treasure, so I can find me brudder,” he mumbles as he shuffles off.  Bink follows.  The others examine the iron hand.

As Bink rounds the corner, Druelnarg is pushing open the silvery door.  Just as he does so, his skin looks like it is melting off, transforming into a greenish ooze.  Druelnarg spins around to Bink, his skin melting, and a look of horror in his eyes.

“You… you ugly monster!” Druelnarg yells, charging at Bink.  Bink flies up to the ceiling to avoid the green-slime-dripping Druelnarg, slightly confused.

“Me, a monster?  Look at you,” Bink replies, still puzzled.

Druelnarg runs away from Bink, screaming.  He slams the silvery door behind him as he runs through.

“Dammit,” Bink flies back to the ground, and pushes open the silver door again.  Inside, the scene is even worse.  A bubbly pile of green ooze across the room in front of yet another door is draining into the floor, which has tons of small openings, like a grate.

“I guess he got his,” Bink flies quickly through the room, and into the partially-open door across the way.  Another relic chamber; mosaic tiles, lamp-like reliquary, mummified hand.  On the opposite wall, however, there is a huge sculpture of seemingly hundreds of humanoids carved directly into the wall.

Bink flies directly at the reliquary and removes the hand.  All the stone heads on the wall turn toward him and gibber… “Join us!”  Bink ignores them and flies back out to the main passageway.

“Find anything?” Grog’s question is answered as soon as Bink holds up the mummified hand.

“More body parts, yuck,” Eltharion kicks around a couple of the cultist bodies littering the room.  They all go to the left to investigate.

The room around the corner on this side has burned and blasted tapestries, smashed sculptures, and scorched stone.  The silvery door on this side has been half-melted away, and lays off its hinges.  In the corner is a huge iron orb, most likely an eye.  However, half of it is melted and corroded away, and it sits motionless.

“Somebody had his way with this place…” Eltharion mutters as they move on.

Through the silvery door is gears, springs, and shiny metallic discs with razor edges.  Many of the discs are jammed halfway in some of the hundres of slits in the walls.  Many others lie crumpled and melted upon the stony floor.  A five foot wide path is cleared through the jumble of machinery to the other side, and what was once a large obsidian door, that is now no more than a pile of rocky chunks.

Through this doorway is another relic chamber, but this one has been ransacked.  Burnt and shattered tiles are everywhere.  The reliquary is broken and on the ground, missing its body-part.  The sculptures on the wall are all melted and drooping.  A fallen cultist body is on the floor, and above him, written in blood on the wall, it says: _Iuz was here_.

“Yes, yes he was…” Eltharion responds, as if somebody had read the message.  “Maybe we should let Iuz and Vecna deal with eachother…”

“Oh, what, are you afraid of a little demi-God action now?” Bink replies, chuckling slightly.  They head back to the main room and look at the final door.

“Not me,” Grog looks at Bink as he kicks in the door.

Crumbled and shattered sapphire tiles cover the floor, and remanants of silk tapestries drape the walls.  Thousands of small points of light dot the ceiling.  Thirty feet of space separates two bone-pale altars that are in the left and right side of the room.  Another large door lays on the other side of this room.  However, someone stands inbetween.

She is hideously ugly.  Patches of her skin and hair seemed to have been replaced by some mummified leather.  She is wearing full plate armor and weilds an ornate mace.  The eye-in-hand symbol is seen on her.  She calmly and coolly casts a spell as the Heroes enter.

Bink replies in turn.  He casts _haste_ and launches a _fireball_ at the priestess and a few ghouls that were rising around her.  The fire incinerates the ghouls, but the priestess seems unaffected.

Grog flies into a rage and charges the woman.  Eltharion and Balophan follow suit.  All of them miss on their initial attacks; the woman is heavily armored and protected by magic.

She steps back and casts another spell.  Grog is enveloped by a column of white-hot flames.  He screams with rage as his skin and fur are scorched terribly.  The priestess smiles evilly.

Grog doesn’t fall.

The priestess' smile fades.

Bink floats up and fires two _lightning bolts _ at the priestess, both of them shocking her terribly.  She staggers back, eyes wide in disbelief.

Grog, Eltharion and Balophan step up, this time unloading a vicious volley of attacks.  Each of them connects with several hits, and the woman is on her knee, bleeding from the mouth.

She steps back again, casting yet another spell.  Her wounds all close up, and she is grinning again.

But not for long.

Bink fires ten _magic missiles _ at her, and Grog, Eltharion and Balophan slash into her again.  This time, she doesn’t fare so well.  Eltharion scores several nicks, and his final stab with his Moon-scimitar sinks deep into her gut.  This proves enough distraction for her to lose her head; literally.  Grog finishes her with an expert strike of his razor-sharp katana.

“Bitch…” Grog spits on her, as he sits down, gritting his teeth at the burns all over his body.  Eltharion heals him a little, and he gets back up.

“Let’s go!” Bink wastes no time, and opens the door on the far side of the chamber.  Eltharion finishes looting the body of the priestess and follows.

The next room holds a 20 foot wide chasm splitting the coal-black chamber.  It seems a stone bridge used to cross it, but it has been destroyed.  Tiny five-foot wide catwalks are on either side of the chamber, with a door on either side as well.  Six ogres are attached to the wall on the other side, by chains wrapped around their torsos.  They all bring large longbows to bear, and fire a volley into the Heroes.  Everyone takes a grazing arrow hit, and they all think fast.

“Retreat, I’ll handle them,” Bink casts _stoneskin_ and the rest of the party retreats out of the room.  The arrows continue to rain in, but Bink is mostly unaffected.  He then flies across the chasm to get in better position for a lightning bolt.

Bad move.

A glyph in the ceiling flashes as he flies over, and he feels his fly spell unravel.  He begins to fall.  However, because of his momentum, he is carried the rest of the way across the chasm, and is able to grab onto the ledge.  He climbs up, firing a _lightning bolt _ down the line, killing all the ogres, who fall lifeless, but stay slightly upright, due to the chains holding them up.

Eltharion, peeking through a crack in the door, opens it, seeing the ogres incapacitated.

“Nice work, Bink,” Eltharion says, looking around.  “How do we get over?”

“Run and jump…” Bink dusts himself off and catches his breath from the near-death experience.

Eltharion tosses over his grappling hook and rope, which Bink attaches to the chains.  Grog and Eltharion are able to crawl across using that method, but it would be complicated for Balophan.

“I’ll just jump,” and so he does, clearing the 20 foot chasm with ease.

“Nice!” Eltharion comments.

“Let’s go…” Bink opens the large door.

A portal archway dominates this 40-foot-high chamber.  The portal stands in a shallow niche along the opposite wall.  Heavy mist fills the entire archway.  Veins of oily fog have spread out from beneath the arch, and they run along the walls and ceiling.  A layer of fallen plaster covers the floor in drifts and dunes.  The room has a cache of barrels, and lots of creatures.  About ten ogres, three half-ogres, three humans, and a purply-skinned ogre with small ivory horns.  All of them have Iuz’s grinning skull symbol on their armor.

“It’s Korbadur…” Bink lowers his gaze toward him, evilly.  Bink re-casts _haste_ on himself, then casts _black tentacles _ onto the main mass of ogres.  The tentacles quickly wrap around and grasp most of them, holding them immobile.  One half-ogre jumps back out of the way, only to brush up against one of the inky-black tendrils of darkness drifting from the portal.  He vanishes with a scream.

Grog, Balophan and Eltharion charge at the three humans and two remaining half-ogres.  They clash, trading blows.

Korbadur lowers his gaze to Bink as well, flying toward him.  He unleashes as _cone of cold_, chilling Bink to the bone.  Bink retaliates with a _lightning bolt _ and a _fireball_.  The lightning doesn’t seem to affect Korbadur too much, but the fire burns him terribly.  Bink’s smile grows.

Eltharion, Grog and Balophan are kept busy by the five Iuz followers.  Grog is able to finish off one, but the everyone is taking heavy damage.  They are probably Iuz’s more powerful mercenaries.

Korbadur flies straight at Bink, slashing out with his greatsword.  Bink feels the burn of the cut to his bicep.  Bink flies back and fires off ten _magic missiles_.  They all pound into Korbadur hard, and his eyes roll back as he falls unconscious.  His head cracks against the ground unceremoniously.

Grog, Eltharion and Balophan finish off another mercenary.  Bink flies over and strikes one with his falchion.  After another minute, they are all dead.

The tentacles mostly hold the ogres, with only two breaking free.  Grog meets them, slashing both of their knee-caps, and cutting them down.  Bink fires an _empowered fireball _ into the rest of the ogres, burning them to the bone.  They all collapse.

Korbadur’s body begins to stir, and Eltharion stabs it again through the skull.  The wound immediately starts to close up, albeit slowly.

“Burn it…” Bink says, using a cantrip to light his thumb afire.  He blows the flame onto the ogre-mage, and the body burns, filling the room with thick, foul-smelling smoke.

“I say we rest here.  Pretty defensible,” Eltharion says.

“What about that?” Balophan points to the tendrils of black energy seeping out of the portal, slowly progressing further and further.

“Let’s sleep on the other side of the chamber…” Grog offers.

They bunk down and rest near the doorway to the chasm-room.  Eltharion and Grog push ogre bodies toward the portal, and as the black tendrils touch them, they vanish.  They quickly clear the room of the rest of the bodies in this manner.

“Tomorrow, I guess we go in the portal,” Bink says.

After a day of rest in the eerie room, the Heroes gather around the portal.

“I guess we go in.  Who’s first?” Bink looks around.  Grog steps up.

“I’m not scared,” he bravely walks into the misty portal, and vanishes.

“Well… let’s go!” Bink shrugs, and jumps in himself.  Balophan and Eltharion follow suit.

Where are they now?  Is Vecna close?  Are you still crying over the loss of Druelnarg?  Wait until next time, for more adventure!


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 21, 2004)

Swirling colorful mist.

“Hello?” Eltharion calls out.  No echo.

“I’m here, where’s Grog and Balophan?” Bink calls out.  He is close.

“I’m here,” Grog responds, also nearby.

“Here too,” Balophan says, the voice coming from a few feet away.

They find each other, and stay within a pace as they walk.  The colored mists fade, and they are soon enveloped in absolute darkness.  The air is wet and cool.  Eltharion pulls out his Sun-sickle, hoping to light up the area.

The light only helps them see a dense fog, which inhibits their vision to about six inches from their face.

“What is this place?” Eltharion asks.

“I’m not sure.  Something doesn’t feel right,” Bink responds.

The ground feels uneven, and almost spongy.  Eltharion leans over and tries to feel what the ground is made of, but the “soil” dissolves into mist before he can bring it close enough to inspect.

They continue to walk blindly into the mists for about ten minutes, when a figure materializes before them.  It is a creature shrouded in dark tattered robes, carrying a huge and wicked looking scythe.  Its face is hidden deep within the shadows of its hood.

“You are not welcome here.  Return whence you came,” a deep and hollow voice calls out to them.

The Heroes look at each other, shrug, turn around and start walking back the way they came.

“Anything you say, sir,” Bink quips.

After another five minutes, the same figure appears in front of them.

“You are not welcome here.  You must go hence!” the cold voice says.

Puzzled, the Heroes reverse course once again.

“Okay…” Eltharion raises a confused eyebrow.

Another three minutes pass.  Once again, the figure appears.

“You must leave this place at once, or perish!”

“Fine!” Bink yells as they turn around once again.

After a minute, the figure re-appears.

“You were warned.  Pay the price.”

Three more identical figures appear, and immediately attack each of the Heroes.

All four of them swing their semi-corporeal scythes down in harmony.  Grog and Bink take a nasty gash a piece.  Balophan and Eltharion are able to dodge.

The Heroes counter.  Eltharion spins and slashes into the reaper with his Moon- and sylvan scimitars.  Two of his cuts pass through the thing harmlessly.  However, the other four do not.  His magical blades pull the reaper fully into corporeality, and cut into it deeply.  The thing bursts into a flock of ravens that scatter harmlessly.  Eltharion’s mouth forms a wicked smile.

Grog is even more successful.  Two powerful overhead chops of his slightly oversized katana (being a goblin and all) turns the reaper into the harmless ravens.

Balophan’s blades pass directly through his reaper, however, and he takes a wicked bladed scythe to the chest.

Bink jumps back and fires off a volley of _magic missiles_, which momentarily cross the corporeal boundry, and strike the undead beast.

Grog runs to Bink to help, and slashes the reaper, destroying it.  Eltharion does the same for Balophan, and after some precise cuts, the final reaper bursts into a flock of ravens.

As these last ravens fly up into the mist and out of sight, the mist starts to fade.  The Heroes discover that they are at the end of a blind alley in a seemingly unfamiliar city.  The only light around is emanating from a crystalline, skull-shaped lamp mounted on a wall brackt about ten feet high, at the entrance to the alley.  A cold breeze wafts around them, and they can hear the distant roaring of wind moaning far overhead.

The walls are smooth and off-white in color.  A row of second floor windows can be seen above, black and lightless.  As they look up, it feels like they are in a canyon; the buildings shoot up over ninety feet, with rushing black clouds overhead.

The rough cobblestones at their feet are strewn with small bits of bone, scraps of paper, broken glass, dead rats, shattered pottery, garbage and other waste.  The stench of rotting meat wafts up from a nearby sewage grate.

A terrible feeling jolts each Hero.  Like the feeling of being trapped, being all alone, and being powerless, all rolled into one.

“I don’t like it here…” Grog says, still gripping his katana.

“Well, I thought I smelled something foul down this way.  Who knew it was the pathetic cretins who knocked me through the portal by accident,” a rough, deep voice calls from the open end of the alley.  A half-ogre steps in and leans on a long spear.  Several full-size ogres begin to filter past him into the alley.  “I though Iuz was crazy to post us here and wait for you to come through.  No way did I think anyone would actually make it.  Damn you for making me doubt my God.”

Eight ogres charge the Heroes.  The half-ogre takes off, running away from the ensuing battle.

Grog and Balophan charge at the ogres, meeting them head-on.  Eltharion casts _barkskin_ and follows suit.  Bink starts pelting the ogres with magic missiles.  Using the corridor to nullify the ogre’s numbers, the Heroes whittle them away.  The Heroes surround the final ogre, and Bink’s presence brings the ogre to his knees.

“Don kill me please!” the ogre begs.

“Then tell us everything you know about this place,” Bink responds, his voice loud and resolute.

“What you want know?” the ogre snivels.

“Everything.  Where is Iuz?  Why were you here?  What is Iuz going to do to Vecna?  Where are we?  Everything,” Bink lists.

“Okay, okay.  Iuz been here for three days now, I think.  Iuz send lotsa guys here from other portals, too.  Iuz going to big tower,” the ogre points, and the Heroes can see four sleek black towers, and one shockingly high one that rises far above the others.  “He gonna eat Vecna.”

“He came here to eat him?” Eltharion chuckles.

“Iuz say that even if he can’t eat Vecna, if he got a ‘magic eye’ or ‘magic hand’ plus da ‘special sword’ dey can kill Vecna.  He goin to da tower right now.  He leave three specially strong groupsa ogres back to stop people like yous,” the ogre grins slightly.

“Shut up.  That’s enough.  Stay in this alley and count to 200.  When you get to 200, you may leave.  If you leave before that, you will die,” Bink says coldly, and the Heroes leave the alley and head for the towers.

Will Iuz kill Vecna and absorb his power?  Can the Heroes stop him?  Which is the lesser of two evils?  Find out the answers, next update!


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## Droid101 (Oct 21, 2004)

*Interlude the Third…*

Dendybar stabs the gnoll in the back with his wicked dagger.  The gnoll falls to its knees, calling out, but no sound comes from its lips.  The dagger was impaled too deep, too perfect.  The gnoll slumped to the ground.

“That damned half-dwarf abomination will never know what hit him…” Dendybar cast _alter self _ and made himself look as much like the gnoll as he could.  “Frole Ganthus… I think I can pull it off.”

………

Ragnar signed in at the Adventurer’s Guildhall.

“Hello, my name is Ragnar.  I’ve come looking for Frole Ganthus, the famed weaponmaster,” Ragnar says to the man behind the counter, wearing brightly colored clothes.

“I’m Basil Evans.  Frole Ganthus, I’ll let him know you’re here.  You know he’s a gnoll, right?” the fop responds.

“No, actually, I didn’t.  But that doesn’t matter.  I’m here to learn,” Ragnar says.

“Just wait here for a minute, I’ll go get him.”


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 25, 2004)

Two raggedly dressed men make their way across the street.  A troupe of animated skeletons comes marching toward them, and they run to cower in an alley.  The shadows of the alley almost seem alive, which causes the men to run off in another random direction.

“Fascinating…” Bink says.  “The undead and the people live here together.”

“Sort of.  The humans are basically slaves,” Eltharion adds.

The Heroes continue toward the towers.  A bleak and deathly feeling permeates the group.  Skeletons, zombies, incorporeal ghosts, and other such undead creatures make their way through the city.  They mostly ignore the Heroes, who stay close to walls and out of the way.

Around another bend a pale cultist wearing Vecna robes is calling out praises to his God.

“You there!  You!  You are new to the Citadel Cavitius!  Come, and hear about the greatness that is Vecna!” the robed man calls out to the Heroes.

“Um… just ignore him…” Bink says as they continue to walk past.

“Confess your sins and become Vecna’s faithful!  Your life in Cavitius depends on it!”

The Heroes keep walking.

“Oh Gods, you’ve come!  You’ve come!!” A young woman comes running from the alley nearby.  She is raggedly dressed and looks very pale and gaunt.  She is practially laughing and sobbing at the same time.  “I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for you to come, and now you’re here.  I saw you in my dreams.  You never came but finally now you’ve come to rescue me.  To complete your quest and to rescue me.  Please don’t die while you complete your quest because you have to rescue me from this terrible place…”

“Okay, okay, calm down, just come with us, we’ll keep you safe,” Bink rolls his eyes.

“Just don’t get in the way,” Eltharion adds.

“Okay, I’ll follow you.  Please rescue me… please…” she rambles on, as they continue walking.

They round another bend.  The press of living and dead citizens is particularly tight as they make their way through a section of streets that seem to wind like a snake.

Suddenly, the street explodes in fire.

The Heroes are able to duck out of the way, but still take some slight burns.

The smell of burning flesh and the screams of dying people fill the alley.  Dozens of victims, both living and undead, lay twitching on the ground as their last moments flee from them in a fit of fire and pain.  Through the thick black smoke, two figures approach.  One is a huge, seven foot tall man with a thick beard and large bastard sword.  The other is a smallish, very thin man.  Both are wearing plate mail inscribed with the grinning skull – Iuz’s symbol.

“Well well well,” the bearded giant starts, drawing his bastard sword.  “Looks like Kher’s puny spell didn’t get ‘em.  Seems like it killed everyone but them.  Good.  I like a little skirmish in the morning”

The huge man charges forward, slashing down and slicing Eltharion on the arm.  Grog and Balophan surround him.  The smaller man stays back and casts a spell, but to no effect.

A larger group of Iuz mercenaries stand on the edge of the devastation, looking on.  About 10 orcs can be seen, along with a man in glittering chainmail, and an half-elf wearing dark robes.  They don’t make any moves; only watching.

Bink flies up and fires a _lightning bolt_ at the spellcaster, shocking his brain and killing him instantly.

“Woah,” Bink looks at his hands.

Eltharion, Grog and Balophan have a little trouble with the large human, however.  Most of their attacks go glancing off his armor, and he hacks into them liberally.

Grog gets a lucky strike in, bringing the man to his knees.  Eltharion finishes him off with a lethal six-hit combo from his Sun-sickle and Moon-scimitar.

The orcs standing away from them charge in at this point.  The half-elf fires off four _magic missiles_ and takes off with the man in sparkling chainmail.  The missiles pelt into Grog hard.

“I’ll follow them!” Bink says.

“No, let them go,” Eltharion responds as he engages the Iuz following orcs.

A _fireball_ and six seconds of melee later, and the orcs are downed.  The street is littered with close to 40 bodies.  The Heroes look around and see the crazy girl.  She’s charred practically beyond all recognition.

“Guess we couldn’t rescue her…” Eltharion shakes his head, and the Heroes move on toward the towers.

The cramped street opens up into a wide plaza.  Five gallows stand upon the ground in front of a huge palace.  Five towers spring from the top of the huge palace.  Four of them are bone white, like all the other buildings in the city.  The middle one, however, is a deep black spire that pierces the sky.  It reached up farther than any tower the Heroes have ever seen.

“That’s quite a large tower…” Eltharion trails off as he tilts his head back to see the whole thing.

As they approach, they see that the five gallows each have five nooses, and five pikes with human heads on them.  There are several people hanging from the gallows; their bodies impaled on spikes that are below, several of them are howling in pain, still very much alive.  Bink stops a human citizen who is running away from the palace.

“What crime did these people commit?” Bink asks.

“They violated Vecna’s laws,” the man answers with a blank expression, and he moves on.

The Heroes walk around the gallows and their animated skeleton guards.  They walk right up to the palace doors.  Eltharion pushes them open.  A grand hall lies beyond.

“Well, that was easy…” Eltharion says.

Can the Heroes navigate the palace successfully?  What horrors await them?  Is there any way out of the plane of Ravenloft?  Find out more, next time!


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## Droid101 (Oct 26, 2004)

The grand hall is a circular room with a ceiling that soars up five stories.  From it hangs four intricate chandeliers, each casting a greenish-yellow jaundiced glow over the room.  The ground is covered in polished flagstones, each the size of a coffin.  A huge staircase leads from the middle of the room up to the fifth story.  A throne surrounded by spider webs sits on the floor between two 20-foot tall cloaked skeletons, holding equally huge bastard swords.

“Watch out, they’ll probably animate…” Bink says warily, his hand on his spell components.

Eltharion feels brave.  He walks right up to the ornate throne and sits down.  A sudden rush of images and emotions that no mortal can describe thunder through his mind.  He gets out of the throne, his head throbbing slightly.

“Ouch…” Eltharion mumbles as they head toward the staircase.

As they ascend the huge staircase, they hear heavy footsteps moving toward them from inside the doors at the top.  A hideous creature comes into view.

The thing is seven feet tall, and an amalgamation of hands.  Wearing black robes, the Heroes can see the thing’s face and hands are actually dozens of smaller hands sewn together.  Its feet are even large, gauntleted giant hands.  The Heroes grab their weapons.

_I mean you no harm, strangers in the house of Vecna,_ the thing communicates telepathically.  Its “voice” sounds like a raspy whisper accompanied by the sound of the golem snapping its many fingers at random.

“And, we mean you no harm,” Bink replies out loud.

_You have come here in search of the other trespassers, and I am here to take you to their leader,_ the Hand says in their minds.

“No, we came for V…” Balophan starts, but Bink hits him in the stomach.

“Yes, yes we have,” Bink responds to the Hand.

_This trespasser poses a threat to my master, the Whispered One, and I want you to eliminate him,_ the Hand’s “voice” is soothing.

“What is going to happen?” Eltharion asks.

_It is in your best interested to defeat Iuz.  If he is successful, the first thing he will do is destroy Citadel Cavitius, and all its inhabitants.  That includes you.  Using my master’s power, the Old One will add your life to his own, becoming so m ighty that he will ascend to full God-hood,_ the Hand responds.  _Quickly, follow me, we will properly arm you from the armory, and then stop the Old One from destroying our beloved Vecna._

And so the Heroes are led quite quickly through the palace.  They ascend to the top of the huge staircase, and pass into a hallway with many doors.  The Hand leads them quickly down yet another hallway with many more doors.  Finally, the Hand opens a door made of red and black marble, and they head into a room.

Evil energy pours onto the Heroes, each of them gritting their teeth.  The ground in the room is carved to look like writing humans and snakes intertwined.  It makes it slightly difficult to walk.

Inside, there are nine wall panels, each with an intricate scene carved into it.  They seem to tell the story of Vecna’s ascension.  It starts with a young Vecna gaining power.  It goes on to show his ascension, war, and then imprisonment in the Citadel.  The seventh panel, in the process of being carved by invisible artisans, shows Iuz stabbing Vecna with a wickedly serrated blade.

“Looks like Iuz wins… that’s bad,” Eltharion says.

The final two wall panels are blank.

The Hand leads them to the back wall, and after a moment of concentration, it slides open, revealing what looks like an evil church.

The walls and floor are black marble, inlaid with red veins.  Black pews stand in neat rows, and an altar and spiral staircase are at the front of the chamber.  The room is dimly lit, so Eltharion pulls out his Sun-sickle to light it up.

Several banners bearing Vecna’s eye-in-hand symbol adorn the walls.  The Hand heads straight for the stairs, hardly stopping.  The Heroes keep pace.

The staircase is made of a harder black marble than any of the Heroes have ever encountered before.  The walls of the claustrophobic stairwell are carved with images of naked humans and demihumans being stabbed by various instruments, along with being crushed by snakes.  Even the steps themselves are each a naked humanoid in a different state of torture.

The Hand leads them up to a smooth marble door, and concentrates.  The door opens, and the Hand motions to another door in the new hallway.

_Go into that room and talk to the Eye.  He is knowledgable, and may be able to help you defeat Iuz,_ the Hand states, and stays in the stairwell.

The Heroes go into the room, and see hundreds of mirrors all over the walls.  On the opposite side of the chamber, a black-cloak clad golem stands, however, this one is made out of many eyes.  All the eyes dart to the Heroes.

_What do you want here?_ The Eye communicates telepathically.

“The Hand sent us to find out how to defeat Iuz,” Bink says.

_I know nothing, leave this place now,_ the Eye curiously responds, and turns away from the Heroes, sitting back down.

The Heroes go back to the Hand and are led up another set of stairs.  The Hand opens yet another door, and points out into the hall.

_Arm yourselves quickly, we must get to our lord Vecna!_ And the Hand remains motionless in the inky black spiral stairwell.  The Heroes run out into the hall and see three figures.  One is the half-ogre who had insulted them when they fought the ogres when they first arrived in the Citadel.  The other two are the ones who retreated from their battle with the orcs.  They are arguing about the doorway they are standing in front of.  They are all clearly injured from previous battle.

“We need another spell, just use it, and then we’ll be fine!” the human says to the half-elf.

“Well, look who we have here…” Eltharion chuckles, his hands on the hilts of his fine Sun- and Moon- blades.  Grog growls at them menacingly.  Bink snaps his fingers; his thumb lighting on fire.  Balophan hovers over them, as well.

“We surrender…” the half-elf concedes.

“Good.  Now leave the palace,” Bink states flatly.

“But, we might get killed on the…” the half-elf starts to argue.

“You might get killed right here.  Go, now,” Bink reiterates.  The three followers of Iuz don’t argue any more, and they leave.

Bink _knocks_ the door, and they head in…

…and see the most vast collection of armaments they’ve ever witnessed.  Bink shifts his vision to the magical spectrum, but has to switch back out, because he is practially blinded by all the magic radiating off the items therein.

“What a treasure trove…” Eltharion’s eyes quickly meet a set of woodlands-inspired items, including a staff, bow, scimitar, and several other trinkets.

Bink, Grog, and Balophan are similarly struck, and wander to items listlessly.

“It’s gonna take a bit more ‘n a bunch of googley eyed ‘eroes to defeat the likes of a God,” a voice (think Chutney Englishman) is heard from a dark corner of the treasure trove.  A figure steps out.  The thing is clearly undead.  A once full head of curly red hair and thick beard is all but white and stringy now.  His pale skin is pulled tight over his face.  He wears dark black cloaks, and has two longswords sheathed at his sides.

“And I suppose you’re going to help us…” Bink’s eyes dart to Eltharion and Grog, then back to the undead creature.

“Perhaps.  Perhaps I’ve got a bone to pick wit ‘em Gods.  Perhaps I’m the one oo’s takin’ you along wit me,” the thing responds.

“So how can you help us?” Bink asks.

“ ‘ow rude of me!  Name’s Bloodthorne.  Pleased to make your acquaintance,” the undead creature offers a decayed hand.  Bink shakes it tentatively.  “Now den.  You ‘ere to kill the Old One, or da Whispered One?”

“Hopefully both,” Eltharion puts in.

“I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout Iuz, really.  ‘cept that I’m probly as old as ‘im,” this brings a throaty chuckle to Bloodthorne; the Heroes listen on with raised brows.  “Vecna, ‘owever, is simple.  ‘aint you ever ‘eard the tales?  The traitor Kas, wielding the _Sword of Kas_, using the _‘and of Vecna_, is able to defeat his former lord, sending him to this hell they call Ravenloft.”

“I think I have heard that,” Bink says.

“So, it’s simple.  Find the relic, the _‘and of Vecna_, put it on.  Take this sword, the _Sword of Kas_, den cut Vecna.  Simple as pie,” Bloodthorne says, tossing them a wickedly serrated blade that he picks up off a nearby table.  The sword looks exactly like the ones depicted on two of the panels in the shrine they passed through.  Both times it was stabbing Vecna (once by Kas, his traitor general, and once by Iuz, the Old One).

Bink catches the blade.

“Any volunteers?” Bink says a little sheepishly.  He tosses the blade to Eltharion.  Eltharion feels the weight, and then tosses it to Grog.

“Weighted like my katana…” Grog says reluctantly.

“I guess we have a winner.”

Will Grog put on the _Hand of Vecna_?  Will a little goblin be the savior of mankind (again)?  Will Bloodthorne betray them at first opportunity?  Find out all this and more, next update!


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## sandtiger (Oct 27, 2004)

WOW.  I am amazed that these guys just waltz into places and proceed to try to kill gods or ascending folks.  Man, their bravery/foolhardiness makes them legendary.

I really like the "extras" you have added.  They are memorable and make the story alot more real. Most characters are three dimensional and have their own agenda.  Very nice.  

Also, their enemies aren't stupid.  I was freaked to see Dendybar show up again.  I guess he also had a clone?  

I guess my confusion is mostly what are they trying to do?  Just kill things which are "bad"? Don't let anyone ascend until one of them can? Wander around through dimensions and ages for the heck of it?  I can tell they are overall enjoying what they are doing, so more power (heh, heh) to them.

Finally, I enjoyed immensely the interaction between "Neccy" and Eltharion.  Hopefully we will see more of this.

Thanks for writing this.

Sandtiger


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## Droid101 (Oct 27, 2004)

sandtiger said:
			
		

> WOW.  I am amazed that these guys just waltz into places and proceed to try to kill gods or ascending folks.  Man, their bravery/foolhardiness makes them legendary.



They have no fear.  Even when I try to instill fear.  It kinda makes me a little scared.


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> Also, their enemies aren't stupid.  I was freaked to see Dendybar show up again.  I guess he also had a clone?



Dendybar clone?  No no.  Are you talking about him showing up in "Interlude the Third?"  That's not a clone.  Everything that happens in the Interludes all happened in the past, before the Heroes' stuff.



			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> I guess my confusion is mostly what are they trying to do?  Just kill things which are "bad"? Don't let anyone ascend until one of them can? Wander around through dimensions and ages for the heck of it?  I can tell they are overall enjoying what they are doing, so more power (heh, heh) to them.



Good question.  Eltharion's goal is to become powerful enough to destroy Lloth (hah).  Bink just wants teh Ultimate power.  Whatever that is.  Ogrim wants to make the dwarven nation proud of his actions.  Everyone's goals are pretty vague, making it easy for them to go around and do whatever is right in front of them.



			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> Finally, I enjoyed immensely the interaction between "Neccy" and Eltharion.  Hopefully we will see more of this.



You will.



			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> Thanks for writing this.
> 
> Sandtiger



You're welcome!!


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## Droid101 (Oct 27, 2004)

“It’ll only hurt for a second, Grog, I promise,” Bink says.  Grog was tugging on Bink’s rainbow robe.

Eltharion brandished his Moon-scimitar in both hands.  The blade was extra sharp, so it was chosen for the grisly deed.

“One, two, three!” the blade came down in a streak of greenish light.  The instant Grog’s hand separated, Bink repeatedly cast _cure moderate wounds _ to heal him up and dull the pain.

“Grrrrrrr…” Grog emitted a low growl, but hardly winced.  He didn’t look at his now-missing hand.

“The little one took it like a man, I’d say,” Bloodthorne watched on.

Bink carefully took the mummified _Hand of Vecna _ out of his sack, and placed it on Grog’s stump.  Instantaneously, it fused to the arm and Grog’s eyes glossed over a little.

“How do you feel?” Balophan the centaur bent down to ask.

“I feel like you should shut up!” Grog exclaimed, grabbing the Sword of Kas.

“Sounds like a cocky God to me,” Eltharion quips.

“Don’t worry Grog, I’m keeping your hand magically preserved, and the minute we’re able to, we’ll replace it,” Bink says, putting Grog’s hand into a separate sack, casting a few cantrips.

“Let’s hurry it up, then.  You coming, zombie?  Stay out of my way,” Grog put bluntly, looking down at his now-mummified left hand, shaking his head.

“I’m ‘ardly a zombie, mate,” Bloodthorne chuckles anyway.

The Heroes head back to the black marble stairwell, and the Hand golem.  He leads them all the way to the top of the stairs.  At the top of the spiral staircase, another doorway is present.  However, this one has its bone-white doors blasted off its hinges.  The party rushes in, the Hand stays behind.

A large room lies inside.  Scintillating colors seem to engulf the chamber, spinning wildly about the room like a powerful maelstrom.  The room seems almost identical to the room when they entered the palace, throne and all.  The walls are covered with murals displaying Vecna’s armies rampaging and massacring as they go.

Bodies of ogres and humans are scattered across the floors, along with shattered skeletons.  Several ogres and humans are standing, transfixed at the spiraling colors.  One Iuz mercenary seems aware, and turns to the Heroes.

“Stay out of this… or you will die!” the man hisses.

Beyond him, against the far wall, lies the throne.  Standing on the steps leading up to it is a bent over old shriveled looking old man, with sweat beading on his forehead.  He is swinging a blade back and forth through the colored energy (the blade looks identical to the one Grog is holding).  His left eye is glowing a bright red, and the energy is surging toward the throne.

Upon the throne sits a robe clad decaying skeletal creature.  He is missing his left eye and left hand.  He is tracing arcane symbols in the air with his other hand, creating layer after layer of colored magical energy.

The Heroes stand transfixed by the swirling energies, watching Iuz slowly break through Vecna’s arcane defenses.  Finally, Iuz slashes past the final arcane wall, and slashes his _Sword of Kas _ into Vecna.  A look of disbelief appears on Vecna’s skeletal visage…

…that turns into a wicked smile, as the blade shatters against his old bones.

Iuz, the Old One, can’t even muster a surprised gasp as he stares at the bladless hilt in his grasp.  Vecna stands up.

“You were always feebleminded and weak, Iuz,” Vecna says, his voice sounding not like a single man, but rather like a thousand whispering voices speaking together.  “You inherited your father’s intelligence, obviously.  Now, you will pay the price for your arrogance and stupidity…”

Vecna places his right hand on Iuz’s balding head, and the Iuz bursts into flames.  He screams mightily, but cannot move.  The flames seem to be seeping directly into Vecna.

“NO!” the Iuz mercenary charges Vecna, and the other ogres still standing do so as well.  Just as they start moving, all the dead ogre bodies shamble to their feet and interpose themselves between Iuz and his minions.  Combat ensues.

Eltharion charges forward toward the nearest ogre, slashing into him.  Bloodthorne floats a foot off the ground, and flies toward the same ogre, flanking him perfectly.  Bloodthorne’s two longswords move with lightning quick precision, slicing deeply into the ogre’s kidneys, taking him down.

“Hey, not bad,” Eltharion remarks.

“And I thank you…” Bloodthorne bows low; only to take a pounding fist from another ogre.

Balophan pushes through and knocks a few ogres aside, trying to make a path for Grog to get through to Vecna.  Grog jumps forward and pushes an ogre aside as well.  Bink fires off a _lightning bolt _ and singes several ogres and zombie ogres simultaneously.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that one, ‘ear me well,” Bloodthorne spins to face the ogre who hit him.  “You limey, yellow bellied piece of filth that I scraped offa kobold!”

The ogre’s jaw drops; his rage building quickly.  That hesitation cost him his life, and his head.  Bloodthorne’s razor-sharp blades liberate him of those.

Balophan and Grog break through, and charge Vecna.  Balophan grits his teeth and swings his longsword at him.  The blade glances off his arm, as he is still absorbing Iuz.

“Spare me your pitiful attempts at resistance,” Vecna spits evilly, and everyone in the room falls to their knees, compulsed by powerful magic.  Everyone except Grog.

Iuz’s body dissolves completely in that instant, and a few final wisps of flame spiral up into Vecna’s empty left eye socket.  In a split second, Vecna’s bent and skeletal form changes into a tall dark haired man with handsome features.  His eyes glow with an unholy red fire.  He has a humorless grin on his face.

“You have lost, you have all lost…” he bellows.

“Think again,” Grog steps forward, his eyes go bloodshot, his small frame bulges and grows with rage.  His pointy teeth grate against each other hard.  He swings his _Sword of Kas _ as hard as he possibly can…

…and Vecna stumbles backward from the immensely powerful blow.  His right hand goes to a bleeding gash across his stomach, looking down at his lifeblood pouring from his body.  His face grows dark, and he curses Grog in a language that nobody in the room understands, though his words make Grog tremble.  Suddenly, the floor beneath Grog’s feet vanishes, and he plummets down into the inky blackness.

“NO!!!” Eltharion screams, forces himself up to his feet, and charges Vecna.

“I am done here.  The Godlings who played at rulership here will trouble me no more.  This reality will be destroyed in moments.  It has always been my destiny to be the master of all that is or ever was.  I shall undo all that has been, and become master of all that there shall be.  You no longer concern me.  We will not meet again,” Vecna’s voice is deep and commanding, and with it, the walls of the room seem to insubstantiate; turning into mist.

Eltharion can’t charge any more, because the ground is no longer there.

The Heroes and remaining ogres fall into a seemingly bottomless abyss.

Did Vecna win?  Is this the end of my campaign?  Did Bloodthorne really hurt the feelings of that poor ogre???  Find out this and more, if there is a next update!


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## Droid101 (Oct 27, 2004)

*Meanwhile…*

Ogrim traveled back home to the kingdom of Baron.  After he passed the great Wall of Baron, many groups of tents could be seen.  The dwarves have moved in.

Ogrim was given audience with king Baron and the king of the dwarves.  The dwarves had agreed to help Baron bolster its defenses against a possible attack from the drow, in exchange for gaining a place of respite.

In the following days, Ogrim helped to defend against a dark elf scout they found trying to get past the Wall.

A few days later, Ogrim got a message in his head.

_Return to Brunswick if possible.  Mysterious disappearances.  Need help!_

Ogrim bade the dwarven king farewell, and said he would return as soon as possible to help keep the dwarves bolster defense.

Ogrim reached Brunswick castle a few days later.

On his way to the castle, he was attacked by a large metallic cat in an alleyway.  After a tough battle, he was able to put the thing down.

“Moradin help Brunswick…” Ogrim grumbled.

Ogrim reached the castle, where he was greeted by Adlai.

“We have an emergency…” Adlai was almost frantic.  His time serving as the king of Brunswick hasn’t served him well.  Felix wasn’t much of a help, but he did what he could.  “Okay, so I thought it would be a good idea to order some adamantium for some of our higher ranking soldiers.  You know, in case the dark elves actually do venture out of the dwarven stronghold they took over, and come looking for a fight.  I wanted our men to be prepared.

“However, the shipment never arrived.  I ordered it from… well, from another plane.  The Outlands.  The city of Rigus, in particular.  I need you to go there and perhaps find out what happened to the shipment.”

“I’d be glad to.  So how do I get to this other plane?” Ogrim asks.

“Actually, we have a portal in the castle that leads to Sigil, which is on the plane of Outlands.  From there, you should be able to find a portal to Rigus,” Adlai responds.  “Ready to go?”

“Sure, but first, you should know that I ran into some big metallic cat inside the city walls, behind the big weapon store,” Ogrim responds.

“I’ll have someone look into it.  Come with me,” Adlai leads Ogrim to the jail, and then through the secret passage that leads down into the Oubliette.  They travel down the spiral staircase to the very bottom, and walk to the cell that is boarded off.

“Didn’t you say something terrible happened in that jail cell, and that’s why it was boarded off?” Ogrim inquires.

“Well, I had to say something,” Adlai pulls a few of the boards off.  “It’s actually a contingency plan for the castle, if something were to go wrong.  Just go through, and it leads you straight to Sigil.  Ask around, and you should find a portal to Rigus.  I would ask you for you haste.  Thanks.”

“Of course,” Ogrim steps through, and is gone.


----------



## Droid101 (Oct 28, 2004)

Eltharion falls and lands on his head quite unceremoniously.  He sits up and looks around.  Bink, Balophan, and Bloodthorne are also nearby, looking around curiously.

Buildings with ostentatious metallic blades and stone spikes line a wide cobblestone boulevard.  Sculpted faces and gargoyle-like figures perch over every door, pillar and rainspout.  Fanciful iron grillwork covers many windows, and evil-looking vines sporting serrated leaves grow wild in the shadowed side streets.  Despite the stranges designs, all the buildings are in good condition.  Save a 200-foot wide swath of utter destruction that blasted through the heart of a block of buildings.  The swath still glows with the residue of a massive power release.  The path of destruction leads off into the city, in the direction of a distant pillar of smoke and fire.

“Don’t even tell me, I don’t want to look.  I just want a drink…” Eltharion says dejectedly.  Nobody argues, and they all head down a nearby street.  “Where’s a bar?  Hello?  Nearest bar please…”

“Thataway,” a rough looking dwarf passerby answers.

The Heroes head straight in.  Eltharion walks right up to the bar.

“Hard liquor, hardest you got.  Give me the bottle,” Eltharion grabs the bottle and four glasses, taking them to a table Bink had picked out.  Eltharion pours everyone a glass, and he downs his in one gulp without hesitation.  He fills it again.

“I can’t believe Grog is… gone…” Bink says quietly.

“I told you not to say that…” Eltharion takes another drink.

“No you didn’t.  Where are we?” Balophan looks around at the strange people in the bar, finally taking notice.

Every type of person imaginable is present.  Dwarves, elves, humans; creatures seemingly made out of elements, people with horns, tails, scales, and just about anything else one could think of.

“What happened to my staff… and my amulet?  Where’s all the stuff I got?” Bink curses.  Nobody else has any of the items they got from Vecna’s armory, either.

“Where are we?” Balophan asks a nearby halfling.

“Are you daft?  Yer in Sigil, the greatest city in the multiverse!” the halfling answers ecstatically.

“I heard of this place when I was in Limbo with Trek,” Bink says.  “Supposed to be the center of the universe or something.”

“Who cares…” Eltharion drinks again.

“Remember how Grog always used to tug on my robe?” Bink chuckles.

“He was very strong, not even just for a goblin.  I think he was stronger than I am.  Quite brave too,” Balophan adds.

“ ‘e was willin’ to lose ‘is ‘and for yer cause.  Something can be said for that kind of fool’ardiness,” Bloodthorne says.

“Remember when we first met him?  He tried to attack us, and Ogrim threw his axe in the fire.  He was so angry.  And now he’s gone…” Eltharion’s mood lightens slightly, but after his statement he goes sour again, taking another swig.

Bink felt a tugging on his robe.  His eyes lit up and he spun around…

…but it wasn’t Grog.

However, it was Ogrim.

“What in the world… why are you here?” Bink asks, shaking his friend’s hand.

“Adlai sent me to check on an adamantium shipment that went missing.  I had to come through Sigil to get to Rigus.  You all want to come?” Ogrim says.

“Sorry, end of the world pending.  Get back to you later…” Eltharion drinks.

“Your timing is a might bad, I’d say.  Vecna tore through this city and I’m sure we aint done with ‘em yet,” Bloodthorne says, as he was keenly listening to other patrons of the bar.  “Name’s Bloodthorne.  Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Ogrim Oakenshield.  Vecna?  End of the world?  What’re ye about?”  Ogrim asks curiously.

The Heroes relate everything that happened to them up until now, including the circle of stones and all the portals, the inner sanctum, the relics, the evil plane of Ravenloft, the tower, and Grog falling into the depths right before their eyes.

“That’s quite a tale…” Ogrim responds after soaking in the information.

“I guess we should go see what happened in the center of the city,” Bink says reluctantly.

“Not until I have another drink…” Eltharion gets a new bottle from the bartender, and pours everyone a glass.  They all raise their glasses to the center of the table.

“To Grog.”


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## Droid101 (Oct 28, 2004)

Current levels/stats for the characters.

*Eltharion Ulthuan * - Elf Ranger 5 / Druid 5 / Ancestral Avenger 6. S18* D24* C10 I13 W14 Ch12. 

*Ogrim Oakenshield* - Dwarf Fighter 8 / Cleric of Moradin 1 / Dwarven Defender 7. S18 D14 C22* I13 W15 Ch12. 

*Bink the Sorcerer* - Human Sorcerer 7 / Wizard 2 / Eldritch Master 7. S15 D16* C16* I15 W14 Ch22*. 

*Grog of Grumbar * - Goblin Barbarian 16. S20 D18* C16 I10 W16 Ch9. 

*Bloodthorne* - Curst Human Rogue 10 / Urostifter 3. S18 D18 C0 I18 W16 Ch16. 

*Balophan* - Centaur Ranger 11.  S20 D18 C14 I13 W16 Ch15.


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## Droid101 (Oct 28, 2004)

*Several Years Prior...*

His eyes opened.  He could see.  Why?  Why couldn’t he just be dead?  Why couldn’t this life end?  Why must he exist!?

He got up.  He looked around.  The adventuring party he had been traveling with was dead.  Each of their bodies mangled and slashed beyond recognition.  He looked down at his arms and his stomach.  Still ripped and torn, but slowly healing.

He hated being undead.  He hated his entire existence.

“Why didn’t it kill me…?” Bloodthorne asked, but nobody was around to hear him.

His weapons and all his magic items were gone, along with the rest of the party’s items.

“Great.  Now I ‘ave to get out of this damned place with nothing!” Bloodthorne exclaims.

This was the fifth try at suicide.  Well, legitimate try, that is.

Of course he had tried countless times before.  He tried to cut off his own head.  He tried to immerse himself in holy water.  He ate holy wafers for a week, only to have to cut a hole in his stomach to empty the contents.

Then he started provoking people.  He’d rush at a church, hoping they would turn him or banish him.  Nothing worked.  He remained alive.  Alive for too long.  He needed to die.

So then, he started to team up with random adventurers, hoping he could convince them to go and fight the most powerful beings that they could find, in hopes that they’d have some special method to kill him.

Of course, all five of these attempts had failed.  After a brutal fight with a dragon, he woke up a few minutes later to see his comrades being eaten by the huge creature.  He snuck off, hoping to try again with a different group, and a different monster.

Nothing.  He was invincible.  Every person’s dream was his nightmare.  He couldn’t taste, couldn’t feel, couldn’t exist in any society.  He just wanted to die.

“I guess divine intervention is my only ‘ope,” Bloodthorne talked to himself as he skipped out of the underground passage.  “Now, I just gotta find a group of adventurers stupid enough to piss off a God…”


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## Droid101 (Nov 1, 2004)

“What about me?” a voice from behind Bink is followed by a tug on his rainbow robes.

“Grog!” the Heroes spin around to see their companion alive and well.  Except, of course, for his left hand, still replaced by the black and ancient Hand of Vecna.

“We thought you were dead!” Bink says.  “What happened?”

“Well, I fell down that hole, and suddenly I was in this weird city.  People were complaining about some 30 foot tall God that just walked through some buildings,” Grog starts.

“I told you I didn’t want to know,” Eltharion takes another drink.

“So I found my way here to the bar, hoping to find a way home,” Grog finishes.

“We’re not goin’ ‘ome quite yet little one,” Bloodthorne states.  “We’ve got a date with a deity.”

“Well, I’m ready to pay him back for the bump on my head,” Grog chuckles.  “But that sword I had is gone.  Can we even kill him?”

“I don’t know, but let’s head toward all that smoke and see what’s going on,” Bink says, and they get up and head toward the smoke rising into the sky.  Eltharion is helped up by Balophan and Ogrim.

The Heroes approach the smoke.  A massive structure squats in the center of a wide, but nonetheless crowded, field of cobblestones.  The fortresslike building stretches 600 feet long and over 400 feet wide.  In the ruins of what may have been four towers are huge pillars of smoke and fire.  A metallic framework rises all around the building, reaching a height of 1000 feet above the center of the fortress.  Older, rusted portions of the framework have been replaced recently by some mirror-bright metal, and Vecna’s eye-in-hand symbol is prominent.

The field of cobblestones barely contains a surging and motley army.  The army is composed of humans, elves, dwarves, plane-touched humanoids, creatures both divine and infernal, and stranger beasts.  Obviously mighty, they still give the central structure a wide berth.  Thousands of bodies lay scattered and dead within that 200 foot perimeter.

The army respects one other perimeter.  A wide clearing surrounds a group of six figures, all of which are levitating a few feet above the cobblestones.  Five of the figures are gaunt, robed humanoids sporting small horns.  A stream of glowing glyphs hangs like haze near them.  The five surround a larger figure in voluminous multicolored robes, who wears an elaborate bladed and spiked headpiece.

“Looks like we’re late…” Ogrim says as the Heroes push through the army toward the strange floating figures.

A small group tests the perimeter as the Heroes approach the floating figures.  As they run toward the huge building, a floating black ball darts out of the building and connects with one of them, and they drop to the floor quite dead.  The other two keep running, but are stopped by the front door, unable to budge it.  The ebony ball finishes them off quickly.

“Great, how the hell do we get in there?” Eltharion asks.

The Heroes reach the floating figures.  Bink kneels, and the rest of them follow suit.

“We were present when Vecna fled his plane of imprisonment and came here.  We wish to help in any way we can,” Bink says.

The five figures around the lady in the center begin to wave their hands, and glowing glyphs begin to spell out words in the air.

_I know the shape of things to come, yet this I did not see.  Beyond even the devices of the Whispered One, salvation is offered.  The Serpent’s protégé may yet be stopped and removed from this place that is profane for any God to tread.

You are the first, last, and only hope.  Only you may stand against this God, you who have incorporated tangible portions of this God’s once-mortal flesh.

Vecna’s death ward around the Armory will not stop you, nor can his divine energies burn you.  If the warp and weft of the cosmos you wish to preserve, make all haste; remove Vecna from this place.  It may be that you will succeed._

With that, the lady in the center turns away from them and once again faces the Armory.

The Heroes look at each other reluctantly.  They look at Grog and his blackened hand.

“So who wants to try the head?” Bink asks, as he opens up his sack of Vecnan relics.

“What does she mean?” Ogrim asks, still a little bewildered by the situation.

“We have all these body parts that were once part of Vecna.  If you cut off your body part, and then attach his, you gain some power of some kind.  Also, according to those floating guys, we should be able to get past that perimeter of death and enter the palace.  As an added bonus, Vecna can’t use any divine powers against us while we have them on.  So we need to each put one on if we’re going to stop Vecna.” Bink summarizes.

“I call the foot,” Bloodthorne picks up the blackened foot, cuts off his own foot without hesitation, and attaches Vecna’s.  “Mm.  Feel a bit faster.”

A group starts to surround the Heroes, seeing how they have Vecnan relics.

“You can get into the Armory with those!  You can stop Vecna!” a cheer goes up around them.

“Yeah, uh, do you know what these do?” Bink holds out a couple of the relics.

“It’s said that that one can destroy the others, and lets you eat anything!”

“That one can make someone do whatever you want!”

“That one makes you impervious to fire!”

“That one makes you grow ten feet tall!”

“Okay… thanks…” Bink looks to the party.  “I’ll take the tooth.  If you can believe them, I think that I can actually eat the other ones after we’re done with this, and destroy them.”

“I’ll take the pinky.  I don’t want to lose much more than that…” Eltharion says.

Balophan and Ogrim each get a different finger.  After a grisly scene of self-mutilation (Bink’s dagger in his mouth probably the worst of it) the Heroes have some blackened or mummified pieces attached.

“Everybody ready?” Bink says, looking at the Armory.  “Let’s do this.”

Will the Heroes get too attached to their relics?  Is the _Foot of Vecna _ less decayed than the rest of Bloothorne?  What other perils lay in wait?  Find out next time!


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## Sandain (Nov 1, 2004)

Mmm more Vecna goodness!  I am really enjoying this story hour - thankyou for updating so regularly.


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## Droid101 (Nov 1, 2004)

Sandain said:
			
		

> Mmm more Vecna goodness!  I am really enjoying this story hour - thankyou for updating so regularly.



Glad you're enjoying yourself.

Here's a hyper extra bonus super post today:

Meanwhile…

“Do you know what I’ve gone through to get here?  Do you understand the suffering I’ve been through?  First, I found myself in this hell of hells, Carceri.  What a terrible place.

“It sure doesn’t look like hell.  Maybe like Tomaru, on a busy day.  Bustling, busy; like a town.  But no.  Anyone could be out to get you.  Any passer by could be a possible assassin.  You never know who wants you dead.  Or who wants you to suffer.  Or who wants to tear out your still beating heart, only to turn around and sell it to some bloodthirsty demon.

“But don’t worry, I made it here.  Of course I had my share of trouble.  A man I came to trust betrayed me.  I almost died.  You see this scar?  Need I say more?

“Finally, _finally,_ I found a portal.  After weeks of watching my back, of no sleep.  So I come.  And now, you think you can stand in my way?  You think you are going to stop me from getting out of this damned hell?” Dendybar flashes his longsword and dagger.

The half-fiend lizardman couldn’t respond.  Dendybar was standing on his neck.

“When I find that damned elf, Eltharion, I’m going to put him through a hell the likes of which he’ll never forget…” Dendybar stabbed down with his sword into the lizard creature’s eyes.  The thing gurgled a cough, but was soon unconscious.

Dendybar stepped through the shimmering portal.

Strange architecture, statues, spires, arches and the like were everywhere.

“So this is Sigil…”


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## Droid101 (Nov 3, 2004)

Sorry for the lack of daily weekday updates.  I feel bad.

Had a bit of writer's block for the past couple of days (plus actually having WORK to do at work).

Hopefully I'll get an update up tomorrow and Friday.  Thanks for readin'!


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## Sandain (Nov 3, 2004)

*waits patiently*


----------



## Droid101 (Nov 3, 2004)

Bink, Grog, Eltharion, Ogrim, Balophan and Bloodthorne head toward the Armory.

A big cheer goes up from the crowd of soldiers, mercenaries and others.

“They have Vecnan relics!  They’re going to win!”

“Look at them go!  How brave!”

“Three cheers for the Heroes!!”

They continue forward.  Several black balls are patrolling the perimeter.  Normally, when anyone came within range, they’d shoot over and burn a hole into their chest.  However, since the Heroes had incorporated Vecnan relics (Eltharion, Ogrim and Balophan had fingers, Bink had a molar, Grog had the Hand and Bloodthorne a foot) the black balls paid them no heed.  They reach a half crumbled and scorched marble staircase that leads up to a metal-lined circular opening.  They proceed inside.

Thick steel doors bind each end of this hall, though both currendly stand open.  A fine layer of ash and soot is swept into the corners of the room.  Several forms lay in this mess, seemingly sleeping or dead.

At the same time, they all stand and face the Heroes with empty eyes and decaying skin.

“Name your allegiance!” one of the things asks in a croaking and dry voice.

“Uh, Vecna?” Eltharion says, holding up his blackened pinky.

With that, the forms collapse to the ground and lay motionless again.

“That was easy,” Eltharion states, chuckling.

Grand decorations and trophies of war appear burned and looted.  Mannequins, racks, and glass cases are shattered and strewn upon the floor.  Great hooks hang from the ceiling, though most are empty or hold only burned lumps of grease and charred wood.  The layer of ash and soot reveals the destruction occurred some time ago.  A small fire burns near a great iron door across from the hall the Heroes entered from.  Several figures squat around the fire.  They bear the holy symbol of Vecna.

“Ho there converts.  I see you have you come to pledge yourself eternally to Vecna,” one of the figures says without getting up from the fire.

“That we have…” Bink says as they continue past them to the iron doors.

The next room has a scoreched path that leads directly away from the entrance toward another set of large doors.  Wide open spaces to the right and left are filled with an exceptional amount of debris, shrouded in shadows.  Fresh bloodstains paint the stone tile immediately in front of the door.  The Heroes move immediately for the next door.

Through the next door, the Heroes see two hallways leading off in diagonally separate directions.  Rubble chokes off both passages.  On the opposite side of the hallway is another set of doors; these are golden bronze.  The Heroes move on.

The next room stands out quite a bit.  Gargantuan forges and associated equipment lies in a shattered ring around the room’s periphery.  Furnaces, metal workbenches, hammers, tongs, and smaller equipment are equally bent, mangled, and melted together by some recent blast.  The blast apparently originated in the circular pit at the chamber’s center.  A spectral fire still continually burns there, lighting the entire chamber.

The center of the room also has a very wide spiral staircase that winds around the energy expulsion, leading underground.  The Heroes make a break for it, feeling strange magical energy pulling on them from the spectral fire.  They sprint down the stairs and enter a small passageway.

This passage is much different than the upper chambers.  Whereas the main Armory is burned and destroyed, this lower chamber is perfect and pristine, as if it was just carved.

The long hall is immaculately clean and peaceful, though it is backlit by residual light from the Forge.  Smooth marble pillars run the length of the hall, two by two.  Marble relief sculptures on the walls reveal various scenes.  Several living figures stand within the chamber, studying the images on the wall.

“Pilgrims!  Are you ready to face Vecna’s visage and become one with him?” a tiefling male asks.

“Yes.  Yes we are,” Eltharion replies.

“Good, I’m going with you, then,” the tiefling says, grabbing his sack and moving on with the party.  The Heroes move on to a doorway in the chamber, and enter the next room.

Exquisite marble tiles cover the entire chamber, save for one dark alcove.  Within the alcove is a silver pedestal holding a lamplike container, shining brightly.

The room seems familiar to the reliquaries where the Heroes found all their Vecnan relics.  As they approach this lamp, however, it contains a golden eye.

“Oh my, here it is… if I touch this, I may become a true follower of Vecna…” the tiefling touches the golden eye before anyone can stop him.

He falls to his knees, grunting in pain, holding onto his eye.  Then, he slowly stands.  His left eye is gone, replaced by gold.

The Heroes look at each other.

Bloodthorne cleaves off the man’s head.

“Let’s keep on movin’, we need to be getting’ to Vecna as soon as we can…” Bloothorne says.  The Heroes move on to the next doorway.

Can the Heroes stop Vecna before the end?  Is Dendybar going to show up at a very inopportune moment again?  Can the Heroes kill a God??  Find out more, next update!


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## sandtiger (Nov 4, 2004)

Hi,

I really do appreciate your writing style.  

I also thought to myself when the crowd was encouraging them to enter the Armory.  "Glad its them fools and not me"

I also almost spit out my coffee when reading:

---
The Heroes look at each other.

Bloodthorne cleaves off the man’s head.
---

Quick question.  Do you actually play "Bloodthorne" yourself, or does one of your players take over?

Second, why did you change your icon?  I really liked the droid in the "Egyptian Pose".

Thanks for writing this, even though I found my hands shaking  when I didn't see a post on Tuesday.

Sandtiger


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## Droid101 (Nov 4, 2004)

sandtiger said:
			
		

> Hi,
> 
> I really do appreciate your writing style.
> 
> ...



Glad you're getting some enjoyment out of this.

Bloodthorne is .... _(edited because it would give away my contest!   )_

Why'd I change my icon?  I don't know.  I was thinking about going back, but I can't find that picture anymore!


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## Droid101 (Nov 4, 2004)

“What?  ‘e might’ve alerted Vecna that we’re comin’!” Bloodthorne says in his own defense, as they move on into the next chamber.

“I didn’t say anything!” Grog exclaims.  “I was gonna do the same thing!”

Lush carpet woven of selkie-fur complements beautiful scenes painted on the most delicate of pale leather tapestries.  Figures carved f unicorn horns are arranged on small pedestals.  The gentle trickling sound of a miniature red waterfall fills the room.

“Is that… oh no…” Bink shakes his head upon inspecting one of the paintings very closely.

“What is it?” Eltharion asks.

“The canvasses are made of human skin,” Bink replies.  The Heroes move on.

The next room has green and orange pillows covering the floor.  Three humanoid figures are slumbering in various places around the room.  Each of them has golden left hands and golden left eyes.  The ceiling is covered with a net of small glowing points, lighting the chamber very subtly.  There is a glowing silver chalice on a pedestal.

Bloodthorne walks right up to it and takes a drink from it.

“Wait!” Bink says, but Bloodthorne already drank.

“I don’t feel nothing,” Bloodthorn responds, dropping the chalice on the floor, its contents spilling onto the pillows.

The Heroes enter the next room.  Fragrant haze, akin to the odor of cedar, billows and blows through this chamber, swirling in artificial currents of warm air.  The smoke is thick, but not thick enough to hide a central pit.  The pit is five feet in diameter, and is the source of the billowing vapors.  Low benches surround the central pit, upon which a few Vecnan disciples sit, swaying to some unheard tune.

“Quick, don’t inhale,” the Heroes hold their breath (except for Bloodthorne of course) and get through this room quickly.

The next room is a hallway that turns and leads to some finely carved marble doors.  Wall-covering tapestries sewn from massive black scaled hides drape this odd-shaped chamber.  The creature that these were sewn from must have been more than massive.

Three figures stand in front of the marble doors.  One appears to be a large and burly human, wearing bulky and rusted full plate armor, complete with full helm.  The other two are skeletal humanoids wearing rotting robes.

“To whom are you loyal?” a booming voice emanates from the rusted armor.

“Vecna?” Grog pipes in before Bink can.

“Proceed,” the figures move out of the way to present a path to the double doors.

The sound of voices raised in song is faintly audible as the Heroes approach the doors.  They open them.

The long hall is immaculately clean, and it echoes with psalms sung by a duet of two tonally pure voices.  Red light glares up through crack sin the marble tile on the floor.  The walls are blank, and the ceiling appears as dark basalt.  An alcove at either end of the long hall contains a carved marble figure.  One looks like a humanoid with only a hand for its head; the other is a humanoid with an eye for an head.  The music emanates from these carvings.

“Hey, kinda looks like that Hand guy we met back in Vecna’s tower,” Eltharion comments.  The Heroes move through the room and on to the next.

The door is locked, so Bink _knocks_ it.

This chamber is a beautifully appointed chapel.  Its domed heights create a peaceful gulf of space above the empty floor, and a dark altar dominates the far side of the room.  Hanging censers constantly burn in every corner, filling the chamber with a sweet, soothing odor.  Several sealed scrolls lie upon the altar.  Behind the alter, a 10-foot wide and 30-foot tall door stands closed.  The symbol of the hand and eye is inscribed in the center of the door.

“I guess this is it…” Bink says while picking up a couple of the scroll cases and stuffing them into his bags.

“Let’s go,” Eltharion pushes open the huge doors, which slide open easily.

Tiles of pure light pave the floor and walls of this heavenly chapel.  Pews of silver march toward the front of the chapel, where stands an altar of rose-hued crystal.  Several figures sit in the pews, and behind the altar, a large man in robes ministers to the assembled.  Two creatures stand at either end of the chamber.  They are identical to the singing statues from the room before; hand and eye instead of a head.

In the pews are some tieflings, githzerai, a green slaad, and a centaur-like creature.  The man preaching behind the altar is a terrible sight.  He has curling horns coming out of his head, and huge bat-like wings.  Like all the other people in the room, his left eye and left hand are made of pure gold.  However, unlike the others, his entire right arm and right leg are also made out of pure gold.  He is wearing plate armor.

“Sorry to interrupt your litt’le par’ty, but we’ve a bone to pick with your big bad true master and lord,” Bloodthorne brazenly steps forward.

“So tell us where he is and we’ll make sure you die quickly,” Bink’s eyes flash as his forceful presence takes over.  His robes begin to scintillate and glow with their rainbow colors.  The Heroes know not to look.

The half-demon from behind the altar pulls out a ashen looking bastard sword, and casts mirror image right away.

“Master, we have company…” the demon hisses.

The convex bulges of the wall behind the altar fades from opacity to transparency, revealing a massive cavity lined with hundres of small statuettes.  Within the cavity is a titanic humanoid, limned in brilliance.  Its left eye is missing from the socket, and its left hand is entirely gone as well.  The 30-foot tall skeletal creature steps forward, its right eye glowing with a red and brilliant rage.

“Kill them all!  Rip my holy relics from their profane bodies!” Vecna’s voice is like a thousand whispers, and it thunders about the large chapel.

Grog flashes out his brilliant Masamuné katana, and starts trembling into a rage.  Eltharion’s relic Moon-scimitar and Sun-sickle are out in a flash.  Bink fishes through his spell components as the colors begin to dance and move on his robes.  Balophan swings his longsword and shortsword, his front hooves stomping, ready to charge.  Ogrim readies his Orc-killer axe and _Staff of Defense_.  Bloodthorne singles out the slaad, pointing at it with his two heavily enchanted longswords.

And the room erupts into action.

It’s 12 against 6; and the 12 have a God-being.  Can the Heroes survive?  Do you smell TPK (total player kill)?  Would Bloodthorne want that?  Find out the exciting conclusion, next time!


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## the Jester (Nov 4, 2004)

Cool, now I'll finally know what happens in Die Vecna Die!


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## Droid101 (Nov 8, 2004)

Ogrim initiates a _shield of law _ around him, drops his staff and readies his shield.  Bink quickly casts _haste_ on himself, and then _haste_ again on Grog.

Grog screams and charges at the half-demon preacher, slashing into its side hard.

Bloodthorne saunters toward the slaad.

“You filthy piece of swamp-dwelling rubbish!” Bloodthorne exclaims.  The creature is shocked by the insult, and doesn’t move right away.  That affords Bloodthorne enough time to cut out its throat.

Balophan charges at the hand-headed creature, cutting deeply into it.  The hand-thing slaps him back with a strong palm, dazing him slightly.

Eltharion tumbles and runs directly at the golden-armed half-demon.  He slices into him with his Moon-scimitar.

“Let’s take him down!” Eltharion says.  His elation is cut short, however, as Vecna weaves a spell…

…and four meteors streak toward Bink and Ogrim.

They both close their eyes and grit their teeth, prepared to die…

…but they don’t.  As a matter of fact, they don’t feel a thing, not even an uncomfortable warmth.  The flames from the huge explosions wrap up around them harmlessly.

“What… happened...?” Ogrim asks hesitantly, but nobody affords him an answer.

The demon preacher slashes with his Ashblade, cutting deeply into Grog and Eltharion.  The blade itself exudes ash all around them.

Bink quickly casts _fly_ on himself and Ogrim.  Ogrim flies directly at Vecna, and takes up the ancient dwarven defending stance; twenty feet in the air!

“Moradin guide my axe!” and Ogrim strikes Vecna, his axe tearing into his dried flesh and bone.

Bloodthorne tumbles over to the githzerai and tiefling pilgrims, facing them head on, and doing his best to keep them away from Vecna and his preacher.

Grog and Eltharion strike at the gold-limbed demon-preacher with deadly precision.  After six seconds and a flurry of eleven attacks (four scimitar, three sickle, and four katana), the demon falls in a heap of sliced and ribboned flesh.

“You’re in trouble now…” Eltharion raises his gaze to Vecna’s.

Vecna responds by hasting himself and _true resurrecting _ his part-demon follower.

Grog and Eltharion’s jaws drop.

The preacher slashes violently with his Ashblade bastard sword again.  This time two powerful hits send Eltharion to his knees, and he is forced to retreat.

Ogrim slams into Vecna again.  Balophan slashes the hand-headed creature one final time and sends it down.

The eye-headed creature has been focusing on Grog for a while now, but to no noticeable effect.

Bink flies up, and with two _empowered fireballs_, the pilgrims fall hard.

“Thanks mate, but I think I could ‘andle ‘em myself,” Bloodthorne says, approaching the eye-headed thing.

Vecna’s huge form turns back to Ogrim, and swings with a powerful fist, colliding and knocking the wind out of him; but he stays afloat.

Eltharion falls back and heals himself, staying away from Vecna and the preacher.

Grog lays into the preacher once again, slicing him deeply several times.  The preacher retaliates, cutting into Grog, drawing several wounds that would be mortal ones to any normal person.

Bloodthorne slashes into the eye-creature, taking it down.

Eltharion charges back in, slashing into the preacher’s back, killing him a second time.

And so Vecna _true resurrects _ him a second time.  He also attempts to turn Bloodthorne, but to no effect.

“Is that all you’ve got?  Aint you a God??” Bloodthorne says.

The preacher slashes into Eltharion and Grog once again, and once again Eltharion is forced to fall back.

Ogrim cuts into Vecna again.  Balophan engages the bariaur – the otherworldly centaur-type creature.  They exchange blows.

Grog ignores the preacher completely, his rage building fast.  He steps toward Vecna, slashing again and again into his legs.

Bloothorne does the same.  Soon, everyone is surrounding Vecna.  Balophan continues to fight with the bariaur.

The preacher slashes into Grog’s back repeatedly.  Grog grits his teeth and continues to cut into Vecna’s legs.

Vecna tosses out another couple of powerful spells, a _prismatic spray _ and a _power word: kill_, but both have no effect.  He then resorts to melee, and slams into Ogrim a couple of times.  Ogrim sees stars, but stays stalwart.

The Heroes lay into Vecna hard.  After another few back-and-forth bouts, Vecna’s huge skeletal head lowers.

Grog reaches back as far as he can, and slashes toward Vecna…

…and cleaves right through his leg.

Vecna’s head jerks back, and his whispering voice streams from his mouth.

“You will pay… you mere… you…” Vecna never gets the chance to finish, as a swirling void of deep black and darkest gray energies springs up behind him, and sucks him most unceremoniously through.  An ear-popping wrench and bursh of blinding, multicolored lights sends everyone to their knees.

When their vision returns, Eltharion spots the preacher flying at full speed out of the chapel, too far to follow.  The bariaur is on the ground, writing in agony, as its gold hand and eye are gone.  Only a bloody stump and socket remain.

All the corpses of the gith and tiefling pilgrims are similarly missing their golden hands and eyes.

The walls of the chapel start to bend and break.

“Time to go…” Bink quickly casts _fly_ on everyone, and they fly out of the Armory at fully speed.

The Heroes emerge from the Armory, and a huge cheer erupts from the army surrounding the place.  The walls continue to sag, and Vecna’s holy symbol fades off the front of the building.  The smoke starts to clear, and the Armory collapses under its own weight.

“Maybe next time…” Bloodthorne mutters.

“What was that?” Eltharion asks.

“Nothing mate, nothing.”

The Heroes fly toward the lady and her floating minions.  As they approach, they are already crafting a floating-glyph message.

_Life is in your debt, as is Sigil.  No reward could ever be sufficient.  But Sigil does not forget its friends.  Thus, accept these gifts.

The first is a promise from the Lady of Pain that Vecna, the Failed God, will be denied his vengeance on you, even should you dispose of his protective relics.

The second is a key to the City of Doors, which will turn any bounded space into a portal to Sigil, though it will do so only three times.

The last is the deed for permanent accommodations in Sigil, which you may use whenever you find yourself in the city.  In your absence, these accommodations will be maintained for you._

The floating figures immediately turn and escort the Lady of Pain away.  A messenger halfling gives the Heroes a note with the deed and address of their new property.

“Your Key will be delivered to your accommodations when you arrive,” the halfling leaves.

“Wow… a house in Sigil, that’s pretty good!” Eltharion exclaims.

“Time to relax,” Balophan reasons.

“Agreed.  First, let’s get rid of these relics,” Bink and the Heroes head toward the address listed on the paper.

They find a huge four-story building near the main market square.

“Wow… this is even bigger than I thought it would be…” Eltharion is amazed.  The Heroes head in.

Another grisly scene of self-mutilation later, and the Heroes have removed all of their profane relics.  Bink, with his Vecnan molar still in place, summarily eats all of the relics (except the _Hand_, which must be destroyed some other way, it seems).  Bink then removes the molar, and puts it and the _Hand_ in a safe place.

“We’ll destroy these ones later,” Bink says.  “It’s time to party.”


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## Sandain (Nov 8, 2004)

Woohoo! well done to your party!


----------



## Droid101 (Nov 9, 2004)

Thus ends Part 3: The Dark Tides Realized

And Part 4 begins: The Last Stand Against Evil

“Another round for the Heroes!” a voice calls out from the back of the packed bar.  A cheer rings out and everyone takes a drink of whatever they have in hand.

“God vanquishers!  Oh powerful ones!”

“Ye’ve done it!  Sigil is saved!”

“Nay, the multiverse is saved!”

“Three more cheers!”

The festivities rage on through the night.

“Can I buy a round for the mighty Heroes?” Bink hears a familiar deep voice from behind him.

“Blaze!” Eltharion calls out, giving his friend a hug.

“Hey, I heard all about what you’ve done here,” Blaze replies.

“Nekky?” Eltharion spots The Necromancer standing behind Blaze.

“What did I… ah nevermind,” The Necromancer starts to respond.  “How are you all?”

“Great, as you can see,” Bink says.  Everyone exchanges greetings.

“You don’t look great…” Blaze points to various missing fingers and Grog’s missing hand.

“Oh that…” Bink chuckles.  “We were actually waiting for someone to help regenerate those for us…”

“I’ll tend to it in the morning,” Blaze says.

“So, what are you doing here?” Bink asks.

“Necromancer and I arrived at Brunswick about the same time.  I had gone to the Adventurer’s Guildhall to meet up with my brother, Blaine.  We met, and went on to Baron to check up on things.  We saw Ogrim there, but then he left.

“After a while, I got a message from Adlai saying some ore had been stolen, so I came to help,” Blaze explains.  “I have some bad news, as well…”

“What is it?” Grog asks.

“Ogrim… your father stayed behind, fulfilling his sacred duty as a dwarven defender, when the halls were being overrun with the dark elves.  He was the last line of defense while the rest of the stronghold escaped,” Blaze pauses, taking a deep breath.  “He never made it out.”

Ogrim lowers his head.

“Moradin guide me…”

“I’m sorry,” Blaze adds.

“What about you, Nekky?” Eltharion asks The Necromancer.

“Well, Grog, Jezda, Trek-Donal and I were teleported to the giant island,” The Necromancer starts.  “We waited about an hour for the rest of you to show up, but you never did, so we went into the stronghold by ourselves.

“Bad move.  We were captured after I had pretty much run out of spells.  They took Grog and Jezda away, and Trek and I were taken to an ‘alternate location.’  Some other stronghold in a volcano.

“They had us separated, I had no idea where he was.  Since I didn’t have my spellbooks, I couldn’t prepare any new spells.  All I had was a teleport ready.  So I waited as long as I could to hope they put Trek and I in the same cell so we could teleport out together, but it never happened.”

“So Trek is still over there?” Bink asks.

“I think so,” The Necromancer answers.

“Damaré and Jezda actually set out before we came through all this Vecna nonsense.  They went to the giant strongholds in search of you and Trek.  They weren’t going to give up on you just yet,” Eltharion says.

“I hope they find him,” The Necromancer replies.

“I think I’m done for the evening.  Meet up at our new headquarters, we’ve got some research about adamantium, Rigus, and some big metal cats to do,” Bink says.

…………

“Listen, I’ve just come through hell and worse to get to some kind of semblance of society, so I could relax.  You’re not spoiling that,” Dendybar says, his longsword and dagger are out in a flash.

“You would do well to stand down, human…” the creature’s golden right arm and leg glint in the artificial light of the alley.  His bastard sword raining a cloud of ash.  “A goblin and an elf have just crossed me, and I’m looking for someone to vent my frustrations upon…”

“Did you say ‘goblin and elf?’  Did the elf use a scimitar and a sickle?  Did the goblin have a katana blade?” Dendybar’s weapons drop to his sides; a lapse that was rare from him.

“Well… yes.  Are you their ally?” the half-fiend’s right eye glares; his left eye motionless gold.

“Far from it.  What say you to a treaty?  I know their habits, their ways.  I know where they are from.  I know where they sleep at night.  Join me…” Dendybar’s words are like gospel to the fallen preacher.

“My name is Ely Cromlich of Vecna.”

”Dendybar Retari.  Now let’s go hunting.”

…………….

The next day, everyone is kept quite busy.

Eltharion, Grog and Bloodthorne start interviewing candidates for the position of seneschal for their house while they are away.

Balophan bids the Heroes good-bye.  He explains that he must return to his tribe to tell them the good news.

Blaze regenerates everybody’s missing body parts (Bloodthorne’s foot grew back by itself).

Bink and Ogrim head into the market square to get information about a portal to Rigus or anything about any big metal cats.

Ogrim searches specifically for a portal.  Before the end of the day, he thinks he has a lead.

Bink asks around to see if any major players have come to town.

“I’ve heard of someone.  How about, you give me a gold, and I’ll arrange a meeting between you and him later today, here in market square,” a filthy looking street urchin chirps up.

“I’ll give you one gold now, and two after the meeting, how’s that?” Bink replies.

“Done!” the urchin snatches up the gold and runs off.

Bink returns to their headquarters.

“Bloodthorne, come with me, I’m meeting some major player, and I want you to watch my back,” Bink says.

“Eltharion, you keep on inte’viewin’ the candidates.  I’ll be back in a jiff,” Bloodthorne goes off with Bink to the market square.

“Stay hidden,” Bink says.  Bloodthorne starts skipping around the market square while Bink approaches the meeting spot.

A figure walks toward him, one that becomes familiar right away.

Dendybar.

Bink’s lips slowly curl into a smirk as he notices the long scar running across Dendybar’s right eye.

“It’s… it’s you.  I had no idea,” Dendybar says, shaking his head.

“Looks like you’ve fared better,” Bink motions to the scar.

“I’ve been through more than you can imagine.  Now where’s the elf?  I need to pay him back,” Dendybar asks.

“We’re staying at that inn over there,” Bink points to the inn that they are actually staying at.

“Thanks.  I’ll be sure to pay your friend a visit tonight.  I don’t have any trouble with you… just him… for sending me… to that damned hell…” Dendybar gets reminiscent, so Bink cuts the meeting short.

“I’m off.  Good luck with that revenge thing.  You’ll need it,” Bink flares his rainbow robe as he walks away.

 “ ‘ow did the meeting go?  ‘oo was that?” Bloodthorne asks.

“Old… friend.  Don’t worry about him, he’s harmless,” Bink chuckles.

The Heroes meet up at their new under-construction headquarters that night.

“The contractors are going to build a whole new floor plan inside.  And we’ve narrowed down the interviews for the seneschal, too,” Eltharion reports.

“Good.  What did you find today, Ogrim?” Bink asks.

“I found a portal to Rigus.  We should be able to go there tomorrow, and find out what happened to the adamantium shipment that Adlai was supposed to receive for Brunswick,” Ogrim says.

“Hey, Bink, Adlai said he had something for you.  Take the portal back to Brunswick tonight and ask him about it,” The Necromancer says.

“Okay.  Tomorrow, we head to Rigus.  See you all then,” Bink says.  The Necromancer leads him to the staircase leading down to the portal.  Bink goes through, and ends up in the Oubliette of the castle.

“Convenient,” Bink remarks as he walks up the staircase that winds around the large circular chamber.  He quickly finds Adlai in the main hall, sitting on the throne, pondering.

“Bink!  How are you?” Adlai asks.

“Good.  The Necromancer said you had something for me?” Bink replies.

“Oh, yes, when we were cleaning the body of the king after you got that lich’s spirit out, we claimed his items.  All of them went to the king’s treasury, but I remember hearing that you were searching for some mystical tome, to pay back someone who helped you learn magic?  Did I hear right?” Adlai wonders.

“Oh, he had it?  That’s good.  I need to return it to Indiffines.  Can I check the library?” Bink asks.

“Sure, I’ll show you to the book, as well,” Adlai answers.

Bink gets the large tome and sets down in the library to research.  After a few hours, he finds the name.

“Indiffines the Wretched… General of the Second…” Bink reads aloud.  “Looks like I’m going to Hell.”

Is Bink going to Hell?  Can the Heroes retrieve the adamantium?  Who will run their headquarters while they are out of town?  Find out next time!


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## the Jester (Nov 9, 2004)

I love Bink's reaction to Dendybar...


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## Droid101 (Nov 9, 2004)

Current levels/stats for the characters.

*Eltharion Ulthuan* - Elf Ranger 5 / Druid 5 / Ancestral Avenger 7. S18* D24* C10 I13 W15* Ch12. 

*Ogrim Oakenshield* - Dwarf Fighter 8 / Cleric of Moradin 1 / Dwarven Defender 8. S18 D14 C22* I13 W15 Ch12. 

*Bink the Sorcerer * - Human Sorcerer 7 / Wizard 2 / Eldritch Master 8. S15 D16* C16* I15 W14 Ch22*. 

*Grog of Grumbar* - Goblin Barbarian 17. S20 D18* C16 I10 W16 Ch9. 

*Bloodthorne* - Curst Human Rogue 11 / Urostifter 3. S18 D18 C0 I18 W16 Ch16. 

*The Necromancer* - Human Wizard (Necromancer) 16.  S10 D14 C13* I22 W16 Ch12.

*Blaze Brague* - Human Cleric 8 / Mighty Contender of Tempus 8.  S24 D12 C17 I14 W18* Ch12.


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## Droid101 (Nov 10, 2004)

That night, Bloodthorne was up on the roof of the inn everyone was sleeping at.  He never slept, so generally he kept watch.

A figure climbed up the wall and hopped up onto the roof, walking over and looking down over another edge of the building.  He had blonde hair and fair skin.  He carried a longsword and a dagger…

Bloodthorne approached him.

“ ‘ello mate, ‘ow are you?” Bloodthorne’s blades were out in a flash, before the man could respond.  A deep slash to the stomach had the man grimacing in pain.  The man cursed and jumped off the roof.  On the way down, he uttered an arcane phrase and vanished.

“That was easy.”

The Heroes gathered at their under-construction headquarters in the morning.

“Are we ready?” Grog asks, feeling his own flesh and blood hand attached for the first time in a couple of days.

“Waiting for Bink to get back from the castle, then we leave for Rigus,” Ogrim says.

Eltharion gets a message in his head.

Bink returning book to mentor, find adamantium without him.  Good luck.

“Looks like we can leave now, I just got a message from Adlai saying that Bink isn’t coming with us,” Eltharion tells the others.

“All right, let’s get going then,” Blaze says.

Eltharion and Bloodthorne summon the candidate they picked out to head their household in Sigil.  A dwarven jack-of-all-trades named Bellamy Bill.

“All right mate, yer workin’ for us now,” Bloodthorne says.

“I’ll leave you with 500 gold.  Make sure you help the carpenters whenever you can.  We left a big safe in the basement with some of our valuables.  Watch over those as well,” Eltharion explains.

“Don’t worry, leave it to me.  This place’ll be tip top when you return,” Bellamy Bill responds.

Ogrim, Grog, Blaze, Bloodthorne, Eltharion and The Necromancer head out into the city of Sigil.  They soon come to the portal that Ogrim had found out about.

“This is the portal to Rigus.  This is where Adlai ordered the adamantium.  From a merchant named Gev’jin,” Ogrim explains.

As they are about to step through the portal, a huge shining form drops onto Ogrim from above.  Its metal claws and teeth dig into him.

The thing is a 10-foot long metal catlike creature.  Blaze immediately slams into it with his axe, but to no effect.  Eltharion fares better; his blades cutting into the thing easily.  The Necromancer backs off.

Bloodthorne flies upward and out of sight, singing a children’s fairy tale song.

“What the heck is he doing!?” Eltharion calls out.  Grog slices into the cat as well, his blade quite effective.

Ogrim wrestles the cat off him and gets up.  His axe doesn’t affect the thing either.  It was larger than the one he had fought by himself in Brunswick.

Blaze enchants his axe with a greater magic weapon and moves into position.  The Heroes surround and take the thing down without further complication.

“Those things are tough… I hope there aren’t too many more of those…” Eltharion says.  Bloodthorne comes flying back.

“Let’s get movin’!” Bloodthorne says, walking through the portal.

“I think he’s a little… spacey,” The Necromancer says, studying Bloodthorne carefully.

They all step through the portal.  The city of Rigus is clean and perfect.  All the buildings are perfectly squared off.  All the streets turn perfect 90 degree turns.  Everything is like clockwork.

“Halt, visitors from Sigil.  Please peace bond your weapons,” a pair of ornately dressed guards approach.

“Anything you say,” Eltharion comments, and the Heroes oblige.

“Please wear these until you have left the city,” the guards give them each a small wooden tag that they wear around their necks.  “These identify you as visitors at all times in Rigus.  Please, go about your business.”

“A stuffy lot,” Bloodthorne states.

“Hold on, do you know where a merchant named Gev’jin is?” Ogrim asks a guard.

“Yes, please head down this street and turn left on 3rd street.  It should be on the right side,” the guard responds quickly and crisply.

The Heroes head there, and knock on a door.  The building looks like all the others; square and perfectly straight.

A squat looking red-scaled lizard creature standing on two legs opens the door.

“What is your business?” the thing hisses.

“We’re looking for Gev’jin,” Ogrim says.

“He’s not here.  Wait outside until he gets back,” the lizard closes the door with a hard slam.

“That was rude,” Blaze says, brushing a hand through his loose blonde hair.

The Heroes sit down on the steps leading up to the doorway and wait.

After at least an hour of waiting (and Bloodthorne skipping off more than once) a large creature riding an even larger red-skinned lizard-looking thing approaches.

“Who are you?” the almost red-skinned 8-foot tall humanoid riding the lizard asks the Heroes as he approaches the stairs.

“I am Ogrim Oakenshield.  I am here on behalf of Adlai Stormseal of Brunswick.  We are here to inquire about a shipment of adamntium he ordered from Gev’jin the merchant,” Ogrim says.

“I am Gev’jin.  And that shipment was sent.  If he didn’t receive it that’s not my fault.  Now get out of my way,” Gev’jin says haughtily as he tries to maneuver his lizard past the Heroes and into his house.

“Wait a minute, can we ask you a couple of questions at least?” Eltharion asks.

“Uh!  Fine!  You’ve already wasted my time, why not waste some more,” Gev’jin’s small white horns protruding from his head glint in the light.

“Have you heard anything about missing shipments lately, other than this one?” Eltharion asks.

“No, I haven’t heard anything, now leave,” Gev’jin is clearly impatient.

“Can we have a refund for the adamantium, then?” Eltharion pushes on.

“No, and you can quote me.  Now leave!” Gev’jin ends the conversation.

“Are you sure?  Any big metal cats?” Eltharion prods.

“… metal cats…  All right, all right.  If you promise to stop those damned metal cats from killing my workers, I’ll tell you what I know,” Gev’jin concedes.

“Done; we’ve already killed two of them,” Ogrim puts in.

“Okay.  Yours is not the only shipment that has been intercepted.  All my metal shipments, whether it be mithril, adamantium, obdurium or another, have been intercepted.  The delivery men are killed.  Any who survive speak of giant metal cats.

“I have looked into the matter, and have found that these cats are coming from a certain portal here in Rigus.  A portal that leads to the plane of Archeron, out near the abandoned warehouse at the end of this street.  But that’s all I know,” Gev’jin says.

“So if we can stop this from happening, you’ll give us a refund?” Eltharion asks.

“No.  Good day,” Gev’jin finally maneuvers himself into his house and slams the door shut.

“Fine, we don’t need his money.  If we find who is taking the adamantium, then we’ll have plenty for Adlai to use,” Eltharion grumbles.

“All right, let’s find this portal to Archeron,” Blaze says, and the Heroes start down the street.

Can the Heroes find the adamantium?  Are the dark elves really planning on attacking Brunswick?  How much time do they have?  Find out all this and more, next update.


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## Droid101 (Nov 10, 2004)

the Jester said:
			
		

> I love Bink's reaction to Dendybar...



Haha, yeah, I thought that was quite funny myself.  I half thought Bink'd start a fight right there.  But I guess he had no beef.  <shrug>


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## Droid101 (Nov 10, 2004)

*Interlude the Fourth…*

Joseph Blackshield stays perfectly still in the tree.  His blade and shield at the ready.  His steely resolve holding him perfectly still while he waits for the green dragon, Drelhornsdrathdin.

All his calculations come crashing down in an instant.  Where he thought the dragon would be coming from below, he was above.  Where he thought the dragon would be leading with acid breath, it was leading with a lightning bolt.  Where he thought the dragon would fall to his blade, he fell to the dragon’s claw.


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## Droid101 (Nov 12, 2004)

At the bottom of the long stairwell, a huge archway made of various bones sat.  There was a red glowing portal inside the arch.

“So this leads to Archeron?  Ever been there?” Eltharion asks.

“No, but I know about it.  A bunch of metal cubes floating around.  Supposed to be pretty dangerous,” The Necromancer replies.

The Heroes step through the portal.  As soon as they arrive on the other side, they bump into a huge, over 20-foot wide spider, with a female dark elf riding it.  She rears it back as the Heroes jump to the ready.

“I don’t have any issue with you, let me pass and nobody gets hurt…” the female elf hisses.

The Heroes all have to grab onto Eltharion to stop him from charging the spider-riding drow.

“Despite what it… looks like… we don’t want to fight either…” Blaze manages to say while holding onto one of Eltharion’s arms.

“Speak for yourself,” Eltharion doesn’t relent; he continues to try to pull out his sickle and scimitar.

The terrain around them is bare.  A sheet of steel, it seems like.  Nothing can be seen for miles around.  The sky is gray, with no sun.  Only specks of bluish-silver dot the horizon.

“We’re just looking for some metal cats, have you seen any?” The Necromancer asks, as he’s not busy wrestling Eltharion.

“Over the past few days I’ve seen far too many of those damned things,” the elf responds, sensing that a little diplomacy may get her out of Archeron without a fight.

“Oh?  Where?” The Necromancer asks.

“I just had a meeting with this would-be emperor.  He’s gathering power here to launch attacks on other planes, and eventually try to take over.  Trying to re-forge some great blade of legend.

“I grew bored with his ideas, and his peace offer was less than sub-par,” the elf explains.

“So… he wanted to ally with you so he could take over a plane?” The Necromancer presses.

“He thinks he can take over Aldor-Valencia with the help of the dark elves.  I surmised that his little band couldn’t help us in our undertaking, so I denied him.  I don’t really care what happens to him in the least.  His name is Imperagon,” the dark elf says.  “Now, if you don’t mind…”

“Sure, but where is Imperagon’s stronghold?” The Necromancer asks.

“There,” she points to a cube of metal floating far off in the sky.  With that, she motions her spider to move, and they head around the Heroes and into the portal.

“Let her go…” The Necromancer says.

“Did you hear her?  She said something about taking over Aldor-Valencia.  The dark elves are planning something!” Eltharion protests.

“We’ll deal with that when after we get the adamantium,” Ogrim reasons.

“So how do we get out there?” Grog asks.

“I have a spell that can get us moving pretty fast, but it might run out before we get there.  I’m not sure how far that is,” Blaze says.

“I can cast fly on everyone after that spell runs out, and we can fly the rest of the way,” The Necromancer adds.

“All right, let’s do it,” Blaze sits down and prays for a _wind walk _ spell.  The Necromancer leafs through his spellbooks.

After about fifteen minutes, the Heroes are incorporeal and flying at incredible speed toward the distant cube.  After over 12 hours of flight, they huddle together.  The spell ends, and they become corporeal again, and start to fall toward the cube at a high speed.  The Necromancer quickly casts _fly_ on everyone while falling, and soon everyone is able to float down without harm.

They look back into the sky and see the cube they came from is nothing but a small speck in the distance.

“Do you remember how to get back?” Eltharion asks Blaze and The Necromancer.

“I can teleport us back, don’t worry,” The Necromancer reassures him.

After a long float down, they finally hit the metal cube.

“Well, I guess we just start a sweep until we find a stronghold,” Ogrim says, and they start to walk.

After about three hours of walking, they reach an edge of the cube.

“Uh, so do we fall if we step off?” Eltharion looks down over the edge.

The Necromancer gets another _fly_ spell ready and steps off.  A head-spinning transition, and he’s standing upright on the side of the metal cliff.

“Not to be childish… but that was fun!” The Necromancer steps back to their side of the cube.  He then jumps off the ledge, landing on his back on the other cube face.  He can’t stop laughing.  Bloodthorne starts to wander off.

“All right, let’s go,” Eltharion says, and everyone makes the transition to the other cube face, and they continue to walk.  Bloodthorne floats above them.

“He’s acting weird again…” The Necromancer whispers to Eltharion.

“I think his curse is getting to him…” Eltharion whispers back, not knowing the specifics, but knowing that Bloodthorne is living forever against his will.

The Heroes spot something up ahead in the distance.  Seems like a few figures moving.  The Heroes charge forward.

They approach a battle.  Looks like two humans fighting against four or five strange five foot tall ant-like creatures standing upright.  The humans are laughing maniacally as they slash their greatswords back and forth, killing another one of the creatures.

The Necromancer fires off a warning volley of _magic missiles _ into one of the humans.  At that instant, the humans transform into frog-like creatures.  One of them red and one black.

“Slaad; kill ‘em,” The Necromancer chuckles.  The Heroes charge.

“TEMPUS!!” Blaze bellows as his armor creaks and grinds; his strength increasing exponentially.  He runs toward the black one, and with a single overhead two handed chop, the slaad’s shoulder, ribcage and spinal cord are shattered beyond all recognition.

Eltharion, Bloodthorne and Grog overwhelm and quickly finish off the red one.

The ant-things stay on guard, when the largest of them steps forward.

_You saved us.  We are in your debt._  A voice in the Heroes’ heads rings.

“You were in trouble, so we helped,” Eltharion replies.

_And so you shall be rewarded.  Return with us to our complex and you shall have shelter._

“Sounds good to me,” Blaze says.  “Which way?”

The formian approaches the Heroes, and motions them to gather close together.  In a flash, they are gone and in a new location.  A large mound of metal has been dug out, and several tunnels can be seen going into the cube.

_Come this way to meet the queen._

How will this alliance pan out?  What are the dark elves up to?  Who the heck is Imperagon, and why does he think he can take over the world?


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## Droid101 (Nov 12, 2004)

Okay okay, I know... what's the deal, right?  How did Dendybar survive the blast from that futuristic laser-gun thing Eltharion used?

Simple: it's not a laser.  It was a phase-fluctuation mass of energy.  The effect of the blast is to send whatever it hit out of phase with their current plane of existence (effectively getting rid of them).

In game terms, it sent Dendybar into the Astral plane, which summarily shunted him out into a random outer plane (rolled up by me).  I rolled Carceri, so Carceri is where he went.  Hey, it could've been better, but then again, it could have been worse.

Once again, another cordial thanks to those who are reading.  As you can maybe tell, the story hour started off sort of in "Summary Mode," and as I got more and more caught up to the current time, I was able to remember so much more, that it could be way more narrative and fun.  The farther along I get, the better it gets, so thanks to everyone who has stuck around thus far.  Hopefully it'll catch on with more people.


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## Hairy Minotaur (Nov 12, 2004)

Great story hour, and you're right it is getting more detailed.   

Good to see a party pick their fights well, my group would've rushed the mounted drow and then taken on both the slaad and formorians.


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## Sandain (Nov 14, 2004)

Yay! thanks for the updates.


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## Droid101 (Nov 15, 2004)

Hairy Minotaur said:
			
		

> Great story hour, and you're right it is getting more detailed.
> 
> Good to see a party pick their fights well, my group would've rushed the mounted drow and then taken on both the slaad and formorians.



Thanks!

And yeah, I know what you mean.  I was surprised to see them show restraint for once, actually.


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## Droid101 (Nov 15, 2004)

The large, bloated, ant-like formian queen lay before them in an empty chamber.  Two smaller formians tend to her.

_These people saved our expansion team.  They seek shelter. _  The mental “voice” of the formian calls out to the queen and the Heroes.

_Why have you come to this cube of Archeron? _  The queen asks the Heroes.

“We are here searching for some metal cats who stole something from us,” The Necromancer steps forward to answer.

_We are aware of the presense of these metal cats.  If you defeat them, you may use him as a guide, and our complex as shelter as long as you are on this cube._  The queen sets the proposition.

“We accept,” Eltharion chimes in.

The Heroes are led to some empty dug-out metal rooms.  Without any real padding, the rooms are quite uncomfortable, but they take their rest anyway.

The next day, their guide wakes them.

_Are you ready to go?_

“Yes, we heard about some stronghold somewhere on this cube.  Can you take us there?” Blaze asks.

_I know of this place.  I shall take you there._  The formian gathers everyone in close.  The Necromancer takes one last survey of his quarters, so he’d be able to teleport everyone back after they were done.  In a flash, they are in front of a huge iron fortress, seemingly built right out of the metal of the cube itself.

_Good luck to you. _  And the formian vanishes.

“Doesn’t look so big,” Grog says, and just as he does so, a huge metal cat pounces on top of him from behind a jutting of iron.  A 12 foot tall humanoid made of iron, with blades instead of arms, charges at them from the doorway of the fortress.

The Necromancer casts _haste_ on himself and Blaze.  Blaze casts _greater magic weapon_ on his and Ogrim’s axes.  Ogrim casts _shield of law _ from his _staff of defense _ and readies himself.  Eltharion flashes out his Sun-sickle and Moon-scimitar, and slashes into the great iron cat, pushing it off Grog.  Grog hops up and cuts into the thing with his razor-sharp Murasamé katana.

The blade-armed iron golem closes and slams into Blaze with the flat of a blade, knocking him back and drawing a deep bruise.

The cat claws and bites into Grog, who isn’t able to dodge out of the way.  Three brutal hits bring Grog to his knees, but he stands back up in an instant.

“TEMPUS!!” Blaze calls out, his muscles swelling and growing.  He launches himself at the iron golem and slams into it three times – hard.  The huge golem staggers backward, losing its balance.  Ogrim steps up and slams into the thing with his axe as well, knocking it over completely.

The Necromancer casts _fly_ on himself, and launches a _lightning bolt _ at the cat.  It seems to deflect off its metal hide, doing no damage.

Grog and Eltharion flank the cat, striking in unison, and adding deep cuts all over the metal hide.  Greenish black blood seeps from each wound.

“Bloodthorne, help us!” Blaze calls out as he jumps atop the prone golem, slamming his axe into its face.  Ogrim chops down into its bladed arm, trying to separate it from its body.

Bloodthorne is flying in circles overhead, as if he didn’t even know combat was going on around him.

A few seconds later, the metal monsters are not moving.  Grog and Eltharion are severely injured from the tough metal cat.

Blaze heals himself up with a few spells, and heals Grog and Eltharion as well.

Bloodthorne finally lands.

“What was that all about?  We could have used your help,” Blaze says.

“What was what now?  Let’s get going into the fortress.  I’m sure there’s treasure to be ‘ad,” Bloodthorne seems oblivious.

“Insane…” The Necromancer mutters under his breath.  The Heroes head into the iron fortress.

Is Bloodthorne crazy?  Imperagon; metal cats; adamantium; what’s the connection?  Find out next time.


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## Droid101 (Nov 17, 2004)

Blaze pushes open the huge metal doors with another quick boost of strength.  The inside of the fortress is much the same as the outside.  Bare iron halls, iron doors, iron floors.  It’s extremely noisy in there, the sound of hammers hitting steel reverberates, and the roar of a large fire seems to echo in the halls.

The Heroes go into the first room they see.  A strange chain-covered humanoid and a smaller imp-looking creature seem to be torturing a lillend; a winged anel with a snake’s tail instead of legs.

The Heroes rush in immediately.  The noise of the fortress masks their entrance, and they are able to sneak up and dispatch the creatures without much effort.  They free the lillend.

“Thank you for your help,” the creature says.

“You’re welcome, why were you here?” The Necromancer asks.

“Those two monsters kidnapped me and brought me here to fulfill their evil fantasies,” she responds.

“You’re free to go now, there should be an open path to the exit of the fortress,” Eltharion says.

“Thank you,” and she flies off.

The Heroes exit that room and proceed cautiously toward the next.

This next room has hanging cloth here and there to give it a more closed in feel.  A voice is heard in their minds.

_We don’t want anything else, leave us._  A mind flayer steps out from behind a cloth.  It is startled when it actually sees the Heroes, and it steps back.  Another mind flayer is seen, and a minotaur steps forward in front of them.  Its eyes are glazed over, but it is at the ready.

“We’re not here to fight you… do you know anything about any adamantium?” Eltharion asks.

_Imperagon is gathering it.  Using it to rebuild his puny weapon to use it to conquer.  His ideas are stale and we have no use for him. _   The voice responds.

“Man, this guy can’t keep any allies…” The Necrmancer chuckles.

“We shall leave you then, we have no business with you,” Blaze says.  The illithid nods.  The Heroes leave.

They go up a flight of stairs.  Two rooms up here have nobody in them, but are more heavily decorated.  The Heroes plunder an item or two.

The next room they go in has several exotic weapons hanging from the walls, and the floor is covered in a thin wooden mat.  A black-skinned dwarf is sitting cross-legged in the center of the room.  As the Heroes enter, her head jerks up and she jumps to her feet immediately.  She has a shaved head.

“I didn’t know there were dwarf females,” The Necromancer quips, and draws a grunt of disagreement from Ogrim.

The dwarf takes up a fighting pose, so Eltharion, Grog, Ogrim and Blaze charge.  Bloodthorne is still rummaging through the other rooms.  The Necromancer watches with a wry smile.

The duergar moves with exceptional speed, and as the Heroes close in, she takes up the ancient dwarven defensive stance.

“Nice,” Ogrim notes, as he swings his axe at her.  She ducks.

Her hands and legs fly out at every different angle.  She sweep kicks, tripping Grog, Ogrim, and Blaze; each of them hitting their head on the way down hard.  Two more attacks hit pressure points on Eltharion and Grog, and they are both stunned.

“She’s winning!” The Necromancer calls out from behind them.

Ogrim and Blaze hop up and strike at her again.  This time she is unable to dodge, and takes two axe cuts to her forearms.

She launches another flurry, stunning and tripping Ogrim and Blaze.  Grog and Eltharion get feeling back in their extremities and strike her.  She parries best she can, but takes another couple of slashes.

She concentrates for a moment, and some of her wounds seem to close up.

“Damned duergar!” Ogrim grunts from the floor.  He doesn’t bother to get up, and swings his axe four times from his prone position.  The fourth cut brings her to one knee.

And Grog finishes her with an overhead chop to the upper back.  She falls into a pool of her own blood.  The Heroes look at each other in disbelief.

“She just took on all four of us,” Blaze says, rubbing the back of his head.

“Not bad,” Eltharion says.

Blaze heals everyone, and he’s out of spells.  They move on to the next room.  However, before they get to it, the door opens a fair blonde woman comes out, with light skin and beautiful eyes…

…and is summarily turned to stone.

The party spins around to look at The Necromancer, who is still holding out his hand after casting _flesh to stone_.

“Why’d you do that?” Eltharion asks.

“Did you see her eyes?  Nobody that beautiful is going to be in an evil fortress in the middle of an evil plane without being a prisoner.  She had to have been evil,” The Necromancer reasons.  Everybody shrugs.  Ogrim pushes over the statue and watches it smash into hundreds of small shards of stone that scatter across the iron floor.

The Heroes head back downstairs to see the last two rooms they didn’t visit.  They go in one and see piles of iron shrapnel all over the place.  In one pile a metal cat is laying.  As soon as the Heroes enter, it leaps up.  It seems larger than the others they fought.

The Necromancer immediately casts _forcecage_ and traps it inside an invisible box of force.

“Good work, how long will that hold him?” Eltharion asks.

“Probably for about 15 hours or more,” The Necromancer guesses.

“Let’s go then,” Blaze goes to open the next door in here, but it is hot to the touch.  “Door’s hot.  Let’s go back to the other room first.”

The Heroes head back to the last door on the first floor they haven’t been in.

“I told you not to bother me, and I told you what would happen if you did!” a voice calls out as Blaze pushes the door open.  A huge blade cuts down and nearly severs Blaze’s arm, but he jumped back enough to lessen the damage.  A 15 foot tall fire giant is wielding a huge greatsword.  From behind him, two 10 foot long red lizards leap to the attack, each of them drawing a hit on Blaze.

Blaze pulls out his axe and strikes at the giant, chopping down into its foot.  It jumps in pain, and growls all the louder.

Eltharion and Ogrim take one lizard, and Bloodthorne and Grog take the other.  Blaze takes the giant alone.

The giant hits Blaze a couple more times, and he feels his world spinning.  Several heavily bleeding injuries send him to one knee.

The Necromancer sees his friend in need, and searches through his head for the proper spell to solve the situation.

He casts _magic jar _ on the giant.

The Necromancer’s body falls limp, and the fire giant’s eyes take on The Necromancer’s evil gleam.

Bloodthorne finishes off the first lizard with a precise strike to the back of the head, piercing its spinal column.  Eltharion and Ogrim have damaged the other lizard.  A huge greatsword from the fire giant finishes it.

“Nekky, is that you?” Eltharion asks up at the fire giant.

“Yes, and what did I tell you about that?” the fire giant’s deep voice takes on a few of The Necromancer’s sarcastic undertones.

“Good job Nek,” Eltharion responds.

Blaze is breathing heavily, but has bandaged up his wounds somewhat.

“We need to make a tactial retreat.  I need to be able to heal myself if we’re going to face this Imperagon guy,” Blaze manages to say.

“Okay, first, let me go through all the rooms we trashed, and hack everything to pieces in this fire giant body.  That way, Imperagon will think that this guy is the one who did it.  Maybe they’ll think he went crazy or something,” The Necromancer says.

“Good plan, get to it,” Ogrim states.

The fire giant runs down the hall, hacking at the walls, leaving huge greatsword gashes here and there.  The rest of the Heroes retreat out of the front of the fortress, carrying The Necromancer’s body with them.

After about ten minutes, The Necromancer comes to.

“Let’s get out of here, now, I’ll explain when we get back,” and with that, he casts teleport, and everyone is back at the formian complex.

“So what happened?” Eltharion asks.

“Okay, I went into all the rooms we searched and made it look like he did all the killing.  Then, I went to that one room with the hot door.  Since the thing was a fire giant, it could take the heat, so I went in.  It was extremely hot in there, like a furnace or something.  All the hammering is coming from there, as I saw tons of various creatures pounding away on anvils.  I killed a couple of guards, spiney looking creatures.

“I went deep into the forge, and saw a foundry.  Four huge pillars of fire surrounding a huge floating scimitar.  Looked very ornate, but I didn’t mess with it.  I went back the other way, and wandered out of the forge to a new area.

“That’s pretty much when the body of the giant died.  I was rushed by three things.  They were definitely preparing for the ambush.  One was a duergar with heavy plate armor.  One was like… an angel, but his wings were black.  He had a trumpet.  And one was like the devil Gryrtag, a pit fiend.  I was killed in almost literally a second.” The Necromancer takes a deep breath.

“At least we know what we’re up against,” Ogrim states.

“Let’s rest and get back there.  You saw the room, right?” Eltharion asks.

“Yes,” The Necromancer responds.

“Good, then you can teleport us in, so we can get the drop on them,” Eltharion says.

“Time to sleep,” Blaze collapses onto a blanket, and falls asleep on the hard iron floor.

Three on six, piece of cake, right?  Right???  See how many Heroes die, next time!!


----------



## Droid101 (Nov 18, 2004)

“I’m ready to go back in,” Blaze says emphatically.

The Heroes gather.  Bloodthorne is nowhere to be found.

“He probably went wandering off again…” The Necromancer says.  “We don’t have time to wait around for him, let’s get going.”

The Necromancer casts _fly_ on everybody.  He then casts _haste_ on himself.  Eltharion casts _barkskin_ on himself.  Ogrim casts a _shield of law._  Blaze casts _righteous might _ and _greater magic weapon_.

The Necromancer gathers Ogrim, Grog, Blaze, and Eltharion in close, and _teleports_ into the chamber where his fire giant body was killed.

They are in a large room with two stories.  A staircase leading up to the second level can be seen, and there is a balcony surrounding them from above.

Several forms start moving right away.  Two large metal cats leap at the Heroes from hidden crawl spaces on the first level.  A duergar with heavy adamantium armor peers over the balcony, and casts a spell.  He doubles in size and grows a pair of large red leathery wings.  A light-green skinned angel is standing next to him, and he readies a large silvery greatsword.  His normally white and pristine wings are blackened and twisted.

The final form on the balcony is a huge, 15 foot tall red-scaled, horned devil.  It immediately stands and gets ready to attack.

“TEMPUS!!” Blaze’s strength grows exponentially, and his now ten foot tall form rushes at the nearest metal cat.  He swings his axe down in a powerful overhead chop.  His axe pierces through the thing’s tough metal skin, and crushes its spinal column, killing it instantly.

“Impressive!” Ogrim chimes in.  He flies up to the second level, straight at the duergar.  “May the Hammer of the All-Father smite you!”

Ogrim’s axe slams into the adamantium plates, drawing a grunt from the dark dwarf.

The pit fiend launches a powerful _fireball_ down at the party.  The flames engulf The Necromancer, Blaze, Eltharion and Grog.  Eltharion dives out the way, The Necromancer and Grog are protected by magical items, but Blaze feels the full strength of the fire.  His hair is singed and his skin burned and peeling.

“Imperagon, let’s surround this one…” the fallen angel takes up position behind Ogrim, leaving him bracketed by the duergar and angel.

They strike at Ogrim with deadly precision.  A greatsword slash from behind, a greataxe chop from the front.  Ogrim grits his teeth and fights on, despite the considerable pain from the various wounds.

Grog and Eltharion fly up and bracket the fallen angel.  Grog throws all his weight and rage into a katana strike, and scores a deep hit to the angel’s flank.  Eltharion similarly slashes into the angel’s opposite side with his Moon-scimitar.

The other metal cat bounds upon Blaze’s back, raking and rending its four metal-clawed paws into him.  Blaze grits his teeth and falls to a knee.

The pit fiend flies down and bites into Blaze; its teeth dripping vile greenish venom.  Blaze is unable to dodge due to the metal cat bearing down on him.  His vision becomes blurry and his body burns.  He can feel the caustic venom coursing through his veins.  Strength leaves his arms.  He can feel his insides becoming liquefied.  His eyes roll back in his head so he can’t see himself hitting the ground.  He hardly feels the hard iron connecting with his head, only the searing poison inside of it.  His world and his senses fade to black.

The Necromancer’s eyes flare an evil and vengeful glow.  He hefts his drow-skull topped staff with rubies for eyes, and lowers his gaze upon the pit fiend.

“Now you die…” The Necromancer weaves a _horrid wilting_ spell.  It affects the pit fiend, metal cat, fallen angel, and Imperagon.  All four of them feel the moisture in their bodies evaporate; their skin shrivels and becomes dry and brittle.  The pit fiend begins a slow and deliberate stalk toward The Necromancer.

“I’m coming Nekky,” Eltharion disengages the fallen angel and flies down to meet the pit fiend head on.  He crashes into it and stabs it deep in the stomach.

Grog and Ogrim both focus their attacks on the angel.  Ogrim’s overhead axe chop causes the angel to call out in pain and grasp his shoulder.  In that moment of letting his guard down, Grog swings with all his might and cleaves the thing’s upper torso from the rest of its body.  Both pieces fall quite unceremoniously to the unyielding iron floor.  Grog flies down to help Eltharion.

Imperagon sets his gaze upon Ogrim.

“You think you can stop me from taking over this and all other planes of existence?” the dark dwarf mutters in a deep and draconic voice.  He swings at Ogrim, who blocks a few quick greataxe strikes with his shield.  Ogrim retaliates by pushing his shield into Imperagon’s face, then chopping with his axe low, below his shield and out of Imperagon’s field of vision.  The blade of his Orc-Killer axe weaves perfectly through the plates of Imperagon’s adamantium armor, and send Imperagon to his knees, and finally to another Hell altogether.

“The Hand of Moradin guides me axe.”

Ogrim looks down at The Necromancer, Grog, and Eltharion, and he starts to fly down to help.

The pit fiend, watching both his comrades die, decides upon another course of action.

“This isn’t over…” its dark and evil voice whispers.  With that, it vanishes.

“Teleported,” The Necromancer says as he puts the last metal cat into a _forcecage_.  “Let’s get out of here, we’ll come back to plunder the place later…”

Grog and Ogrim heft up Blaze’s large body, and The Necromancer _teleports_ them all back to the formian complex.

“Damn, just five more seconds and he would have been able to heal himself…” Eltharion says while healing up his and the others’ wounds.

“Tomorrow, we finish that devil and steal that sword that they are building.  Tomorrow, we take our revenge,” The Necromancer sums up.  The Heroes nod.

One on four… this should be easy, right?  Nothing unexpected, right?  The Heroes prevail, right??  Find out this and more, next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Nov 19, 2004)

After a good rest, the Heroes gather.

“Bloodthorne, where were you yesterday?  We could have used your help!” The Necromancer seems annoyed.

“So, are we goin’ back in now?” Bloodthorne stays oblivious.

“Impossible…” The Necromancer is quite flustered.

“Okay, okay.  Blaze is down, but we’re going back in to steal that sword in the foundry.  We’ll teleport in.  This time, we’ll have protection from fire spells going to help us if that pit fiend is still there, and so we can go into the forge without getting hurt,” Eltharion takes charge.

“Stealin’ is my specialty,” Bloodthorne chimes in.

Eltharion casts _protection from fire _ on everyone who needs it.  He also casts _barkskin_ on himself.  The Necromancer casts _mirror image_, _haste_ and _fly_ on himself.  He then casts _fly_ on everybody else.

“Ready?” The Necromancer asks.  The Heroes nod, and The Necromancer _teleports_ them onto the balcony of the two-story chamber.

The female duergar they killed is sitting down on the first level, cross legged.  Her eyes dart up to the Heroes as they arrive.  A wry smile crosses her lips.

From the far side of the chamber on the second level, four magical meteors materialize and streak toward the Heroes.  Their eyes widen and they all try to dive out of the way, but to little avail.

One of the meteors strikes The Necromancer head on, and he is killed instantly.  The explosion from the impact sends his limp form flying across the room and tumbling down the iron stairs.  His charred body lets out a puff of ash into the air.

One of the meteors strikes Ogrim squarely in the chest, but being the stalwart dwarf he is, he doesn’t budge.  The pain from the burns and subsequent explosion urges him to grit his teeth, but he hardly flinches.  The flames pour over everybody else.  Eltharion jumps, ducks and dodges, but still takes heavy burns from the fire and staggers to one knee, coughing from smoke inhalation.  Grog doesn’t fare much better, staggering but not falling.

Bloodthorne seems unaffected.  He jumps down to the first level and strikes out at the female duergar, cutting her on the arm.

Eltharion casts aside self-preservation and casts _faerie fire _ near where the meteors originated from.  Sure enough, the artificial fire illuminates the invisible form of the pit fiend.

Ogrim runs around the balcony, straight toward the pit fiend.

Eltharion closes in, and Grog does the same.

The duergar lashes out with a flurry of punches and kicks, attempting to stun or trip Bloodthorne, but to no avail.  He stays standing and dodges deftly.

The pit fiend flies down and bites into Bloodthorne, injecting his vile poison.

“ ‘ey mate, that stuff don’t work on me,” Bloodthorne throws off his hood to reveal his undead nature.

Ogrim jumps down to the first level, following the pit fiend.  He crashes into the devil with his axe on the way down, cutting deep into one of its leathery wings.

Grog and Eltharion get on either side of the balcony and leap off as well, both of them also scoring wounding hits on the fiend.

“You ‘ave to be the most pathetic excuse for a devil I’ve eva seen.  You ally yourself up with a dwarf and ‘ope to win?” Bloodthorne chuckles.  The pit fiend roars in anger.

That gives Bloodthorne the opening he needs.  He thrusts up with one of his enchanted longswords, digging it deep into the fiend’s neck.  It roars out in pain, and launches a combination of attacks at Bloodthorne.  Its claws rake deep into Bloodthorne’s decayed flesh, and its wings bludgeon his old bones.  And a final bite tops it all off, or rather, bites Bloodthorne’s top off.  Bloodthorne’s head is nearly separated from his shoulders, and his body falls limp to the floor.

“NO!” Grog yells out, his rage has been building since the first explosion.  His muscles bulge, his eyes go bloodshot, and the veins on his forehead become all the more prominent.  He grits his pointed teeth and swings his katana over his head with all his might.  The powerful attacks hit home, leaving huge gashes all over the fiend’s legs and stomach.

Eltharion lets fly from the other side, slicing his Moon-scimitar and Sun-sickle at blinding speed.  After a whirlwind of seven attacks, the pit fiend stumbles backward.

“We’ll meet again…” the fiend teleports away again, and the female duergar follows suit, vanishing from view.

Grog collapses to the ground, and Ogrim leans heavily on his axe.  Eltharion looks at Bloodthorne and The Necromancer’s bodies.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…” Eltharion mumbles.

“The cold iron floor feels good on all those burns…” Grog tries to make light of the situation, pressing his face against the metal.

“How are we supposed to get off this cube, when The Necromancer was the only one who could teleport us?” Ogrim asks.

“Maybe the ant-guys can teleport us home,” Eltharion reasons.

Ogrim carries The Necromancer’s body over and puts it next to Bloodthorne’s.

“I guess we should start walking…” Grog says, slowly getting up.

“Walkin’ where now?” Bloodthorne’s voice pipes up.

“Hey, you’re alive!” Grog exclaims.

“ ‘course I am,” Bloodthorne hobbles to his feet, the terrible wounds all over his undead body slowly healing.

“That’s good news.  So, can you be killed at all?” Grog asks.

“Not a chance!  Not before we steal that big sword of theirs!” Bloodthorne flies down to the exit door that leads to the forge.  He opens it and flies on in.  His undead body immune to the heat.

He flies through, but doesn’t see all the workers that The Necromancer did.  All the anvils are empty, and only the raging fires provide any kind of noise.  He flies around until he finds the foundry, and flies on in.

Four huge pillars of flame surround the large floating scimitar.  Bloodthorne flies on in and grabs the blade, then flies on out.  The pillars of flame start to move and spout small appendages.  However, Bloodthorne is long gone by the time they animate fully.

“ ‘ere it is.  Now, let’s get back to those ants,” Bloodthorne says.  He leads them through the forge, and back out quickly, Eltharion protecting them from fire once again before they go.  They get out and exit the fortress.  They start the long walk back, Ogrim carrying The Necromancer’s body.

“Anybody know which way it is?” Eltharion asks.

“The ant thing teleported us here, we never walked,” Grog responds.

“I’ll see what I can see,” Bloodthorne flies up several hundred feet, looking around for the large hive-like metal complex of the formians.

“I don’t see anything on this side of the cube that looks like the ant’s place,” Bloodthorne says when he returns to them.

“Great.  Well, let’s walk to the closest edge and check out that side, see if it’s there,” Eltharion says.  The Heroes begin to walk.

Will the Heroes find the formians?  Will the formians be able to get them home?  Will they be stuck on this strange cube-filled plane for the rest of eternity!?  Find out next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Nov 23, 2004)

“How long have we been walking…?” Eltharion asks, his legs and feet aching from the long march.

“Almost 12 hours,” Ogrim answers matter-of-factly.

“C’mon, we’re almost there, I can tell,” Bloodthorne says, his magical cape enabling him to float along next to them.  Not that he’d tire, anyway, being undead.

Eltharion was tired and Grog was getting there.  Ogrim’s training had prepared him for such long exertions, so he was still fine.

“Are we even close to the next side?” Eltharion asks.

“Not really,” Bloodthorne flies up high to check the surroundings, but finds nothing of note.

“Let’s go to that pile of metal and rest…” Eltharion suggests.

“Why doesn’t it get dark here at night?” Grog inquires.

“They don’t have a sun on this plane.  It’s just eternally gray,” Eltharion answers.

Eltharion collapses in a heap and rolls under a piece of iron shrapnel, for cover.  Grog lays down as well, putting his blanket out underneath himself.

“We’ll take some rest, but then we move out, and press on harder than today,” Ogrim states.  He sets down as well.

“I’ll fly around and see if I can find the ants,” Bloodthorne says, taking to the air.

The next morning, Eltharion is awoken by a violent shaking.

“I found it.  We cross the corner and it’s right on the edge,” Bloodthorne says.

“Good, how far?” Eltharion asks.

“Probably another 12 ‘ours for you slow-blokes,” Bloodthorne responds.

“Great…” Eltharion sighs.

“Let’s move,” Ogrim hefts The Necromancer’s heavily burned body, and they start walking.

Sure enough, after 12 long, boring, dreary and gray hours of walking along the hard, unforgiving iron, they reach the formian complex.

“Ohh, I could kiss you!” Grog runs at one of the worker formians, who doesn’t know how to react to Grog’s awkward hug.

_You have returned.  Are the metal cats defeated?_  Their formian guide soon shows himself from the complex of iron tunnels.

“Yes, we finished off their leader, stole their artifact, and crippled their operation completely,” Ogrim answers.

_Good.  What do you need from us?_

“Well, our spellcasters both perished in the battles, so we have no way to get back to the cube that has the portal that leads back to our land,” Eltharion says.

“It’s that cube, there,” Ogrim points to the small cube off in the distance, merely a point in the gray sky.  “Can you teleport us there?”

_I have never been to that cube before.  I cannot teleport you there.  I have only been to this cube, and one other._

“Great…” Eltharion sits down on the cold metal ground.

“We have no choice then.  After we rest, can you teleport us to that cube?  Unless you know of a portal on this one,” Ogrim asks.

_We are not aware of any portals on this cube.  I shall do as you ask, for helping with the metal cats._

“Thanks,” Eltharion says dejectedly.  The Heroes find their metal cubby-holes and take some rest from their long walk.

When they’re finally ready, they gather outside the complex.

“Do you want to carry those?  I ‘ave a magical bag,” Bloodthorne says, referring to the bodies of The Necromancer and Blaze.

“Let’s put Nekky and Blaze in there,” Eltharion helps push them into the small bag, which holds them in their entirety.

“If he was alive, he’d say ‘Don’t call me that’,” Grog laments.

“We’ll bring them back soon enough, don’t worry,” Eltharion comforts Grog.

_Let us go.  Good luck to you._

The formian gathers the Heroes in close, and in a flash they are surrounded by metal buildings of all kinds.  The formian nods, and teleports away.

“Looks like a city,” Grog says, looking around.

Iron buildings jut up all around them.  A marketplace with tents, carts, exotic fruits, vegetables, and other such things is down a street.  There is nobody behind any of the carts, however.  Nobody looking at wares.  Nobody looking out any windows.  Nobody anywhere.

“Looks deserted,” Eltharion replies to Grog’s remark after a slight delay.

A voice is heard chanting from around a corner.  The voice is old and wise, and thick with accent (think really old Jamaican man).

“De end is nea!  Da heavens be fallin’, don cha know.  Run fer ya lives now den,” a form comes into view from around the corner.  It’s a six foot tall gnoll.  His form is old and hunched over.  If he stood upright, he’d be at least seven feet tall, maybe more.  The fur covering his body is mottled and graying.  His movements are slow and methodical.  His muscles are emaciated from age and lack of exercize.  His eyes, however, gleam with a wisdom and intelligence, and something else.  Deep blue orbs seem highly contrasted to his decrepid and ancient body.

“The heavens?” Grog pipes up, looking toward the sky.  “Oh wait, I think he’s right.”

Ogrim, Eltharion and Bloodthorne look up as well.  Another huge cube looms in the sky, extremely close to this one.  It looks like it’s slowly advancing toward this one…

“That big ol’ thing is gonna crash into us,” Bloodthorne states the obvious.

“No wonder the town is deserted.  Nobody will survive that,” Eltharion says with a dread in his voice.  “Hey, old man, can you help us get out of here??  Why are you still here if the sky is falling??”

“Nowea else to be goin, now den.  I can’t be goin’ back to my village, they be da ones who be banishin’ me to dis place from da beginin’,” the old gnoll answers rather cryptically; his tattered robes hang from his body loosely.  He waves a crooked staff with several skulls attached to it by small lengths of rope.  They clank together to make a rather distinctive knocking sound.

“Okay, think fast.  You were banished here from where?” Eltharion looks up at the sky, the cube seeming to approach faster and faster.

“I came from Aldo-Valencha,” the gnoll answers.

“Aldor-Valencia… that’s where we are from!” Eltharion is excited, but frantic at the same time.  “Where exactly did you get banished to?  Can you go back?”

“I can be goin’ back through the portal, but den I gotta challenge da chief o da tribe to a honor match, which…” the gnoll is cut off.

“We’ll deal with that when we get there, just lead us to the portal, and we’ll make sure nobody harms you, deal?” Eltharion is talking faster and faster as the cube looms closer and closer.

“All right den, but now I gotta be rememberin’ where da portal be… lemme tink a bit…” the gnoll looks around, and starts walking slowly, using his crooked staff for support.

“This is the way?  Are you positive??” Eltharion asks.

“Yes yes, you be followin’ me now den, we’ll be findin’ it,” the gnoll responds.  He continues walking down an iron alley.  It becomes something of a labyrinth of twists and turns.

They come to a fork.  Two identical iron passageways.

The Heroes look up.  They can see small figures on the tip of the cube that is barreling down at them.  Looks almost like a boarding party, ready to leap aboard a captured ship…

“Come on, which was is it old man!” Eltharion asks frantically.

“Hold on, I’m tinkin’ about it… it’s dis way, I tink,” the gnoll replies, and they start down the left passage.

After about 30 seconds, the old gnoll stops.

“It was de oda way,” the gnoll turns around and goes back, taking the right path instead.

“We don’t have time for any more mishaps!!” Eltharion exclaims.

Another few twists and turns, and they come to yet another forked path.

“Oh no…” Grog mutters.

“Um, dis way.  I be sure of it,” the gnoll takes them down the left path.

“You better be right…” Eltharion looks up, almost able to make out the creatures that are on the tip of the other cube.  Humanoids of some kind…

“Da portal!” they turn a final corner, and see a greenish glowing portal.

Eltharion and Ogrim push the old man through, and jump through themselves.  Grog follows quickly behind.

Bloodthorne stays on the other side for a moment.

“I wonder if it could put me out of my… ah nevermind, I’d just wake up with metal in me ‘ead…” Bloodthorne watches as the tip of the other cube slams into the one he’s on.  The ground shakes violently, and send Bloodthorne to one knee.  He floats up and flies into the portal as the metal starts to bend, twist, and curl up, like a massive tidal wave of iron shrapnel and debris.

Grog, Eltharion, Ogrim, and the old gnoll are sprawled out on a soft tuft of grass.  The dew from the night is cool and moist.  Bloodthorne emerges from the portal and looks around.

It is night time, they sky filled with a myriad of stars.  The moon is bright.  The trees sway with a soft breeze.

They were home.

“Oh man, I never thought grass could feel so good…” Eltharion says.

“I’m never sleeping on metal again…” Grog states.

“So, what’s yer name, gnoll?” Ogrim sits up.

“I be Viknen Shadowdweller,” the gnoll responds.

“So why were you banished in the first place?” Eltharion asks.

“Da tribe I be in said dey was wary of me to be usin’ da black magics.  I kept on a usin’ it, so dey put me tru da portal, and say I can’t be comin’ back,” Viknen explains.  “It was eder dat, or I gotta be fightin’ a battle against da chief for da right to be stayin’.”

“Why don’t you just run away?  Or use your magic to win the fight?” Eltharion asks.

“Dat don’t be de honorable ting to do, mon,” Viknen responds.

“So what are we gonna do when the tribe finds us here?” Grog asks.

“I be allowed to name a champion to be fightin’ for me honor.  Dat or I’ll be fightin’ him myself,” Viknen’s old voice quavers slightly.

“I’ll fight for your honor, you did save our lives,” Grog says.

“Tank you good gobin, you’s quite a good person,” Viknen says.

Some low chanting can be heard from all around them.

“Wek don vats kin log ta dis veda?” the biggest gnoll the party has ever seen steps out from behind a tree.  Several other gnolls with spears surround the Heroes.

The big gnoll is wearing a loin cloth and little else.  His thick brown hides don’t hide his massively muscled arms and legs.  He stands eight feet tall, and his canines the largest of the group.

“Ven ta kand vis la goth del ma naza,” Viknen responds.  “Dey be askin’ me to fight now, or be namin’ a champion.  I named da goblin.  You gotta be givin’ up your weapon before da fight.”

Grog nods, and hands his katana to Eltharion.

_Let no harm come to the brave one…_  A soothing voice emanates from the blade into Eltharion’s head as soon as he grasps it.

“Don’t worry…” Eltharion responds.  Ogrim and Bloodthorne look at him funny.

Grog steps up to the huge gnoll.  Ogrim, Eltharion, Bloodthorne, Viknen and the other gnolls form a circle around them.

Grog yells as loud as he can.  He puffs out his chest and his rage bulges out his muscles even futher.

The gnoll barks right back, a loud and fiercome call.  His muscles bulge as well, and his eyes go bloodshot, like Grog’s.

Can a barbarian goblin defeat a frenzied berserker gnoll that is over twice as tall as him?  Will the Heroes have to step in?  Find out the exciting conclusion, next time!


----------



## Hairy Minotaur (Nov 23, 2004)

Droid101
“Da tribe I be in said dey was wary of me to be usin’ da black magics.  I kept on a usin’ it said:
			
		

> I'm gonna guess the answer lies in "black magics"?


----------



## the Jester (Nov 23, 2004)

Venken: new pc?

One of the coolest things about this story hour is how often I ask myself that question about the characters you're portraying...


----------



## Droid101 (Nov 24, 2004)

the Jester said:
			
		

> Venken: new pc?
> 
> One of the coolest things about this story hour is how often I ask myself that question about the characters you're portraying...



Almost unveiling time!  I think I'll have a contest to see who can guess which characters are PCs and which are NPCs.  Heh.



			
				Hairy Minotaur said:
			
		

> I'm gonna guess the answer lies in "black magics"?



Heh heh heh...


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## Droid101 (Nov 24, 2004)

Grog dives in, the spittle flying from his mouth, and he grabs onto the huge gnoll’s legs.  With a swift motion the gnoll falls on top of him.  The gnoll is no stranger to wrestling, and he grabs ahold of Grog with two muscled arms.

Grog wiggles free and rolls to his feet, slugging the gnoll in the head, then grabbing its head into a headlock.  The gnoll tries to lift Grog up, but Grog shifts his center of gravity and slams the gnoll’s head into the ground.  Grog knees the gnoll in the chin twice, and the gnoll finally breaks free, flailing its limbs wildly.

Grog takes a solid punch to the gut, and a grazing hit to the face.  Blood and spittle from both fighters is flying left and right.

Eltharion, Ogrim, and Bloodthorne wince, flinch, and gasp at the brutal hand-to-hand fight taking place in front of them, but none of them move to help Grog.  Viknen, the old gnoll, is similarly amazed.

Grog dives in again, trying to grab onto the gnoll’s leg and trip him.  The gnoll instead backpedals, and Grog lands on his face.  The gnoll then does a diving elbow slam to Grog’s head.  Grog’s vision goes blurry for a moment, but the instinct and rage in his blood keep him moving quickly.

Grog thrusts his head up once, twice, and three times; scoring a deep head-but move on the gnoll’s face each time.  Blood pours out of gashes on the creature’s nose and forehead onto Grog.

The gnoll tries to retaliate with a similar move, but both of his head-buts hurt him more than they hurt Grog.  Grog pushes the gnoll off and twists the thing’s arm back as far as he can.  The gnoll lets out a yelp, but manages to spin around and clock Grog in the neck with his free hand.  Grog stumbles back, clutching his throat.

He shakes it off, however, and charges right back in.  He fakes a two-fisted overhead punch, but then goes in low with a kick to the gnoll’s groin.  The gnoll falls to his knees, unable to even pronounce the pain he suffers.  Grog takes that opening to sock him in the face.  The punch is so solid that the gnoll’s teeth can be heard separating from their sockets in his mouth.  The gnoll falls backward and collapses onto the grass.

Grog falls to a knee, his rage and adrenaline fading fast.  He is panting heavily and covered in blood; both his and the gnoll’s.

“Grog, you’re the man!” Eltharion calls out, and the other gnolls yelp and bark out in unison.

“Ye don well in protectin’ me!  I be allowed to be stayin’ here now!  How can I be repayin’ you?” Viknen pipes up.

“Maybe if you can help us figure out where we are, and how we can get back home,” Ogrim says.

“I can be leadin’ you.  I don tink dey want me here, cause of me usin’ da black magics.  They’d rader I leave dis place,” Viknen responds.  “We on an island, to da north is the place where all da ships be goin’.  From dere I tink we can be findin’ our way to wherever you need to be getting’.”

“Thank you very much,” Eltharion says while healing up Grog and the large gnoll.

“Mek dan frul das,” the gnoll says, while stumbling to his feet.

“Da chief is sayin dat yous the best fighta he’s eva seen,” Viknen translates.

“He’s not too bad himself…” Grog rubs his head.

The Heroes take rest in the gnoll tribe.  They get a pretty large teepee type building to sleep in.  The chief lets them borrow a small boat they have for fishing, to use to get back to the main land.  He will send two gnolls to man the boat and return with it.

“Da chief says it be official.  I don gotta be banished to da metal place, but I can’t be stayin’ here wit da gnolls, cause of de black magics,” Viknen returns from the chief’s tent.

“You’re welcome to come with us.  We’re formidable warriors, and we’ll protect you,” Eltharion offers.

“Tank you much.  I’ll be goin’ wit you as long as deese old bones hold up,” Viknen says.  “Da boat be ready wheneva we need to be goin’.”

“We set out tomorrow.  Adlai has got to be wondering where we are by now,” Eltharion says.  The Heroes take their rest.

After all this time, will the Heroes finally get home?  Will they finally get a rest or some time off, or will something new go wrong?  Find out next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Nov 26, 2004)

Bonus Holiday Post!

No time for a real update, so I'll just show you Viknen Shadowdweller's character.

*Viknen Shadowdweller, 56 year old gnoll Adept 8 / Hexer 8.  S7 D5 C8 I16 W23 Ch13.*

Update on Monday!


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## Hairy Minotaur (Nov 26, 2004)

I guess with a name like Shadowdweller, strength and fortitude aren't going to be expected.


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## Droid101 (Nov 29, 2004)

The gnoll’s five-man boat is seating seven.  Bloodthorne flies along side of the boat whenever anyone gets too uncomfortable.  Viknen, Eltharion, Ogrim, Grog, and the two rowing gnolls squeeze in on their cramped ride to the mainland.

After a full 12 hours of rowing, they finally reach the shore that evening.  Stars fill the sky and the Heroes take note of it again.  They can see the lights of a city nearby.

“Thanks!” Eltharion calls back to the gnolls as they row away.

“Is dat da town you be comin’ from?” Viknen asks.

“I don’t know what town that is,” Eltharion responds.

“Let’s get moving,” Ogrim states.  They start walking and reach the town in an hour.  They take up refuge in an inn (with only a little bit of convincing to let Viknen in).  They gather in the morning.

“So, what town is this?”  Ogrim asks the innkeeper as they get ready to leave.

“Ye don’t even know where ye are?  This is the port town of Selig, on the Cape of Blades,” the innkeeper responds.

“That’s good, we’re close to Brunswick… I think,” Eltharion rubs his chin.

“Yeah, ye just head west on the road, it’ll lead you straight past the Adventurer’s Guildhall, Baron, and on into Brunswick,” the innkeeper helps them out a bit.

“Thanks!” Eltharion tosses him an extra silver, and the Heroes set out immediately.

After what seems like the easiest and most laid back four days of their lives, they arrive at Brunswick without an incident, other than a bit of rain.

“I like this plane better than that other one…” Grog states the obvious.

“Grass feels better than iron,” Ogrim chimes in.

“So, we are going to set up a planar refugee camp in our iron fortress on Archeron, right?” Bloodthorne has his wheels turning already; looking for the most coin.

“Perhaps the dwarves from my stronghold could take up residence there and keep track of the comings and goings for us,” Ogrim offers.

“We need to check on Bellamy Bill and our house on Sigil, too,” Eltharion says.  They cross the massive bridge across the huge moat around the city, and reach the wall.  They are let in, and head directly for the castle.

“Find Adlai, tell him we have returned,” Eltharion tells the gate guard at the castle.  The guard runs in and comes out in a minute.

“Come right in, Adlai and Felix are waiting,” the guard says.

“Where have you been!” Adlai is up and pacing.

“Busy…” Eltharion looks at Grog and chuckles.

“Who are they?” Adlai asks, pointing to Bloodthorne and Viknen.

“This is Bloodthorne, he’ll help us do whatever we need.  And this is Viknen Shadowdweller.  He may look old, but he uses black magic,” Eltharion explains.

“Necromancer and Blaze died,” Grog adds bluntly, pointing to Bloodthorne’s magical bag.

“Well, we’ll get the high priest to raise them, because we’re going to need their help.  The dark elves are moving, and we don’t have any time to waste,” Adlai says.

“Of course they are…” Eltharion rolls his eyes.

“My scouts have reported a huge disc of darkness over their troops.  Looks like they have a group of storm giants who are carrying a large metal spire.  Out of the top of this spire, the disc of darkness is emanating, blocking all light below it.  I think they’re using magic to control the weather as well, as it has been raining and stormy for the last few days.  They are coming, and they are coming for us,” Adlai says.

“They’re coming for Brunswick?  You know for sure?” Eltharion asks.

“Yes, they are marching directly at us.  Unless they change course, we’re the target.  I’ve already started planning the defense, digging ditches, tarring the fields, whatever we can do to prepare,” Adlai says.

“We’ll get right on it as well.  We’ll be ready,” Ogrim says.

“They’ll be here in less than five days at the rate they’re going.  I’ve sent missives to Baron and all the other major cities for aid, but none are coming.  We’re too small to hold any sizeable army anyway,” Adlai seems frantic.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be okay,” Felix speaks up from behind him.

“I have all the contingency plans worked out.  Once the enemy gets closer, we’ll figure out teams and whatnot,” Adlai says.  “Let’s get Blaze and The Necromancer raised so they can help prepare.”

The Heroes take the bodies to the high priest of the castle, who raises both of them.

“Woah… what happened…” Blaze shakes his head.

“A lot,” Eltharion responds, giving his friend a slap on the back.

“Oh… man… tell me you killed that (edited for content) pit fiend…” The Necromancer curses as he gets up off the altar.

“It got away.  But we pretty much own the iron fortress now,” Eltharion says.

“Not good enough.  That thing just made my list,” The Necromancer growls.

“Calm down Nekky, we’ve got more important stuff going on now,” Eltharion says.

“What is that?” The Necromancer asks.

“The dark elves and their army is marching toward Brunswick.  We have to set up a defense and get ready,” Eltharion says.

“Hm, I’m going to see if my brother will help us,” Blaze says.

“Too bad Damaré and Jezda took off, they could help us too,” Ogrim says.

“Especially since Damaré has a jewel that has King Brunswick inside of it…” Grog adds.

“Well, let’s get busy…”

Will the Heroes have enough time to mount a good enough defense?  Who will come to their aid?  Will the city of Brunswick fall?  Find out next time!


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## Droid101 (Nov 30, 2004)

The preparations were underway.

Ogrim was out in the fields beyond the city’s moat every day, setting up tar and mud traps.  The rain helped with the mud immensely.

Eltharion went to the nearby forest, about a day away.  He bonded with the animals and found a cheetah that took a liking to him.  He left it there in the woods until he’d be out in the wilderness for a more prolonged period of time.

The Necromancer made scrolls of various anti-magic user spells.

Grog, Bloodthorne and Viknen stayed out of sight, preparing themselves privately.  They weren’t exactly human, and therefore they would most likely be harassed.

Blaze contacted his brother, Blaine, via a _sending_ spell, and Blaine arrived two days later from the kingdom of Baron.

“Brother!” Blaine calls out, as the Brague brothers embrace in a hearty hug.

“What news from Baron?” Blaze asks.

“The dwarves are still taking refuge inside the Great Wall.  The king of Baron does not want to send aid, instead, he wasts others, including Brunswick, to send aid to him, for when the dark elves turn toward Baron.  He did, however, say that if things go badly here, that we can retreat to Baron, and he’d take in any refugees that sought a place of refuge,” Blaine explains.

“No aid?  Is he crazy?” Blaze says.

“No, it’d be too late anyway,” Adlai says as he approaches from behind.  “I have already sent out a proclaimation to the populace about the battle and what to do in case things turn ugly.”

“What is that?” Grog asks.

“Well, at the southern most part of the city walls, there is a large removable piece of wall.  With a touch of a magical button, the wall will move and an invisible bridge will materialize so that people can cross the moat and escape south to the beach, and head east to Baron,” Adlai explains.

“Sounds good,” Grog responds.

“More bad news.  I’ve been deciphering some of the ancient prophecies in my spare time, and this Dark Tide that’s coming might not be just the dark elves.  It might be something else along with it…” Adlai says.

“Well, help us prepare, the dark elves’ army should be here in the next couple of days.  We’ll need to be ready,” Blaze says to Blaine, and they go off to catch up and get ready.

On the fourth day, one day before it is projected that the dark army will arrive, the Heroes gather in the castle.  Blaine, Blaze, Ogrim, Eltharion, Grog, Bloodthorne, Viknen, The Necromancer, Adlai, and Felix sit around the great circular table in the meeting hall.

“What’s the game plan?” The Necromancer says, rubbing his hands together.  His dreadlocks bounce as his head looks back and forth to his friends.

“All right, first of all, thanks for all donating your time and possibly even your lives to help defending the castle and the city.  The people are all thankful, even if they fail to show it,” Adlai stands to address the rest of them.  “We have a pretty good idea of what we want to do when the attack comes, but I just want to let you all know before it happens.

“Felix and I will stay behind.  Felix will be atop the castle tower, using his magical eyepiece to scout the battlefield, and shoot at whoever comes within his range.”

“And it’s a long range,” Felix add, tapping his flintlock-longrifle resting against the table.

“I’ll coordinate the city guard to help escort people to the exit point.  I don’t want any surprises, so if it even seems remotely like the castle will be breached, we’re getting the people out of the city,” Adlai goes on.  “The rest of you are going to act like the arms of the city.  You’re going to venture out into the attacking forces and try to hit their most important soldiers or commanders.

“That’s the only way we can hope to break them, as we don’t have the forces to fight back against them for long.  Especially if magic is involved.”

“We’re ready,” Ogrim grunts.  The rest of the Heroes nod.

Can the Heroes defend the city?  What else could be coming in the Dark Tide?  Will they ever get any rest!?  Get these answers and more, next update!


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## Hairy Minotaur (Nov 30, 2004)

Remember the Alamo!!

If the enemy's general is named S'tana (or some derivitive thereof), then we all know how this is going to end.


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## Droid101 (Dec 1, 2004)

“Bombardment!  We’re being attacked!!” a guard runs through the city, shouting.  The attack came at nightfall, of course.  Not that it mattered; the disc of blackness emanating from the large spire being carried by the storm giants was enough to block out the sun over the city as it is.  The guard’s footsteps splashed down in small puddles due to the heavy rain.

An explosion takes down a nearby building, flames fighting against the rain for strength.

The Heroes hastily gather on the roof of the castle, just next to the stairs that lead up to the tower.

“Okay, what’s going on and what do we do?” Eltharion asks.

“Felix is on the tower right now scoping out the situation.  He should be down in a minute.  Right now, I already have the guards getting people to the southernmost part of the city, ready to evacuate,” Adlai says.  Felix comes running down the stairs.

“Okay, this is what’s happening,” Felix starts.  “To the north, there is a troupe of about eight or ten storm giants wearing heavy plate armor with some big swords.  They are chucking rocks at the city’s outer wall, just out of range of any of our ballistas. 
“To the northeast, two large sections of the outer wall have strangely morphed into bridges across the moat.  They’ve used magic to create their own access points.  Beyond the wall to the northeast, about eight or nine-hundred feet out is the biggest force.  Looks like a troupe of well armored orcs, along with an even larger group of goblins.  Beyond them is hard to see, but I see a few giants and a small group of dark elves.  Two of the giants are holding up the gigantic spire that’s creating this darkness everywhere.  The goblins are on the move toward the opening in the wall, but the rest are stationary.

“To the east, there is a huge giant, larger than any giant I have ever seen.  Somewhere close to 50 feet tall, maybe more.  He is picking up kobolds and throwing them over the wall, from over 400 feet.  Those are causing the big explosions.  The kobolds have explosive devices tied to them, and they detonate on impact.”

“Throwing kobolds… why doesn’t he just throw the explosives…” Adlai seems perplexed.

“A little south of the giant there is a large group of dark elves on the move toward the southeast wall of the city.  They seem extremely organized and move in unison.

“And finally, to the southwest, there is a bunch of flashes of magic going off.  First, there were about four dark elf figures, but then several large monstrous creatures started to appear.  I think they’re summoning demons.  That’s about it.”  Felix finishes.

“Okay… let me think…” Adlai starts, but is cut off.

“No time for thinking.  I’m going to take Blaze and Blaine and go after the summoning wizards.  We are the best suited for magical combat,” The Necromancer says right away.  “I’ll cast _fly_ on everyone so we can move around faster.”

The Necromancer casts _fly_ on everyone.

“I’m ‘eadin’ for the giants…” Bloodthorne says, picking up Grog and flying north.  “And I’m takin’ ‘im with me.”

“I guess that leaves us… let’s go stop that really big giant throwing the kobolds.  He’s doing the most damage right now,” Eltharion says, looking to Ogrim and Viknen.

“Let us see how well deese old bones hold up…” Viknen says.

“I’ll send a missive to one person in each group updating the battlefield from here.  Make sure you respond!” Adlai says.  “Now get going!”

The Necromancer, Blaze, and Blaine fly to the southwest.  Grog and Bloodthorne are already flying north.  Eltharion, Ogrim and Viknen take off to the east.

“Good luck!!”

Next time:  What do giant brains taste like… or What is Dendybar up to… or Seven against an army…


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## Droid101 (Dec 2, 2004)

During their flight, The Necromancer and Blaze frantically cast several spells on themselves and Blaine.  _Protection from elements, spell immunity, spell resistance, spell turning,_ and _holy aura_, among others.

As they continue their flight to the southwest, they start to see a lot of dancing and flashing lights in the distance.

“Pretty powerful spells going off down there, be on your guard,” The Necromancer says.

“I’m going to charge any casters, you guys come in from the sides…” and Blaze casts a _righteous might _ and _magic weapon_, growing in size and barreling straight in at a dark elf wizard.

The Necromancer and Blaine fly off the the sides.  The Necromancer readies his component pouch, while Blaine pulls out his rapier and main-gauche.

“TEMPUS!!” Blaze bellows as he closes in on the wizard.  His muscules bulge and grow under his armor, and his axe cleaves through the wizard in one fell stroke, and swipes on into a nearby demon.  The black skinned, red-ooze dripping demon staggers back from the hit, but does not fall.

The Necromancer, from off in the distance, casts a _horrid wilting _ spell on the group, devastating their ranks.  Another cloaked dark elf falls, clutching his mouth as the moisture in his body evaporates away in an instant.  Two dark elf females in plate armor stagger to their knees, and another cloaked dark elf stumbles back but does not fall.  The black skinned demon shrivels up, but two other demons remain…

…a fifteen foot tall balor, complete with flaming sword and whip, and a ten foot tall marilith, with six shining adamantium blades.

Blaine flies in from the other side and barrels into the marilith.  A quick stab of his rapier in its back and it lets out a shriek of pain.

“Kill them!” one of the females calls out as she steps up to Blaze.  She wields a sturdy adamantium shield and a flail with five snake heads.  Each one biting and snapping out at Blaze, drawing deep and burning bite wounds.

The marilith turns to face Blaine.  He swings at him, the six longswords coming in at every angle at once.  Blaine is fortunate enough to dodge them all, but has his bell rung by a final tail slap.  He shakes his head and can see clearly once again.

“Not exactly a fair fight, I only have two arms…” Blaine quips as he spins, an elegant dance of perfection and skill.

“STUN!!” the air around the balor seems to grow even darker as he lets out the arcane word.  The spell, however, fails against Blaze, too powerful to be affected.

The other priestess and cloaked elf step back and cast some defensive spells.

“You should have run…” Blaze’s teeth grind together as he brings his battle axe down once, twice, three times into the armored priestess in front of him.  The sheer strength of his attacks pierce through her adamantium plates.  After the second hit to the shoulder, she falls to one knee.  The third hit sends the blade of his axe entirely into her back, and with a slight toss, he sends her limp body flying a full fifteen feet toward the balor.  “You’re next…”

“Call back the others!” the remaining priestess says in undercommon, backing off in a defensive posture.

Blaine spins once again, and with some lightning quick strikes, draws six gaping wounds just below the marilith’s adamantium corset.  Each hit piercing with an unerring accuracy.

The marilith retaliates, and this time does a little more damage.  She scores four hits on Blaine, small lines of blood and tears in his black cloaks begin to show.

The Necromancer casts _forcecage_ on the priestess and wizard, trapping them both inside.

The balor closes in on Blaze, slashing out with his flaming vorpal blade.  It cuts into Blaze deeply, blood beginning to stream out of the seams in his armor.

“I can’t take much more of this…” Blaze says, still gritting his teeth.  He slams his axe out at the winged demon, striking it twice and drawing roars of pain from the thing.

“Me neither…” Blaine says as he slices into the marilith a few more times.  Both demons were very resilient, however, and were still fighting like they were at full strength.

The Necromancer took that as his queue, and casts _wall of ice_, separating the demons from Blaze and Blaine.

The wizard _disintegrates_ the _forcecage_ around he and the priestess.

“Come here, I’ll enable you to fly,” the wizard says in undercommon to the marilith.

Blaze and Blaine begin to fly away, along with the Necromancer.  They fly to the northwest, hoping to draw the demons away from the castle.  Sure enough, the demons can be see behind them, flying and both looking quite angry.

The Necromancer hears something in his head…

_Send one to castle if you can spare.  Discussing contingency plans._

“I’m going back to the castle to report, you guys keep luring them away,” and with that, The Necromancer _teleports_ back to the castle rooftop.  Adlai is standing there, not exactly calm.

“What’s going on?” The Necromancer asks.

“Wow, you got here fast,” Adlais says.  “I’m going to show everyone a contingency exit, and make sure it works.  Just in case we can’t evacuate everyone from the castle, or if you need to use it for any other reason.”

“The portal to Sigil in the Oubliette?” The Necromancer says.

“Exactly.  If we need an escape route, we need to check and see if that still works.  It seems that the dark elves have amplified a dimensional anchoring spell that stops teleporting out of the castle.  The gate will be the only way out if it comes to it,” Adlai says.

“Does that mean I have to fly back out there?  Damn… I’ll never find them…” The Necromancer curses under his breath.

The summoning was thwarted… somewhat.  What of the stone-chucking storm giants?  Or the kobold-chucking mountain giant?  Find out next time!!!


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## the Jester (Dec 2, 2004)

Yeah!  You made 'em split up!


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## Droid101 (Dec 3, 2004)

the Jester said:
			
		

> Yeah!  You made 'em split up!



Yes, isn't it grand?

Gotta keep 'em on their toes!


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## Droid101 (Dec 9, 2004)

Ogrim, Eltharion and Viknen flew to the east.  Explosions coming from the city behind them could be heard at irregular intervals.  The rain soaked them thoroughly.

“So what we gonna be doin’ to da big giant ting, eh?” Viknen asks while his staff’s skulls clacked together quietly.

“We’re going to kill it.  Just support Ogrim and I however you can.  Don’t get yourself killed,” Eltharion says.

They flew out beyond the city walls for about a minute when a huge shape could be seen looming before them.  A fifty foot tall giant man.  He was bending down and picking something up… a kobold.  He reached way back, and threw it with all his might.  The kobold went flying through the air and out of their sight.  About fifty more kobolds were gathered around the feet of the huge man.

Eltharion flew in at the thing’s knees, slashing out and cutting it across the knee cap.  The giant reacted as one would to a mosquito bite; a swipe with the back of his hand.  The huge hand sent Eltharion flying backwards, but he was able to right himself in the air.

Ogrim flew in at the thing’s stomach, jamming his axe into it.  The giant grabbed Ogrim and threw him at Eltharion.  They collided in mid air, sending the air out of both of them.  The kobolds on the ground began to jump up and down and cheer.  Small packs could be seen attached all over the kobolds… explosives most likely.

“They have explosives on them!  Try to get the giant to step on them or something!” Eltharion exclaims.

“Right away mon,” Viknen flies up to eye level with the enormous giant.  Viknen’s blue eyes become almost crystalline; like a beautiful faceted sapphire, each one glinting almost hypnotically.  The flash of blue energy has the giant swaying, and finally his eye roll back in his head, and he falls to the earth – hard.

He lands on about ten kobolds, five of whom have their packs discharge and explode.  The flames lick over the giant and most of the other kobolds, whose packs similarly light and explode.  The chain reaction of fire and noise creates quite a sight indeed.  The explosions kill all of the kobolds, but merely wake the giant up from his gaze-induced slumber.  He staggers to his feet as Eltharion and Ogrim fly in from different sides, cutting into both his arms simultaneously.

The giant howls out as they both pierce his funny bones on each of his elbows.  He swings out at both of them, but only offers them glancing blows, both of which are able to shrug them off and continue fighting.

Both of them fly slowly up his arms while slicing, slashing, cutting, stabbing and gouging at the giant.  They take a couple of more powerful hits from the giant, and are finally both flying near his neck and face.  Ogrim cuts into the giant’s spine on its neck, and Eltharion dives his Sun-sickle and Moon-scimitar into both of the giant’s eyes.  One last long howl of pain, and the giant falls to its knees, clutching its face.  It falls the rest of the way and connects with the ground, creating a virtual earthquake from its enormous size.

Eltharion and Ogrim survey their bruises.  Viknen comes over and heals them both as best he can, his skull topped staff clacking as he swings it to invoke his spells.

Eltharion hears something in his head…

_Send one to castle if you can spare.  Discussing contingency plans._

“Adlai wants one of us to meet up at the castle to discuss plans,” Eltharion says.

“Let’s all go, we’ve done our part here,” Ogrim states.

They fly back.  After about ten minutes they get back to the roof of the castle, and see The Necromancer there with Adlai.

“What’s going on?” Eltharion asks.

“We’re going to go check to see if the dark elves neutralized the portal to Sigil in the Oubliette.  We need to make sure we have a contingency plan in case things go sour,” Adlai says.

“Can’t we just teleport?” Eltharion asks.

“No, the dark elves have put up a massive dimensional anchoring spell, preventing any planar travel.  That’s why the portal becomes vital in case we can’t escape.  Let’s go check it out,” Adlai says.

“I’m going back to find Blaze and Blaine, they’ll need me if those demons are still chasing them,” The Necromancer says.

“Okay, keep them busy!” Adlai says, and The Necromancer flies off.

Adlai, Eltharion, Ogrim, and Viknen start toward the jail, head through the secret passage, then go down into the Oubliette.

“What happened to Grog and Bloodthorne?” Eltharion asks.

“I sent them a message just like to you, but they never came,” Adlai says.  “I fear the worst…”

“They’re tough, they’ll be fine,” Eltharion says.

Just as they reach the boarded off cell in the Oubliette, a stone next to the cell comes loose and falls to the floor.  A form steps through, and stops abruptly.

Dendybar.

“Uh oh…” Dendybar says slowly.  A form steps out with him.  A half-man, half-demon with a golden left eye and hand, and golden right arm and right leg.  The demon that Vecna raised so many times…

Eltharion instantly pulls out the futuristic laser gun that sent Dendybar to the faraway plane, and pulls the trigger…

…but nothing comes out.

“Wait, wait… now look, we can fight now…” Dendybar’s reasoning is stopped, as Ely Cromlich, the half demon, steps in front of him at the same time as Eltharion attempts to rush forward.  Adlai and Ogrim hold onto Eltharion, not allowing him to charge.

“Wait!  Look, we can fight now, and maybe we’d win, maybe you’d win, but for sure, both sides would be severely weakened and probably unable to escape the battle up above,” Dendybar reasons calmly.  A flicker and two forms can be seen floating above Adlai and Ogrim.  One is the dark elf with spiked out hair that they’ve faced so many times before.  The other is a dark cloaked creature with tentacles writhing from beneath its hood.

“It is four on four.  Maybe two would survive.  That won’t help us escape those damned elves out there.  We need to call a truce…” Dendybar says with a slight hesitation.

Eltharion is still trying to escape Ogrim and Adlai’s grasp to attack them, but finally stops.

“I don’t have to like it,” Eltharion says to Ogrim and Adlai, not even glancing to Dendybar.

“Let’s go then…” Ely says as he takes to the air, flying up the cylindrical Oubliette chamber.  Xyxtactil the illithid and Kev’Zen the dark elf both start flying up, vanishing in the process.  Dendybar flies up the stairs as well, casting an invisibility spell as he does, vanishing as well.

“Let’s be on da safe side…” Viknen says as he casts a quick _see invisibility _ on Ogrim and Eltharion.

Adlai checks the portal.

“It’s not working.  Damn!  Okay, I’ll make sure the citizens are ready to flee, then.  You guys get going and see if we can turn them back,” Adlai says.

Eltharion, Ogrim and Viknen fly out of the Oubliette and out of the castle.  They follow Dendybar, Xyxtactil, Kev’Zen and Ely out to the castle rooftop.

“We’re going northeast.  The leaders and the giant carrying the spire of darkness is that way,” Ogrim says.

“Kill or be killed,” Ely says.  “After this battle, we are enemies again.”

“Fine,” Ogrim grunts.  The group of seven starts flying out to the northeast.  Out towards destiny.

How will they fare fighting alongside their mortal enemies?  Can you smell a betrayal?  What about Grog and Bloodthorne??  Find out next time!!!


----------



## Hairy Minotaur (Dec 9, 2004)

Excellent, excellent update.


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## Droid101 (Dec 9, 2004)

Hairy Minotaur said:
			
		

> Excellent, excellent update.



Thank you, thank you.

And if anybody is wondering (I'm sure someone cares) that was Dendybar, Xyxtactil, Kev'Zen and Ely's lair.  Yes, their lair was behind the portal to Sigil in Castle Brunswick.  Yes, because nobody would ever look behind the portal, thinking the cell to be abandoned.  Yes, it was dastardly, but it's over now, so don't worry about it.


----------



## Droid101 (Dec 11, 2004)

The rain pelted their faces as they quickly flew out northeast over the city and into the fields.  The area immediately surrounding them was brightened up by the light from Eltharion’s Sun-sickle.

Eltharion, Ogrim and Viknen flew a little bit behind Ely, Dendybar, Xyxtactil and Kev’Zen.

“Kev’Zen, Xyx, you two get out of here to our secondary base.  Ely and I will stay here and do some damage,” Dendybar says.  Kev’Zen and Xyxtactil start flying directly north.

“Try to make yourselves useful,” Ely says back to the Heroes, his leathery wings pumping hard and fast.

“Same to you,” Eltharion grits his teeth as they fly on.

They were flying about 50 feet off the ground.  Below them they could see goblin stragglers running toward the castle.  They seemed bigger than normal…

“Don’t worry about them, we’re after the leaders…” Ogrim says as they continue their flight.

Two blasts of electricity came from either side of them.  The bolts cut through both Eltharion and Ogrim.  They were able to dodge out of the way of the first, taking only minor burns.  Ogrim dodged the second, and the second one fizzled out once it came in contact with Eltharion.

Two dark elves wearing dark cloaks could be seen flying on either side of them.  Another one appeared out in front, closer to Ely and Dendybar, blasting them with lightning.

“Looks like our cover is blown, let’s do this,” Eltharion says as he flies at one of the wizards.  He slashes him across the chest, drawing a line of blood and a cry of pain from the elf.

Ogrim flies out at the other one, hacking down with his Orc-Killer axe.  It blasts through the dark elf’s collar bone and deep into his chest plate.  The elf dies immediately, and falls down to the earth below.

Dendybar, being invisible already, leisurely flies around the back of the last dark elf wizard.  He reaches around and positions his dagger in front of the elf’s neck, and slashes it violently.  Blood sprays out at every angle, and Ely laughs as the elf falls to the earth without a sound.

“Keep your eye on them…” Ogrim says to Viknen.

The dark elf on Eltharion flew back and let out five magical missiles.  Each one fizzled out as it connected with Eltharion, who was unharmed.  Eltharion closed in and let out a lethal seven hit combination, cutting and slashing the dark elf to ribbons, and his body fell to the ground below.

“Let’s go, I can see the orc troops,” Ely says, pointing down to the ground with his golden right arm.  He pulls out his long Ashblade, and it sprays ash all around as he does so.

Sure enough, the well-armored orc battalion could be seen up ahead.  They seemed very well organized, but were stationary at the moment.

“Stay behind us, we don’t want you getting hurt,” Eltharion says to Viknen as he and Ogrim fly down to the ground.  Ely and Dendybar join them.  The orcs spot Ogrim, Eltharion and Ely, as they aren’t invisible.

“Let them come to us…” Ely says, swinging his blade around, creating a cloud of ash.

Ogrim and Eltharion get into defensive stances.  Dendybar readies his longsword and dagger, staying quiet.

The orcs let out a loud roar and charge.  There must be at least five hundred of them.  They are all wearing heavy plate armor with shields and longswords.  The Heroes (and villains) are standing ten feet apart, creating a defensive line.

Ely lowers his blazing red eyes to the orcs as they approach.  With a mere thought, he lets out a devastating _horrid wilting_ spell, which obliterates about thirty of the orcs instantly; the moisture in their bodies evaporates leaving them as dried out husks of skin in metal armor.  The orcs don’t stop their charge, and they slam into the party.

They try to file around them, but are stopped dead.  Literally.

Ogrim slams his axe into the first one that reaches him, cleaving through three others, killing all four instantly.

Eltharion enters a lethal dance as the orcs approach him.  He cuts down three of them, each one taking two well-placed cuts from his Sun-sickle and Moon-scimitar.

Dendybar devastates the orcs as well, spinning in their midst unseen, he slashes six throats out.  The sight must be terrible to the other orcs, seeing the necks of their comrades being ripped out by an invisible force.

Ely swings his blade with exceptional strength and skill as well, cleaving through three and cutting down two more with a second swipe.

The orcs continue to file in, being summarily cut down.  From behind them, some thunderous footfalls could be heard.

Four 20 foot tall storm giants wade into the ranks of the orcs and approach the party.

Viknen takes this as his queue.

“Close your eyes mon!” he calls down to Ogrim and Eltharion, and his eyes once again turn into clear blue sapphires.  With a flash of blue light, one of the giants falls down asleep, toppling several orcs.

The storm giants are as well armored as the orcs.  Shiny plate mail and huge two-handed greatswords.  They continue their charge until they reach the party.

One of them hacks into Eltharion, knocking the wind out of him and opening a large cut along his arm.

One slashes into Ely, drawing a deep wound as well.  The last one stabs into Ogrim, jabbing into his stomach.  Ogrim grunts in pain.

From behind the giants, three armored drow females could be seen.  Each one carrying a writhing snake flail and heavy shield.

Ogrim, Eltharion, Ely and Dendybar strike back against the giants.  They score a few hits, but the sheer size of the giants keeps them standing and fighting at almost full strength.  The dark elf priestesses then heal the giants after the onslaught.

“We can’t win this, time for a tactical retreat,” Ogrim calls out, and the other nod.  “Meet up at Baron!”

Ogrim and Eltharion fly up out of the giant’s reach, but then two of the priestesses fly at them, meeting them in mid air.  They have out their snake flails and shields.

“Not so fast!” one of the female dark elves calls out in Undercommon.

One of them lashes out their flail, but Ogrim blocks it with his shield.  The other one’s flail bites into Eltharion, and he grits his teeth from the burning poison.

“Bitch,” Eltharion slashes into her, scoring six lightning-fast hits, sliding his blade under her adamantium armor.  She keels over in pain, holding onto her stomach.

Ogrim slams his axe into the priestess on him.  It cuts into her flank hard, and she is thrown back from the impact.

_The castle is lost.  Retreat to Baron._  The message enters their heads like a hammer.  Eltharion, Ogrim and Viknen’s stomachs drop simultaneously.

Down below, they could see Dendybar and Ely finish off one of the giants and start flying off in different directions.  Viknen flies up behind Eltharion and heals him.  They also see two dark elf wizards fly up to the giants and cast _fly_ on them.

“Okay, now it’s really time to go,” Ogrim says.

“Let’s split so they can’t follow,” Eltharion says.  He spins his blade and slashes one last time at the priestess, cutting her across the neck and killing her.  Her body falls to the ground, connecting with an orc soldier below. 

Ogrim flies west and Viknen north.  They speed off and don’t seem to be followed.  Ogrim heads back to the city to get a horse, since he felt the fly spell would be ending soon.  After about 15 minutes, he reaches the castle, and enters the stable.

The city below as he flew was devastated.  The two sections of wall that were removed were teeming with goblins.  Much of the city was burning, and there were dark figures, goblins, and insane looking kobolds everywhere.

Ogrim mounted the horse and rode as fast as he could toward the secret exit Adlai told them about.  He reaches it without incidence, and begins the ride south.

………….

Eltharion finishes off the priestess and starts to fly away as the other one approaches him.  He flies back to the castle, seeing the same thing Ogrim did; mass destruction and devastation.  He gets his horse from the stable and begins to ride south, out of the city.  As he approaches the city wall, a two goblins come stumbling out of a building nearby with loot.  They drop it and pull out shortswords.

Eltharion slashes one with his scimitar and overruns the other as he passes them by.  He reaches the castle wall and the secret exit.  He rides over the invisible bridge, across the moat, and begins the ride south to the beach.  After about an hour he reaches the beach, and meets up with some Brunswick civilians and soldiers walking along the beach to the east.

“How goes it?” Eltharion asks.

“We got as many people out as we could.  I don’t think the dark elves are following,” the guard responds.

Eltharion keeps riding past them, and finally catches up to Ogrim, who is riding alongside some civilians.

The castle is lost.  The dark elves have won.  Is the Dark Tide going to consume the world?  And what happened to Bloodthorne and Grog??


----------



## Droid101 (Dec 15, 2004)

Bloodthorne flies out over the city and toward the direction that the huge stones are pelting the walls from.  After a while of flying through the rain, Grog pipes up.

“How much farther!” Grog says.

“Can’t be too much… ah, there they are…” Bloodthorne says while carrying Grog through the air.

They could very faintly see a troupe of six 20 foot tall, bluish skinned storm giants standing in a row.  Each of them had a closed full metal helm with matching full plate armor, and huge greatswords.  They all had piles of large stones surrounding them to siege the castle with.

“You go in left, I go in right.  Distract them from throwing if you possibly can,” Bloodthorne sets Grog down, who starts running around to the left.  Bloodthorne flies low around to the right.

Soon, Grog is out of Bloodthorne’s sight.  The six giants standing in a row continue to throw rocks, not noticing Bloodthorne at all.

“Beautiful…” Bloodthorne says as he rubs his hands together.  He pulls out his two razor-sharp longswords and flies up behind the giant.  In one swift motion, he flies around to the front of the giant and slips his sword into the slit on the giant’s full helm.  The giant calls out in pain, swiping his hand out blindly, and the other hand goes to his face and pulls off his helmet.  Blood is pouring out of his left eye, and he falls to one knee.

Bloodthorne chuckles and casually flies down and stabs his blades repeatedly into the back of the giant’s neck.  The giant groans and collapses.

“Hey!  Get him!!” One of the other giant calls out, pointing to Bloodthorne.  Just then, another yell erupts from the other side of the line, a little too far for Bloodthorne to see, but he can assume.

“No wait, get him!” The giants start to turn their attention away from Bloodthorne.  One of them doesn’t, however; he throws a rock and hits Bloodthorne in the stomach.  Bloodthorne shakes it off and chuckles again.

“Don’t be goin’ after me little friend, I’m the one you want,” Bloodthorne uses his longswords as a huge pair of scissors, and cuts off the giant’s head he’s standing over.  He then picks up the head and flies up over the other giants.  He uses a foot at the base of the severed head and sort of animates it, doing a shoddy ventriloquist act.

“Look, I’m a big ugly giant too stupid to live,” Bloodthorne chuckles again.

“Help me with this one!” the giant who threw the rock at Bloodthorne gets another one’s attention, and they both throw a rock at him.  He dodges out of the way deftly, flying back a bit to make it a harder shot.  The giants don’t follow.

“You two, keep throwing.  You go after that goblin!” a giant is giving out orders to the others.

“That won’t do at all…” Bloodthorne uses his sword to cut the top off the head of the giant’s head he’s holding, and reveal its brain.  He then starts to shove the grey matter into his mouth.  “Mmmm, giant brain is sooo tasty!  Don’t you all want a taste?”

This sends the three giants who were organizing to continue sieging the castle into a rage-filled frenzy.

“PUT THAT DOWN YOU FILTHY HUMAN!!!!” the lead giant calls out as loud and angrily as he can, and starts running toward Bloodthorne.  The other two follow behind him.

Bloodthorne calmly flies backward, easily keeping pace so as to stay a bit ahead of the giants.  He keeps eating the brain and laughing. 

“Oh lord it tastes so good, really hits the spot.  Won’t you ‘ave some?” One of the giants was about to turn back to his post, but then Bloodthorne threw some of the brains down at them, hitting one of them in the face.

“Don’t let him get away!” the giant calls out, wiping the brains out of his eye.  Another of the giants takes out his greatsword and throws it at Bloodthorne, but it flies wide.  All three of them are yelling and screaming in rage.

Bloodthorne keeps flying backwards, and sees a couple of smaller forms fly up from the sides of the giants.  The forms touch two of the giants, who then take to the air and gain on him quickly.  Bloodthorne starts to fly straight up at full speed.

“Can you keep up?” Bloodthorne calls down.  They fly up for 5 minutes, and the air starts to become very cold.

“We gotta turn back…” one of the giants says.  Bloodthorne takes that as his queue, and punches himself in the stomach, sending all the stored up brains out of his mouth and all over the giant reluctant to follow.  Needless to say, he decided to press on, albeit with a few more curses thrown at Bloodthorne.

Bloodthorne chucks the head at them finally, losing the weight so he could fly faster.  Both giants keep flying, still enraged by the disrespectful actions of Bloodthorne.

Minutes pass.  The air grows colder and thinner.  The giants gasp their breaths.  Bloodthorne, being Curst and undead, keeps flying.  Icicles start to form on his and the giants’ extremities.

“I can go all night boys,” Bloodthorne says.  A flash of blue light is seen below, and one of the giants begins to fall.  Another flash, and the other giant falls from the sky.  Bloodthorne stops flying up, and comes to a stop in mid-air.  A smaller form is flying up at him.

Viknen.

“ ‘ello chap, thanks for the ‘elp,” Bloodthorne says.

“Let’s be flyin’ back down now den, it be cold up hea,” Viknen responds, his old bones chattering.  They start flying back down.

“What’d you do to our friends there?” Bloodthorne asks.

“De black magics be puttin’ dem to sleep!” Viknen replies.  “Everbody else be fleein’ to da Baron town.  We gotta be goin’ dere too.”

“So the castle is lost… a pity,” Bloodthorne says.  They fly north away from the battle, then curve around west, then south, to head to the southern peninsula of Baron.

After Viknen’s flight spell ends, Bloodthorne picks him up on his back and flies the rest of the way.  The soft rain a quiet chorus.

So… really… where is Grog?  What’s next?  Find out about juiced up kobolds, genetically engineered goblins, and other such goodness next time!


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## Droid101 (Dec 17, 2004)

Good news!

Sorry for the lack of daily posts as I used to do, been busy at work.

But anyway, to the good news.  I just finished my campaign!

After three years (we started when 3rd edition came out) and we're finally done.  From 1st level to 21st level!!  Yowza!

Just started my next campaign with the same players, too.  Takes place in the same world, but 100 years later.  Oooohhhh... just think about the possibilities....    

And, I'd like to announce my *contest*.  When I get near the end of my campaign in this story hour, I'm going to have a contest to see who can guess, with all certainty, which characters are PCs and which are NPCs.  I'll give various prizes if you get the closest out of all the guessers (I should imagine there will be like, three).  I'll give you a custom title or search function or whatever.  I'll decide on that later.

I'll post the characters who were/are with the party for various stretches below at this point.  Remember, I'm not holding the contest until later, so do your homework and read up now!!

Characters:

*Eltharion Ulthuan - Elf Ranger / Druid / Ancestral Avenger.  

Ogrim Oakenshield - Dwarf Fighter / Cleric of Moradin / Dwarven Defender / Templar.  

Bink the Sorcerer - Human Sorcerer / Wizard / Eldritch Master.

Grog of Grumbar - Goblin Barbarian. 

Bloodthorne - Curst Human Rogue  / Urostifter.    

Blaze Brague - Human Cleric / Mighty Contender of Tempus.  

The Necromancer - Human Wizard (Necromancer). 

Viknen Shadowdweller - Gnoll Adept / Hexer.

Balophan - Centaur Ranger.

Damaré - Human Fighter.

Senman - Human Fighter.

Jezda - Orc Fighter.

Trek-Donal - Human Monk / Zerth Cenobite.

Misani - Yuan-ti Tainted Human Psion (Egoist).
*


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## Droid101 (Dec 27, 2004)

*Interlude the Fifth…*

Kain, Drax and Faelean creep out of the cavern.  Faelean wears the bright yellow stone he acquired from the chest.  Drax’s acute lizardman senses alert him to a new danger.

“What is it?” Faelean asks.

“Something is cullllllllllll” a blade bursts out of Drax’s stomach from behind.  Kain was running him through.

“No!  Kain what are you doing!!” Faelean quickly tries to cast a spell to hold Kain in place.  Kain’s wood-elf eyes were completely empty.  Blank.  He pulls out his blade and stalks toward Faelean.  His frail grey-elven form was up against a wall with nowhere to run.

“I’ll be taking that stone…” Kain lowered his blade to Faelean’s neck and sneered.

The blade fell out of his grasp and clanged on the ground loudly.

“Not if I can help it…” Drax was up.  His insides slowly draining out of the huge wound in his stomach.  His clawed hands were around Kain’s neck, squeezing tightly.  A snap and Kain was dead.

“Drax…” Faelean says softly.

“I’ll be fine,” he slumps to the ground, holding his stomach…


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## Droid101 (Dec 27, 2004)

“Thanks for coming,” Adlai starts, looking around the room at everyone.  Ogrim Oakenshield, Eltharion Ulthuan, Bloodthorne, Viknen Shadowdweller, and Felix Stromdak are sitting around a table.  “I know this has been a trying week for everyone, and I’m just glad to see that you all made it here.

“You fought well.  No, we couldn’t hold the castle, but we did the best we could.”

“What is the king going to think once we get him out of that gem?” Eltharion jokes.

“He’ll be less than pleased, I imagine…” Adlai grumbles.  “Anyway, the King of Baron has been kind enough to allow the refugees from Brunswick to stay inside the walls of his kingdom along with the dwarves.  Just so long as we all help when the time comes to defend his kingdom from the dark elves.”

“We’ll do whatever we must,” Ogrim states.

“And so will we,” a voice comes from the door.  His brown hair is pulled back into a pony-tail, and he has a vest with a bunch of small empty pockets on it.  “As soon as someone gives me my throwing knives back.”

“Senman!!” Eltharion hops up and runs over, giving his old friend a hug.  “Haven’t seen you in ages!  What happened?”

Misani walks in behind him, her snake-tattoo wrapped around her body, and her eyes weary.

“Misani too!  What is this, bring the dead back to life day?” Adlai asks.

“Actually, yes.  The High Priest at Castle Brunswick saw that his castle was falling, so he decided to help as many people as he could escape.  He felt that we could help, as we were adventurers and such, so he raised us from the dead,” Senman explains.

“That’s great news.  I’m sure you’ll be able to help us greatly in the coming days,” Eltharion says.

“Anyway, if you two would like to have a seat, I could continue,” Adlai says.  “Now then, in the past couple of days, we’ve been quite busy.  I’ve been researching the prophecies, and I’ve found a few revelations that I’d like to share. 

“Firstly, the Dark Tides aren’t the dark elves.  I figured out what’s going to happen.  The prophecies say that two portals will open on our continent.  One portal to Hell, and one to the Abyss.

“You see where this is going.  The Blood War will continue as it has for centuries, but our continent will be a battleground for it.  The lands will be destroyed as the demons and devils clash.”

“This is not good,” Eltharion says.  “Is there any way to stop it?”

“That’s the good news.  In my translations, I’ve come across a possible solution.  You know the stone that King Brunswick got stuck inside?” Adlai asks.

“Of course,” Eltharion says.

“Well, it seems there are six stones in total.  One good stone, that’s Brunswick.  One evil, one fire, lighning, earth, and ice.  These six stones must be brought together.  Once they are brought together, the people or entities trapped within will be released, and the portals to Hell and the Abyss will close off forever.” Adlai explains.

“Sounds easy enough, we already know where one of the stones is,” Eltharion says.  “Damaré has it.”

“And he went off with Jezda to the giant’s stronghold…” Ogrim reminds everyone.

“That’s okay, we can scry or send him a message to get him to come back.  I already had the King of Baron send out a missive all across the continent to request that the stones be brought to Baron should anyone find them.  All we can do now is wait,” Adlai says.

“All right, let’s get a drink,” Ogrim says.

“Well hold on, I have more news to report,” Adlai continues.  “Not only have I been tirelessly translating ancient prophecies, I have also been doing research on our enemies.

“We captured a few of the goblins and kobolds, to see what we are dealing with, and let me tell you, it’s much worse than you might be thinking.  In the kobold’s bloodstream, we found some kind of substance.  We gave this substance to some rats and rabbits to see how they would react, and they went into a frenzy.  We cut into the animals, and they would not die.  Finally, after most of their blood had pumped out of their open wounds, they died.

“This substance is allowing the kobolds to survive being thrown by that huge giant.  It probably makes them think they can survive when they pull on the cord on their explosive pack, as well.  We’ve analyzed these explosives as well.  Tightly packed black power with a hint of magic.  Makes for some big fireworks.

“The goblins, on the other hand, have been altered in a different way.  Their skulls are twice as thick as normal, as are their ribcages.  They have been magically mutated into, well, super-goblins, for lack of a better word.”

“Drugged kobolds and super-goblins… Great,” Eltharion says.

“As of today, the dark elves have not moved from Castle Brunswick, but we’ll be keeping tabs on them, and we’ll let you know when we need you,” Adlai finishes.  “You may all go.”

It had been three days since the Battle for Brunswick.  Grog, The Necromancer, Blaze, and Blaine never arrived at Baron.  

“Do you think they made it out okay?” Eltharion asks Ogrim.

“They can take care of themselves,” Ogrim responds.

“Last I saw, Grog was runnin’ from the giants,” Bloodthorne says.

“We be seein’ our friends again soon, don’t you be worryin’,” Viknen says.  They walk to the Hippocampus, a popular tavern they frequent in Baron.

“A beer, would you mate?” Bloodthorne asks the barkeep from underneath his cowl.  He drinks it gingerly.

“You can’t taste or feel it.  Why are you drinking?” Eltharion asks.

“ ‘abit,” Bloodthorne leaves it at that.

The next few days are spend resting and relaxing.  Relating stories of Vecna, iron fortresses, alternate planes and whatnot to Senman and Misani, who missed out.

Eltharion and Ogrim found themselves at the Hippocampus once again, enjoying a drink.

“Have ye heard?  The Prophet comes!  He walks the land, spreading the good word about how we’re going to be turning back the dark elves.  How we’ll be stopping some demons!  I aint even know demons was our trouble!” a raving drunk babbles.

“The Prophet?  Explain yourself,” Eltharion interrogates.

“I jus’ did!  He’s tellin’ everyone that everything is gonna be workin’ out.  He’s got long white hair and people line up for miles to see him and hear his soothing words,” the drunk relates.

“I think I’d like to meet this Prophet,” Ogrim says.

“Ye’ll get yer chance.  He’s comin’ through Baron, I hear,” the drunk says.

“Good, I’ll be waiting,” Ogrim and Eltharion look at each other skeptically.

“A fake?” Eltharion asks Ogrim.

“Most likely,” Ogrim responds.

“How does he know about the demons?” Eltharion asks again.

“We’ll find out…” Ogrim takes another swig.

A week passes.  Tales of the Prophet grow louder and more common.  Many visitors from other cities arrive.  The kingdom is busier and more crowded than ever.

“Okay, a few adventurers have arrived from around the land.  They have answered King Baron’s call.  A few of them even posses the stones.  Soon, we’ll have all six,” Adlai says.  “King Baron will be holding a meeting tonight for all adventurers who are willing to fight for Baron.  Sort of a game-plan meeting.  I assume you’ll all be there.”

“Of course,” Eltharion says.

“Wouldn’t miss it…” Bloodthorne chuckles.

That night, the Heroes attend the meeting.  Viknen, Bloodthorne, Eltharion, Ogrim, Senman, Misani, Adlai, and Felix are there, along with all kinds of other adventurers from all other areas.  Orcs, humans, elves, everything.  Damaré walks in as well…

“Damaré!  It’s been a while!” Eltharion gives his friend a hearty handshake.  He sits down with them.

“Well, let me tell you what happened.  Jezda and I set off toward the giants in the far east.  We reached the eastern shore of the continent, and we saw a nearly-completed bridge there.  It went across the entire ravine to the island of the giants.  The patrols were too difficult to get passed, and I just received a missive from Adlai to return, so I came back.  Jezda stayed, however.  He said he was going to try to join the giant’s army, move up in the ranks, and hope he’d be given access to prisoners, to find Trek-Donal.  I have no idea what has happened to him since.  I hope he’s okay,” Damaré explains.

“Who are they?” Eltharion points at eight men cloaked in different color robes.

“Those are the royal wizards.  They are Baron’s own conclave of powerful magic-users.  Each one is a specialist in a different school of magic,” Adlai says.

“I’ve heard of them,” Eltharion responds.

A tall lizard man creature bursts in the door.  His green scales are scarred and cut all over.  He is half-carrying, half-dragging a small grey-elf with a stone around his neck.  They sit down at a table.

The King of Baron stands and raises up his hands.  He is a strong man, six feet tall with dark hair.  He wears an ornate crown.  He couldn’t be much older than 35.

“I’m glad to see you’ve all arrived safely.  I want to thank you all for coming on such short notice.

“These are dark times we live in.  Dark elves have taken over two cities already.  The dwarven stronghold, and Castle Brunswick.” The king starts.  Murmers wash over the attendees.

“But not to fear.  Baron is the stone wall they shall break against.  With the combined power of Brunswick, the dwarves, and all the most powerful adventurers in the land, we will hold them back and destroy them.  Let me show you how…”

The king steps back, and three servants push forward a large cart with a cloth over it.  The king pulls off the cloth and a huge grayish sphere is sitting on the cart.

“With the help of Adlai, we have developed these anti-magic spheres,” King Baron pulls out a small grey sphere.  “One this small, when broken, will create a small area, maybe ten feet, of anti magic.  No magic spells will function in that area.  This large one, however, will cover the entire kingdom in anti-magic.  This is our ace-in-the-hole.  When they are preparing their summonings and other spells, we will engulf them in anti-magic, and take them out.

“However, we know that this will render some of your services unnecessary.  You are welcome to stay in the confines of my country as long as you wish, or you may leave before the battle has started.  It is up to you.

“Now, the main reason I have summoned you, is to find the six stones of power.  These stones, when joined, will stop the opening of the portals that will lead to the Blood War pouring over into our world.  We have here in this room five of the six stones.  The only one that is missing is the stone of evil.  Please, you are all welcome to stay here in the Baron Capital City until we have all six stones together.

“As for the dark elves themselves.  We have learned many of their secrets.  They mutate and alter their number to be more powerful, unnaturally.  They use drugs and other mind-altering substances to fight on against overwhelming odds.  They use magic and slave races to do their bidding.  Which is why I wish to set an example for my people and make sure these things do not pollute our society.

“Drugs are hereby illegal.  As is slavery and magic.”

The gasps go up around the room.  One of the eight royal wizards stands.

“You presume to tell me that my ancient craft is illegal?” the white-robed wizard states.

“Yes.  You are all relieved of your positions.  We have no more need for you here in Baron,” the king says calmly, coolly.

“And we have no more need of you…” the wizard sneers.  Each of them stands, and they vanish in a burst of teleportation magic.

“Thank you for coming, please enjoy the food,” the king finishes, and walks off with his royal guardsmen.

“No magic.  That’s rough,” Eltharion says.

People start to mingle around the room.  Eltharion and Ogrim decide to go see the keeprs of the stones.

They meet a frail woman with a half-orc, a wood elf, and a human.  She is bearing the stone of fire.

“I am Melissa Moorgrane, very pleased to meet you.  I found this stone a while back, and a shaman once told me that I would have to be its keeper and protector.  And so I brought it here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Eltharion and Ogrim move on.  They encounter a very tall, blonde human wearing plate armor and carrying an ornate blood-red sword.

“I am Donovan Grumoile.  I found this earth stone a while back and have been holding onto it.”

“I’ve heard your name before…” Eltharion couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“I’m one of the founders of the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  Perhaps you saw my name there,” Donovan responds.

“That must be it,” Eltharion says.  They move on.  They meet a halfling traveling with an elf female, a human female, and another human male.

“My name’s Twigger.  My friends have protected me while I’ve been carrying this darned ice stone.”

“Nice to meet you,” and they move on.  The final stone, a bright yellow stone, is worn by a grey elf accompanied by a lizardman.

“The name’s Faelean,” the grey elf pipes up after a push in the back from his lizardman companion.  “And this is Drax.  He helped me recover the stone.”

The lizardman nods.  Eltharion and Ogrim nod back.

“Hope you guys enjoy your time in Baron,” Eltharion and Ogrim go back to their seats.

“Damn, we have five of the stones, where’s the evil stone?” Eltharion asks Adlai as they get back to their table.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.  The only one who knows the prophecies better than me is…” Adlai starts.

“Who??” Eltharion asks impatiently.

“Enzonito.”

Enzonito.  A name they hadn’t thought of in a long time.

………

_(Queue Flashback)

Before anyone else could manage to act, Enzonito took two long paces and leaped at Gryrtag.  Holding onto his small green glowing serpentine amulet with one hand, he reached out and touched Gryrtag with his other.  Both vanished as the space and time around them fluctuated._

………

“We haven’t seen him since he banished that devil when we were fighting against Iyachtu Xvim,” Eltharion says.

“Hey, that’s when we became friends,” Damaré adds, chuckling.

“Well, uh, yeah, exactly,” Senman says with a smirk at Eltharion and Ogrim.  They nod, understanding the joke.

“So he’s the only one who knows?  Time to scry him then,” Eltharion says to Adlai.

“I sure hope he’s all right…” Adlai says with hesitance.

Is Enzonito still alive?  Will the Heroes recover the final stone?  Can the Dark Tides really be stopped?  Who the heck is the Prophet???  Find out some answers, next update!!


----------



## Droid101 (Dec 30, 2004)

“Hm, bad news,” Adlai says to Ogrim, Viknen and Eltharion.  “I scryed Enzonito, and it looks like he’s trapped.  He’s in what looks like a solid white room.  He’s just sitting in there meditating.  I sent him a sending message, and he responded with ‘In Hell, send help, Gryrtag’s prisoner.’  Looks like you know what your mission is.”

“Wonderful, so now we have to go to Hell?” Eltharion sounds dejected.

“Indeed.  Once you all get back, hopefully he’ll know enough about the prophecies to be able to help us locate the final stone of power,” Adlai says.

“Let’s find Bloodthorne, he should go with us,” Ogrim states.

They go off and find Bloodthorne at the tavern drinking.

“I asked you before why you do that.  You’re dead!” Eltharion says.

“None of your business mate,” Bloodthorne responds.

“We need your help.  We’re going to Hell,” Eltharion says.

“Come get me when you’re ready to leave,” Bloodthorne replies.

Viknen retreats to his room for the rest of the afternoon.  Eltharion and Ogrim walk back to the tavern after escorting Viknen, and a huge crowd has gathered near the fountain.  Lots of talking and commotion is heard.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Ogrim asks a passer by.

“The Prophet is here!  He’s going to bring peace to the world!!” a fanatic babbles.

“Now we get some answers,” Eltharion says.  They wait in line to see the Prophet; and quite a line it is indeed.  They wait for almost an hour and finally, with the crowd dying down, they see the Prophet.

He has very long perfectly white hair.  He’s wearing pristine white robes and has a cross-like symbol around his neck.

“So you’re the Prophet?” Eltharion blurts out.

“Yes I am my children.  I have come to bring you hope in this seemingly bleak future,” the Prophet responds.

“You are saying that we will turn back the dark elf army?  And the demonic gates of the Dark Tide?” Eltharion asks.

“Absolutely.  With the gathering of the stones of power, the gates will never be realized.  And shortly after that, the brunt of the dark elf assault will falter, and Baron shall be victorious,” the Prophet speaks slowly and clearly.

“What makes you think you can be sure of all this?” Ogrim asks.

“I am the Prophet.  I have seen it,” he replies.

“I see…” Eltharion and Ogrim look at each other, perplexed.  With nothing further to ask, they nod and walk off.

“What do you think?” Ogrim asks.

“I don’t buy it.  How can he know we’ll win?” Eltharion asks back.

“Hmph,” Ogrim grunts, and they continue toward the tavern.

Adlai follows them in.

“News guys, come sit down,” Adlai says.

“What’s happening now?” Eltharion asks.

“Looks like people have been popping up all over the place with, well, white hair,” Adlai says.

“So?” Ogrim replies.

“They go to sleep one night, and wake up the next morning ‘inspired’ with this stark white hair.  They also have the ability to cast healing magic…” Adlai explains.

“Oh,” Ogrim nods.

“About four people have come forward.  Other people have started calling them ‘Prophecy Priests.’  We’ve been getting them all together and letting them stay in the castle so we can study them,” Adlai says.  “But there’s more.”

“And that’s not enough already?” Eltharion shakes his head.

“Well, I was having one of them cast some curative magic, just to see it for myself, and I accidentally dropped one of the anti-magic spheres on the ground next to him.  The spell went off anyway,” Adlai starts.  “So, this prompted more tests.  Looks like the Prophecy Priests are able to cast magic in our anti-magic, whereas all other magic is nullified.”

“Hm…” Ogrim thinks a moment.

“I know what you’re thinking, and the King of Baron plans to use it to our advantage.  We’ll let the large anti-magic sphere go when the battle starts, and we’ll still have support magic from these Prophecy Priests, while the dark elves will have no magic whatsoever.  That’s our ace-in-the-hole,” Adlai seems a bit excited.

“That’s great.  But I still don’t trust that Prophet guy, or his priests…” Eltharion sighs.

“Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.  You’re going after Enzonito tomorrow, right?” Adlai asks.

“Yes,” Eltharion responds.

The next day, Bloodthorne, Eltharion, Ogrim, and Viknen gather outside of the city.

“How are we supposed to get to Hell with no magic-user?” Eltharion asks, looking to each of them.

“It is time,” Viknen says as he holds out a bag.  He reveals it to be a plant of some kind.  He takes it over to a small campfire he had started before everyone arrived, preparing a pot with a few other ingredients.

He places them in and allows them to heat for a short time.  He sits down, beginning a low chant.  He motions to each of you to sit around him, forming a triangle, Viknen in the middle.  He begins to draw symbols in the dirt, strange earthen figures, not alike in form or geometry.  He fills a small crude cup, one for each of the Heroes and himself, with the liquid from the pot.

“Drink it now, it be losin’ da potency right quick!” he mutters as he tilts his cup back and drains one mouthful of greenish liquid.

The taste is terrible, and it’s difficult to swallow, but they do so.  Not so for Bloodthorne; he pours it in easily.

The slightly herbal, slightly magical concoction begins to take effect.

They can no longer tell if their eyes are open or closed.  Color, light, sound, feeling and thought begin to fade together.  In their sitting position, they feel as if they are falling back.  Tumbling back down father and father, not able to right themselves.  Vertigo; the word not making any real sense anymore as there is no up or down, there is no left or right, there is only falling.  Falling back into an endless space in time in the universe.  Colors begin to come back.  Red, green, blue, yellow, violet, indigo.  Then shades.  Light to dark, neon to pale, stripes and dots, spirals and stars; their vision is filled with all color simultaneously.

One color begins to overtake the others.  Red dissipates, green vanishes, yellow is disintegrated.  Slowly, black begins to destroy all color.  Soon, tendrils of black flow over the Heroes; they feel them brushing across their face; seemingly too weak to lift a hand to brush them away, they grit their teeth and deal with the silent onslaught…

Did the Heroes make it to Hell?  Or did Viknen just get them high?  Will they find Enzonito?  And hey, where has Bink been all this time??  Find out, next time!


----------



## Hairy Minotaur (Dec 30, 2004)

Droid101 said:
			
		

> Did the Heroes make it to Hell?  Or did Viknen just get them high?  Will they find Enzonito?  And hey, where has Bink been all this time??  Find out, next time!




I vote B!     

What do I win?


----------



## Droid101 (Dec 31, 2004)

Hairy Minotaur said:
			
		

> I vote B!
> 
> What do I win?



Not much, I'm afraid.  Viknen's not a junkie after all.


----------



## sandtiger (Dec 31, 2004)

Wow, I am really enjoying the curve you just gave us.  I dunno if I would trust the "no magic" zone since it appears healing works.  Do you normally have "divine" magic in this world or is it strictly "arcane"?

I will also admit, I don't really know which characters are PC vs NPC.  There are a few I would think are real, but I can't even quarantee that.  

I will also be saddened if/when you end this thread.  I missed it terribly when you weren't posting as often (bad work, bad! ).  

Thanks again for writing this.

Sandtiger


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 2, 2005)

sandtiger said:
			
		

> Wow, I am really enjoying the curve you just gave us.  I dunno if I would trust the "no magic" zone since it appears healing works.  Do you normally have "divine" magic in this world or is it strictly "arcane"?



There is a divine and an arcane difference.  Divine and arcane magic both don't work in the antimagic, but those white-haired Prophecy Priests' magic DOES work.  So perhaps it's something different altogether...



			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> I will also admit, I don't really know which characters are PC vs NPC.  There are a few I would think are real, but I can't even quarantee that.



You've got time to sort it out.    



			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> I will also be saddened if/when you end this thread.  I missed it terribly when you weren't posting as often (bad work, bad! ).



As far as I can tell, it'll never end.  My new campaign is in the same world, but 100 years later.  I just started it, and after just the first session, there have already been 3 or more pretty good references to this campaign.  Trust me, it'll be good.  Would I lie?    



			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> Thanks again for writing this.
> 
> Sandtiger



Thanks for reading!!!


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 6, 2005)

Their eyes open.

Barren wastelands.  Volcanic explosions.

It was Hell all right.

“We be makin’ it all right.  Now den, we gotta be findin’ dis friend ‘o yours,” Viknen says as he slowly stands.

“That was crazy,” Eltharion says, looking to Bloodthorne and Ogrim.

Off in the distance they could see what looks like a huge white column rising up into the black-clouded sky.

“Let’s move, that’s as good a place as any to go,” Ogrim points to the column, and they start for it.

Off in the distance they could see horrible shapes moving.  Demons, devils, all fighting.

“Hope they don’t notice us,” Eltharion says.

A small green form could be seen flying in their direction.  Eltharion squints his eyes and peers up.  It starts to fly in a little faster.

“Something’s coming…” Eltharion readies his Sun-sickle and Moon-scimitar.  The others similarly ready their weapons.  Viknen cast _fly_ on Eltharion and Ogrim.  Those two and Bloodthorne flew up to the level of the thing.

“Bring it on, then,” Bloodthorne chuckled as he spun his two longswords.

The creature finally came close enough to identify.

Drelhornsdrathdin.

……

_(Queue Flashback)

Partially surrounded, the dragon turned to Eltharion.  _I hope you know how to swim, morsel_, the dragon thought.  It took to the air and flew at him fast, too fast.  Eltharion had no time to jump into the river first.  The dragon placed a giant clawed hand into Eltharion’s body and pushed him into the river, diving in with him.

Blaze cast _gate_, opening a portal directly under the surface of the water.

“I banish you to HELL,” Blaze said with authority.  And so he did.

Eltharion and the dragon were expelled onto dry land, surrounded by barren gray wastelands.  Firey explosions and volcanic activity could be seen off in the distance.  The sky was covered in dark, black clouds.  Eltharion and the dragon fell to the ground quite unceremoniously._
……

“Uh oh…” Eltharion muttered.

“I knew I’d get my chance at you, morsel,” the dragon’s voice boomed out over the barren landscape.  Another form flew in from the side.  A form glowing in brilliant rainbow colors…

…and Bink cast _web_ on the the green dragon.  The webbing stuck to its wings and kept him from flapping.  The dragon let out a loud roar as it plummeted to the ground.  Viknen staggered backward at the impact, but stayed standing.  Eltharion, Ogrim, and Bloodthorne decended instantly upon Drelhornsdrathdin.

Bink let out a _lightning bolt_ at the dragon, which howled in pain again.  Bloodthorne’s blades slashed and sliced, digging deep past the thick scales of the huge dragon.  Eltharion unleashed a flurry, and Ogrim slammed into the dragon with a few well-placed hits with his Orc-Killer axe.  Combine all that with Bink’s pretty constant _magic missiles_, and Drelhornsdrathdin let out its final roar.

Eltharion stabbed him one last time for good measure, then looked over to Bink.

“What are you doing here!” Eltharion shook his friend’s hand heartily.

“I’ve got business in Hell.  Actually, I just found a path to the Second Level of Hell, and that’s where I’m going,” Bink replies.

“We’re trying to find Enzonito.  We think Gryrtag is keeping him prisoner.  You want to come with us?” Eltharion asks.

“No, I’ve got my own things to attend to, but I’ll go with you to the Second Level.  I think that’s where Gryrtag’s palace is anyway,” Bink responds.

“Gryrtag’s palace… great…” Eltharion mumbles.

They continued on toward the white column.  As they approached, they could see what looked like a staircase on it, along with a huge hole below it, with a golden-red glow coming from it.  A huge city sprawled out in the hole, and so the Heroes flew down, avoiding the staircase, as many strange and hideous forms were ascending or decending it.

They bid Bink farewell, and quickly touched ground and headed for an alley.  The cobblestones were made of brass, and they were burning hot.  Ogrim’s boots were thick, and Bloodthorne couldn’t feel it anyway, but Eltharion and Viknen had to fly along next to them.

The brass buildings were hot to the touch as well.  They avoided what strange creatures they could as they found an alley.

“So, how do we find Gryrtag?” Eltharion asks Ogrim and the others.

“I’m not sure.  Perhaps we should ask someone?” Ogrim answers.

“Devil hunting?” a man with a snake’s tail instead of legs slithers past them down the alley, and pushes open a wall and goes down some stairs, motioning the Heroes to follow…

Will they find Gryrtag’s palace?  How can they get in?  How can they kill him?  How can they find Enzonito?  How can they succeed??  Find out, next time…


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 11, 2005)

“Sssso, are you looking for sssome weaponssss?” the half-man, half-snake thing hissed as they entered a small, nondescript room.  A few wooden boxes sat by the walls.

“Perhaps… what ‘ave you got?” Bloodthorne asks.

“If it’ssss devilsss you’re hunting, and why elssssse would people like you be in Hell, then I can help,” he says.

“So how can you help us?” Eltharion asks.

“Take a look at my waresssss…” the snake thing hands Eltharion a piece of paper.  It reads…

_1.	Scrolls of Holy Aura – 1600
2.	Scrolls of Cloak of Chaos – 1600
3.	Holy Water Flasks – 50
4.	Scrolls of Magic Circle Against Evil – 850
5.	Scrolls of Magic Circle Against Law – 850
6.	Scrolls of Greater Magic Weapon (Holy) – 1200
7.	Silver Longswords, Shortswords, Battleaxes, Scimitars, Daggers, Greatswords, Greataxes, Halberds and Maces – 500
8.	Scrolls of Spell Immunity (Power Word: Stun, Meteor Swarm, Power Word: Kill, Suggestion) – 1600
9.	Scrolls of See Invisibility – 1200
10.	Scrolls of Spell Resistance – 1200
11.	Scrolls of Anti-Magic Field – 1200
12.	Scrolls of Neutralize Poison – 1200
13.	Scrolls of Invisibility Purge – 1200
14.	Scrolls of Spell Turning – 1200
15.	Scrolls of Protection from Elements (Fire) – 800
16.	Scrolls of Dimensional Anchor – 800_

The Heroes conferred, and came up with a list of what they wanted.

“Okay, we want one scroll of Holy Aura, one of Cloak of Chaos, and one of Spell Immunity.  We also want two scrolls of Protection from Fire,” Eltharion says.

“I’ll be ‘avin’ two silver longswords,” Bloodthorne says.

“I’ll take a silver battleaxe,” Ogrim states.

“We’ll take five flasks of holy water, too,” Eltharion adds.

“Okay, that comesssss to… 6700 gold…” the snake-man says.

The Heroes empty their sacks and pouches.  They gather up all the platinum they can find.  Any random gems, jewels, or other such valuables.  They even throw in a couple of magic items they hadn’t used in a long time.

“Thissss will be enough.  If you don’t mind me assssking, which devil are you going after?” the yuan-ti asks.

“His name is Gryrtag, he’s a general here, so we have heard,” Eltharion says.

“Oh yesssss, of coursssse he issss.  As a matter of fact, I think I might have a proposition for you.  Sssstay here…” the yuan-ti slithers out of the small room.

“Think we can trust him?” Eltharion asks.

“We don’t got no reason to not be trustin’ him, now den?” Viknen says.

After about fifteen minutes, the yuan-ti returns.

“I have sssspoken to my contact, and they would like to offer you something.  My contact workssss for Baalzebul.  As you may or may not know, Baalzebul and Disssspater, the ruler of the sssecond, are bitter enemiessss.  Baalzebul isssss willing to pay you ssssubssstantially for slaying one of Dissspater’s generals.  If you ssssuccessssfully slay Gryrtag, you will be rewarded with 10,000 gold pieces, plus any bonus he sseesss fit to give,” the yuan-ti says.

The Heroes look at each other for a minute.

“Deal,” Eltharion says.

“Excellent.  Now, if you want to approach Gryrtag’s keep, you’ll need a plan.  Busting in the front door will get you killed fasssst.  If you want my advice, seek audience.  Ssssince he is ssssomething of an overssseer in these partsss, ssome folk go to him for problemsss or dissputess to be ssolved.  Problem iss, if you look like, well, heroic, you’ll never be admitted.  You have to make yourselvesss look more… well… evil.  You’re fine,” the yuan-ti points to Bloodthorne.  

“As are you,” he points at Viknen.  “You two, however, need to look more dastardly.  High elves aren’t welcome in Disss, nor are those who worship Moradin,” he points to Ogrim’s holy symbol.

“If you ssseek audience, you’ll need a problem or dispute.  It needss to be ssomething urgent and something important to get his full attention and gain you admittance,” the yuan-ti finishes.

“Thank you for your help.  I think we can handle the rest,” Eltharion says.  “We will be leaving the city directly after the job is done, so how will we get our reward?”

“It will be delivered to your dwelling.  Where do you live?” the yuan-ti asks.

“We have the large house in Sigil on 1st street,” Ogrim replies.

“It will be done,” the yuan-ti says.

And the Heroes set out into the city of Dis.  Viknen must recast _fly_ every so often so he and Eltharion don’t touch the hot brass.  They approach a marketplace of sorts.  All kinds of spiny, spikey, hairy, scaly, horned, and any other adjective that can be thought of describe the salesmen.

“We’re emissaries from Archon, here to strike an alliance in the Blood War with Dispater,” Bloodthorne says.  “So we need to look the part.  Let’s go shopping.”

Will the Heroes be stylin’?  Will the plan work?  Can they get close enough to Gryrtag and find Enzonito?  Is it wise to accept money from a devil?  Find out next time!


----------



## Sandain (Jan 11, 2005)

I am still reading and still enjoying.  Are the PC's character sheets listed anywhere?


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 11, 2005)

Sandain said:
			
		

> I am still reading and still enjoying.  Are the PC's character sheets listed anywhere?



No, no sheets available right now.  I can however post the character's levels and stats at the current time.  Ask any specific questions you want and I'll be happy to answer.

*Bloodthorne - Curst Human Rogue 13 / Urostifter 3  *_S18 D18 C0 I18 W16 Ch16_*

Ogrim Oakenshield - Dwarf Fighter 8 / Cleric of Moradin 1 / Dwarven Defender 9 * _S18 D14 C22 I13 W15 Ch12_*

Viknen Shadowdweller - Gnoll Adept 8 / Hexer 10 * _S7 D5 C8 I16 W23 Ch13_*

Eltharion Ulthuan - Elf Ranger 5 / Druid 5 / Ancestral Avenger 8 * _S18 D24 C12 I13 W15 Ch12_


----------



## Sandain (Jan 12, 2005)

Hello,

Can you tell me what these are please, and what sourcebooks they are from?

Curst Human
Urostifter
Ancestral Avenger


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 12, 2005)

Sandain said:
			
		

> Can you tell me what these are please, and what sourcebooks they are from?
> 
> Curst Human
> Urostifter
> Ancestral Avenger



A fabulous question.

A Curst is an undead template in the "Monsters of Faerun" book.  Basically, in Forgotten Realms literature, these "Cursts" could be created through powerful wizardry.  Essentially, a Curst can never die.  It regenerates all damage (albiet, pretty slowly) no matter what the source.  It says that only divine intervention, or the one who created the Curst can ever truly kill it.  And the one who created Bloodthorne is long dead.  Pretty interesting little template.  Here it is in its entirety:

*Hit Dice:* Change all hit dice to d12 as undead.
*AC:* +3 Natural Armor
*Spell Resistance: * 12 + Character Level
Undead Traits as normal, except that he can be healed via normal healing magic.  Negative energy heals him as well.
*Regeneration:* Regenerate 1 hp per level per hour.  So 10th level curst would regen 10 hp per hour.  Regenerates all lost limbs.  If head is cut off, body disintegrates and a new one grows out of the head.
_Cold and Fire Immunity
Turning Immunity
No Constitution Score (As undead)
No sense of smell_


Urostifter is a three level prestige class from the "Complete Swashbuckler" or whatever it's called.  Older book by a thrid party company.  Forgot the exact name of the book.  But the class gets the ability to use two longswords as if one of them was light (so only -2 to each attack), and it focuses on insults, which lets them use a bluff check to make their opponent flat footed for the round as a Move action, instead of a standard action.  It gets some sneak attack damage in there as well.

The Ancestral Avenger requires you to be elf or half-elf, +5 base attack, Wilderness Lore 3 ranks, Alertness, Iron Will, and Tracking feats.  It gets a fighter attack progression, good Fort and Will saves, d8 hit points, and 2 skill points per level.  It was from January 2001 Dragon Magazine.  By level 10, he'll have the following abilities:

*Underground Tracking * - He can track underground with no penalty for poor visibilty, and treats hard surfaces as firm surfaces for purposes of the DC for tracking.

*Drow/Spider/Demon Bane* - He gains a +3 to hit and +3d6 damage when attacking drow/spiders/demons.

*Poison Resistance* - +10 bonus to save against drow sleep poison or any spider poison.

*Overcome Spell Resistance * - +2 bonus to overcome drow spell resistance.

*Webwalking* - Can move through webs as though he has a _freedom of movement_ spell cast on him.

*Drowic Change* - Can change into a drow, as if he used _alter self _ spell.

*Spell Resistance* - Spell resistance equal to character level plus 10, like a drow.

Hope this was informative.  Any other questions are welcome!


----------



## Hairy Minotaur (Jan 12, 2005)

Oooh.. shopping in hell.

Is there a snowball on the merchandise list?

Do the mage robes come with armor spikes?


Still a great story! Keep it up.


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## Droid101 (Jan 13, 2005)

Bloodthorne donned an extra black and red cape.  Ogrim’s beard was dyed black, and braided with tiny skulls.  His holy symbol was hidden.  Eltharion was dressed in a simple black robe, concealing himself entirely.  Viknen’s tattered robes were replaced by a formed cloak and robe, with high-flying shoulders and a wide, flowing base.

They were ready.

“All right, ‘ere’s the plan.  We’ll announce ourselves as emissaries from Archon, for Imperagon.  We’ll go in.  If he asks for details of our plan, or what we wish, I’ll pull out one of the scrolls and use it.  Once I do that, that’s the queue to attack,” Bloodthorne finishes.

“Simple enough, let’s get going,” Eltharion says.

They head through the hot metal city of Dis toward the location they were given.  They arrive at a fairly large looking ornate palace.  The outside of which is surrounded by a fairly large wall.  A devil resembling a huge fly twitches by the gate.

“We are from Archon, and ‘ave been sent by the great Imperagon to propose an alliance across the planes with the mighty Dispater.  Gryrtag was our given contact,” Bloodthorne lies.

“Wait here,” a high pitched voice answers, and the fly-devil flies over the wall and into the palace.  After about five minutes, it emerges, and opens the gate.

“Enter, and be quick about it,” the fly says.  The Heroes walk on in.

A long hallway stretches before them.  The walls are carved with reliefs of Gryrtag doing all kinds of horrific acts.  His bust is on pillars to either side of them.  They reach a large room.

The room has lush carpeting and a fine throne.  Upon which sits Gryrtag the Pit Fiend himself.  His bat-like red wings stretch out behind him, and his horns jut out ominously.  His teeth show in a half scowl as the Heroes enter.

To either side of the throne is an iron statue of Gryrtag, as well.  Next to the one on the right, there is a lever…

“So, Imperagon sent you?  I haven’t heard his grovelings for a while now.  I figured he gave up his quest for interplanar domination, the fool,” Gryrtag’s deep, chilling and overall grating voice runs down the Heroe’s spines.

“Yes, our master Imperagon has a new proposal, if you would please,” Bloodthorne pulls out a scroll of Magic Circle Against Evil, and pretends to read.  “Firstly, the territories present in Archon shall ‘eretoby be named _githku-arianthatelden’duk desdar_.”

But of course, the last words Bloodthorne spoke weren’t any name.  They were the incantation written on the scroll, and so the spell went into effect.  A white circle surrounded Gryrtag, who immediately stood, outraged.  But he couldn’t move, the circle kept him stationary in an invisible cage.

“I can’t believe that worked…” Bloodthorne looks on in amazement.  Ogrim and Eltharion immediately throw off their robes.  Viknen casts _haste_ on Eltharion.  The two iron statues of Gryrtag start moving toward them.

Eltharion sprints right at the lever, and grabs onto it and tries to pull it down.  Just as he does so, one of the iron statues grabs onto the lever and Eltharion’s hands, pulling back up.  So their struggle began.

Ogrim charges at the other iron statue, axe and shield at the ready.  Bloodthorne does the same.

“Kill them!  Guards!!” but Gryrtag’s voice goes unanswered, his great hall too long for the outside guards to hear.

Ogrim’s axe chews into the iron readily, but the statue keeps attacking.  A heavy fist falls onto Ogrim’s head, which rattles him.  Another slams into Bloodthorne’s side, but he mostly ignores hit, but the snapping of ribs can be heard.

Eltharion pulls down with all of his might, but it only moves a couple of inches.  The iron statue’s grasp is strong, and Eltharion can feel his fingers cracking from the pressure.  Blood begins to pour out of his hands and drain out off the lever onto the floor.

“Oh no you don’t, he’s MINE,” Gryrtag yells as he unleashes a _Power Word_: “STUN!”  However, Eltharion is unaffected, due to the scrolls they had bought and used.

“You take this one, I’ll get the devil,” Ogrim states as he backs off the iron statue.  He approaches the magic circle, and enters his ancient dwarven defensive stance.  His feet placed the perfect distance apart, he launches several attacks through the magic circles protection, slamming into Gryrtag’s legs, who has no room to maneuver.

“Die you filthy dwarf!” Gryrtag spouts in rage.  He’s unable to retaliate due to the circle’s protection.

Eltharion pulls the lever down another couple of inches.  He can’t feel his hands anymore; he knows all the bones are broken.  He just grits his teeth and pulls even harder.

Bloodthorne dances and weaves around the iron statue, dodging the powerful swings, and delivering several cuts with his enchanted longswords.

Viknen calmly flies over and _hastes_ Bloodthorne.

“You petty mortals… DIE!!” Gryrtag unleashes four meteors, which crash into the ground and explode violently.  The room fills with smoke and fire, and the sound reverberates off the walls.  The smoke clears…

…and nobody is injured.

“I’m not a mortal, mate,” Bloodthorne corrects Gryrtag as he chops through the arm of the iron statue, removing it completely.  It thumps to the ground and stops moving.  The statue continues to swing at Bloodthorne with its remaining arm.

“AHHHH!” Eltharion lets out a mighty yell as he heaves the lever all the way down.  The wall behind the throne vanishes, revealing a pure white room.  Enzonito is sitting, cross legged, in the middle of the white chamber.

“Finally…” Enzonito says calmly.  However, the calm is broken in an instant as he charges Gryrtag.  He delivers a powerful flying kick, and then a flurry of punches, kicks, headbutts, knees, sweeps, backhands, uppercuts, jabs, and chops.

With a final jump and spinning kick, his foot slams into Gryrtag’s face, spinning his head around…

…snapping his powerful spine and sending him slumping to the ground.

Ogrim and Bloodthorne surround the one-handed iron statue, finishing it quickly.

Eltharion backs off, holding onto his bleeding and broken hands as Enzonito quickly finishes off the other Gryrtag statue with his mighty katana blade.

“Quick, the alarms are off, we have to get out of her NOW,” Enzonito says as they start running out of the palace.  They reach the end of the hall and bust open the doors.

Outside, they can see what looks like fifty or more of the fly-looking devils flying down upon their location from every angle.

“Hang on…” Enzonito grasps his emerald green serpentine amulet, and all five of them are _plane shifted_ back to the Prime…

…only to find themselves floating in the ocean.

“Damn, it’s cold!  Vik?” Eltharion says.

“Stay close now den…” Viknen casts _teleport_ and the Heroes are safe back at the inn at Baron.

“Water…” Enzonito immediately graps Eltharion’s wineskin and downs its contents entirely.

“You okay?” Eltharion asks.

“I haven’t had any food or drink in… well… a long time…” Enzonito answers.  “Over a month now.  I don’t know.  I calmed my mind with meditation, so I’m not really sure how long I was in there.”

“So what happened after the last time we saw you?” Ogrim asks.

“Well, I teleported Gryrtag and myself to Hell, to get him away from all of you.  So, once we go there, we started one great pitched battle.  He’d fly off, cast spells, and keep flying, staying well out of my reach.  Finally, I backed off, to give him a false sense of security.

“Now, mind you, this battle was going on for days, and over miles and miles of terrain.  Finally, I followed him back to his palace.  I charged him.  I noticed he had on a peculiar amulet…” Enzonito holds out a small black stone around his neck.  “So I stole it.  While I was running out of the place, I made a wrong turn and ended up in that cell.  It blocked all kinds of planar travel, so I was truly stuck.

“He was going to keep me in there until I died of starvation, I guess.  Then he could go in and steal back his amulet.  Little did he know, I mastered my body and mind.  He couldn’t break me.”

“Now hold on, is that stone what I think it is?” Eltharion asks.

“It’s one of the six stones of power they talk about in the prophecies.  Supposedly, if you…” Enzonito is cut off.

“Yeah, we know, we’re actually looking for that stone.  All five other stones have already been gathered!” Ogrim states, a little more excitedly than normal.

“Really?  That’s great news!  Let’s tell the king as soon as possible!”  Enzonito seems ecstatic.

Next time: The Gathering of the Stones.


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 14, 2005)

Viknen, Eltharion, Ogrim and Bloodthorne listen to a few stories from Enzonito as they await the morning.

He relates world after world being overrun by evil or some other primal forces, his amulet the only thing keeping him from joining those worlds’ fates.  He also mentions something about never having seen anybody else be able to juggle five daggers, but leaves the point at that.

Their recent employ to the Lord of the Seventh, Baalzebul, is quite unexpected.  Enzonito explains that if there is one thing about devils, they will keep their word.  But they expect the same from who they deal with, or there will be swift retribution.  Perhaps the alliance can prove to be more fruitful in the coming months.

Viknen also looks better than ever.  It seems like he was made for the adventuring life.  Standing by idly for so long was probably what was taking the biggest toll on his physique.  Being out on the road again has been invigorating for him.

The stone around Enzonito’s neck has begun to levitate off, pointing in the direction of the castle, almost trying to pull itself toward the other stones.

The meeting spot for the ceremony is to the south of the Capital City, out in a patch of farmland, just in case there is a violent reaction.

The bearer’s of the stones are permitted to bring their entourage, but those close friends are the only others allowed to watch the proceedings.

Once again, the halfing and his female companions, the frail woman and her two friends, the grey elf and lizardman, the paladin Donovan, Damaré, Misani and Senamn, along with Ogrim, Viknen, Bloodthorne, Eltharion, Enzonito, Adlai, Felix, the dwarven king, and King Baron, are gathered.

Each stone is placed apart, forming a circle around a central location.  The bearers of the stones have to actually hold onto them at this point, or they’d fly into each other.  The king begins to speak.

“When the Prophet arrives, you shall all release your stones!” King Baron says emphatically.

The ensuing silence could almost be cut with a blade.  All were uneasy, as none knew what to expect from the coming together of these objects of legend.  None knew what would happen.

The silence was pierced, however, by a chanting.  Low and monotonous.  A tune none of the people present had heard before.  The Prophet; his gowns almost glowing, they were so white compared to the dark and dreary dusk light.  He had two other stark-white-haired individuals with him, the ones doing the chanting.  His presence was almost unsettling; some hidden power must have been at work.  He and his two followers walked to the center of the circle.

“So have you all suffered to bring the stones together.  So you shall all feel assuage as your mutual suffering ends.  So shall evil be exterminated from the face of Aldor-Valencia.  So shall we be triumphant, together,” the Prophet bows his head and motions for everyone to release their stones.

The stones all fly together extremely quickly, clashing with a small but loud explosion above the head of the Prophet.  The glow from their combined state intensifies until everyone is forced to look away; the brightness grows exponentially.

Ogrim’s teeth grind together as he resists a wrenching in his head, as if all was falling, and fast.  The headache that ensues is the most powerful he’d ever experienced.

Eventually the glow subsides, and the Prophet is holding a fully-formed stone in his hands.  Around him, in a smaller circle than the location of all the sonte bearers, are five new forms.

One is instantly recognized as King Wallace Brunswick, his raven hair blowing lightly in the night air.

Another is a fully black cloaked individual, his face hidden by his arm pulling his cape up over it.  Only his blood red eyes and pale skin could be made out.

Another is a pillar of water, which quickly sprouts four tendrils of water; two of them supporting him as legs, the other two like snaking arms.

The next form is a gray rock, taller than anyone present, which begins to roll just as it appears.

The fifth and final form is a human, but his skin is tinted red and his hair is flowing like fire.  His hands are instantly encircled by fire as he materializes.

Just as all these forms appear, a bolt of lightning streaks from where the sixth form should have been, striking some of those in the outer circle before shooting off in another direction.  As that happens, the dark cloaked form vanishes, the boulder rolls off in a different direction past Donovan, and the watery form dissipates into the soil.  The only two remaining forms are the firey man and Wallace Brunswick.  

Ogrim looks around and notices that the dwarven king, Donovan, and the grey elf are similarly holding their heads as if some fierce migraine had hit all of them simultaneously.

Why?  The thought donned on him instantly.  All the people clutching their heads had holy symbols on their persons. 

The Prophet’s eyes were no longer their normal crisp and clear blue, but now stark white like his hair and garments.

“The stone must be protected or the demons and devils would once again be able to invade.  Judgement for all, mortals and Gods alike, is at hand.  ‘The Trials’ have begun.  So has the Prophecy spoken,” the Prophet begins to become insubstantial and starts to rise into the sky.  As soon as this starts, only a pillar of light remains, and the Prophet is gone.

The stone is left in the care of the two Prophecy Priests, who place it in an ornate box and begin to leave the circle of people.

“Did he say what I think he said?” Eltharion looks to Ogrim, who is still in a little bit of pain.

“Aye.  The Gods are on Aldor-Valencia.  They are no longer Gods until they prove themselves worthy…” Ogrim states flatly.

“And what does that make the Prophet?” Eltharion asks, looking around at anybody who would listen.

“The only true God.”


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 20, 2005)

“So, according to the prophecies and a little input from the now-ascended Prophet, you’ve figured it out?” Eltharion asks impatiently.

“Well, not exactly.  It’s really tough to decipher all this these ancient texts,” Adlai responds.  “But this is what I know.  The Prophet has cast all the Gods down here to our plane of existence.  They have lost all their Godly powers, and only retain mortal-like abilities.  From what I understand, they have shown up in places where their following is greatest.

“For instance, Moradin appeared with the King of the dwarves, and is currently residing in Baron Castle with him.”

“Did you say Moradin?” Eltharion says incredulously.

“You got it.  That’s the good news.  The bad news is, for example, Lloth is probably teamed up with the dark elves, making the battle to come a little more interesting,” Adlai says.  “But from what I’ve gathered, the prophecies say that anyone can become a God during this time, not just those who have fallen.  If you prove yourself a master of a certain aspect of life, you can ascend once again.  Look for the Gods who have fallen to do anything and everything they can to further their cause and re-gain Godhood.”

“I’ve got an idea, we should try to round up all the good Gods and have them help us!” Eltharion says.

“Good idea,” Ogrim adds.

“True.  There’s a few things pending, then.  We still need to find Grog and the others who never made it back from the Battle at Brunswick.  I need to continue to decipher the prophecies to try to help in the upcoming battle, or just see what’s coming.  And we can look for Gods to come help us,” Adlai says.

“I’ll go find the others, we need to find Grog as our first priority,” Eltharion says.

Eltharion rounds up Bloodthorne and Ogrim.  They go find Viknen.

“I tink me old bones be needin’ a rest, now den,” Viknen says without rising.

“That’s fine.  You’ve been more than a help to us so far, get your rest,” Eltharion says.  He looks back over to Ogrim and Bloodthorne.  “We’ll head out tomorrow.”

They head over to the castle to see what they can see for the rest of the day.

“How have you all been?” Wallace, the king of Brunswick asks.

“Pretty good.  What was it like being stuck in that gem?” Eltharion asks.

“Very strange.  But it’s good to be out,” Wallace says.  “And I heard you lost my castle to dark elves while I was gone.”  He looks sternly at the Heroes.

“But, it… we tried!” Eltharion stammers.

“I know, I’m just kidding with you.  You did what you could.  We’ll get it back, worry not,” Wallace says.

“Something’s coming!!” a guard runs in the room shouting.  He continues to run through the castle.

“Oh great, not a moment’s peace…” Ogrim grunts.  They head out of the castle.  Approaching them looks like a hundred mounted forms with spears and other sorts of weapons.

"How did they… wait a minute…” Eltharion looks quizzically at the creatures approaching.  They weren’t mounted at all, they were centaurs.

“Ho there, friends!” one of the centaurs comes forward.  They Heroes instantly recognize him as Balophan, the centaur that helped them defeat Vecna.

“Old friend!” Eltharion shakes Balophan’s hand heartily, as does Ogrim.  Bloodthorne nods with a goofy grin on his face.

“We heard that the forces of darkness were about to decend upon the Kingdom of Baron.  I could not stand idly by.  If they took Baron, they would sweep across all of Aldor-Valencia.  We cannot let that happen.  We are here to offer our help in the impending battle,” Balophan says.

“That’s great news!  We’ll let King Baron know.  You’re welcome to stay out in the fields alongside the dwarven and Brunswick refugees,” Eltharion says.

“Thank you, we shall be ready for a call to arms,” Balophan says as he leads his massive group of centaurs out of the Capital City.

“Things are looking better and better.  Anti-magic that the Prophecy Priests can cast through, extra help from Brunswick and dwarf soldiers, and now centaurs.  We can’t lose!” Eltharion sounds ecstatic.  Adlai joins the group from the castle.

“Quick report, follow me,” Adlai leads them to his lab, where Senman, Misani, and Damaré are waiting.  “Okay, just wanted to let you guys know what we’re up to here in the labs.  The dwarves have helped us develop some firearm-type weapons.  We’ve coupled that with a heavy cavalry of Baronian soldiers for a deadly combination.”

“Sounds good.  Tomorrow, we’re going to search for Grog, so that’s where we’ll be, in case you need to know,” Eltharion says.

“All right, see you later then,” Adlai says as he dismisses everyone.

The following day, Bloodthorne, Eltharion, and Ogrim head north out of the Baron Capital City to the Great Wall.  After a day on horseback, they leave the kingdom and head north.

“I remember Grog runnin’ north of the Battle at Brunswick while we were distractin’ the giants.  Perhaps we should start looking in the forest near Brunswick?” Bloodthorne says.

“Good idea.  Let’s get moving,” Eltharion says.

They travel north for another day, and arrive at the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  They go in for some investigating.

“Have you seen our friend Grog lately?  He’s a goblin, about this tall,” Eltharion motions to Basil Evans, the brightly colored fop behind the counter.

“Ah yes I remember him.  I haven’t seen him in quite a while.  Last time I saw him was the last time you were here with him, several months at least,” Basil responds.

“Okay, well, thanks anyway.  If you see him, let him know we’re looking for him,” Eltharion replies.

“Hm, I did see a tall fellow with black dreadlocked hair and a skull-topped staff a couple of days back.  He said that if he didn’t return in a week, to send word to Baron about ‘The Necromancer’s’ demise.  I wasn’t really sure what he was talking about, but I said I’d do it,” Basil says.  “That’s the only strange activity I’ve seen lately.”

“The Necromancer.  He must be in some kind of trouble.  Let’s get going,” Eltharion says.  The Heroes go out and ride off into the forest.  Bloodthorne flies up above, trying to survey a larger area.

After several hours of searching, dusk comes.

“I think I see somethin’!” Bloodthorne says as he flies back down to Eltharion and Ogrim.  They continue forward toward whatever Bloodthorne saw, and come to a clearing around a small brook.  There are about ten tents set up here and there.

The Heroes are surrounded.  Six or seven goblins all poke primitive spears in their direction, calling out in the primitive goblin tongue.

Bloodthorne looks around at them, then back to Eltharion and Ogrim.

“Should I kill ‘em?” Bloodthorne asks.

“I don’t think so, not worth it,” Eltharion says.

“Smelly things…” Ogrim grumbles.

“Wait!  Guys!” a voice is heard from across the camp.  They see none other than Blaze Brague running at them, his hugely muscular form and shiny plate mail glinting in the moonlight.

“Blaze!  We didn’t know what happened to you!” Eltharion says.  The goblins back off as Blaze approaches.

“We basically tried to lure the demons off the main battle, but looks like we lost the castle anyway…” Blaze says.  “My brother Blaine, The Necromancer, and Grog are here too.”

“What in Moradin’s name are you doing in a goblin camp?” Ogrim asks.

"Long story.  I’ll let The Necromancer explain, but first you need to see Grog…” Blaze says.

He leads them to a tent, and opens the flap, revealing Grog.

Grog looks different.  He is wearing some pearly white ornate samurai-type armor.  He also has a wakizashi and kata with hilts and sheaths that match his katana.

“Grog…?” Eltharion says.

“Yes.” Grog responds tesely.  He doesn’t even turn to look at Eltharion or the other new arrivals.

“How have you been?” Eltharion tries to pry an answer.

“Fine.” Grog responds.

“Where did you get that armor?” Eltharion asks.

“A spirit gave it to me while I was wandering alone,” Grog says.

“Strange…” Ogrim says.  “So what are we doing here?”

“I am hunting those who would kill my people.  The evil rat-men have been killing my kin here and I must defend them,” Grog says.

“Is he crazy?” Eltharion asks Blaze.

“No, no.  We have been fighting off some insane skaven cultists, for lack of a better word.  Blaine, The Necromancer and I stumbled upon them near the ruins of Canticus.  We overheard them talking about how their God is re-joining them on earth and will help them spread plague and chaos.  We fought them a couple of times.  They retreated once, and we had to retreat once.

“They use all kinds of poisons and disease, so the battles are pretty nasty.  We ran into Grog out here, and he wouldn’t come to Baron with us.  He said that no matter what he was going to kill these skaven and save his people.”  Blaze says.

“Looks like the God of the skaven is looking to get back his status by spreading plague,” Ogrim says, remember Adlai’s words.

“Wait, did you say God?” Blaze says.

“Seems like the gathering of the stones of power caused all the Gods to fall to Aldor-Valencia.  Each one has to do something to earn back its status as God,” Eltharion explains.

“That’s not good…” Blaze shakes his head.

Another fight with a God?  Will the Heroes stay and help Grog, or go back to Baron?  Find out next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 26, 2005)

“So, what you’re saying is, he needs to infect as many people as possible with his plague to regain his God-hood?” Blaze asks.

“Pretty much,” Eltharion replies.  They were walking toward the abandoned and destroyed town of Canticus.  The same town with the underground temple to Iyachtu Xvim where he ascended.

“You’re sure they’re in the destroyed temple?” Ogrim asks.

“When they retreated, we followed them back here, so we’re sure this is where they’re staying,” The Necromancer responds.

They reach the rubble that was once Canticus and find the hatch that leads underground, where the church used to be.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?  Rush ‘em?” Blaine asks.

“We destroy the enemies of my people…” Grog says with a straight face.

“It’ll work.  Worry not, I can’t die, remember?” Bloodthorne chuckles as he pulls up the hatch.

Grog, Eltharion, Ogrim, Blaze, Blaine, The Necromancer, and Bloodthorne head down into the dank underground.  The once neatly carved walls and doorways were now destroyed, scorched, and in general disarray.  They manage to find their way to a larger chamber.

On the far wall is hanging a map of the area.  Looking at the map are five skaven.

One of them is wearing a deep green robe.  One has all kinds of metal pieces grafted onto his body, almost like a macabre machine.  One is wearing a green cape, and carries a staff.  One has all his fur dyed green, and it’s all tied up in tufts all over his body.  He looks horribly scarred from head to toe.

The final one is what draws the most attention.  This one is over 15 feet tall.  Completely naked except for a loincloth and a jagged metal mask, with two long metal horns protruding from it.  He spins instantly to face the Heroes, whirling around a huge and wicked glaive.

And the room erupts into chaos.

The robed skaven pulls out a heavy flail/censer, which trails some noxious gas as he charges toward Blaze.  His flail slams down into him hard, and he staggers back a step.  The gas fills his lungs and he starts coughing horribly as it burns him from the inside.

“TEMPUS!!” Blaze doesn’t back down, and slams right back at the flail-wielding skaven with a force that could level a building.  His muscles bulge, and his armor squeals from the pressure.

The Necromancer casts _haste_ on Ogrim.  Ogrim runs directly at the large masked skaven.

“By the hammer of the All-Father, you shall meet your end!” Ogrim bellows as he slams his Orc-Killer axe into the side of the fallen God, drawing a stream of brackish bile and blood.  Ogrim swipes at him again, missing, as he steps over him to the center of the room, swinging his glaive with a mastery the Heroes have never seen.

He spins it back behind him, then over his head, then back to the front.  The attack seems to be headed at Blaze, but at the last second it swirls around and strikes Ogrim.  Ogrim staggers from the immensely powerful blow; the glaive shearing through his adamantium full plate armor.

The green-dyed skaven charges Blaze as well, pulling out two razor-sharp kukris as he does so.  A jagged cut to Blaze’s arm draws another growl of pain as he feels the poison burn into the exposed wound.

Bloodthorne spins and draws his two longswords, jabbing them both out at the kukri-wielding skaven, drawing two deep cuts and a high pitched squeal of pain.

“You going to be okay, brother?” Blaine says as he draws his rapier and main-gauge.  

“I’m fine, go,” Blaze says, and Blaine charges at the fallen God.  He slides in and stabs it with his rapier in the thigh.

Grog unsheathes his exquisite katana blade.  It speaks to him in a voice only he can hear, and he charges the fallen God.  He slashes into it violently and with all his strength.  He cuts the shin of the God to the bone, and the masked-rat looks down at the pesky goblin.

The caped skaven with the staff casts a spell, and points to the fallen God.  Some of his wounds close up.

“Cleric…” Eltharion charges it, Moon-scimitar and Sun-sickle drawn and ready.  The fallen God swings out his glaive and delivers a brutal slash to Eltharion, who dodges to the side just enough to avoid losing his life.  He reaches the cleric, however, and stabs out with his scimitar, slicing the skaven across the arm.

The mechanically-endowed skaven has some jagged claws protrude from his forearms, and he clanks up behind Grog, slashing him across the back.  One of his eyes is covered with metal, only a red glowing point can be seen.

The flail-wielding skaven swings out again and again, slamming into Blaze several times.  Blaze staggers backwards once again, in terrible pain, inside and out.  The entire area around he, Bloodthorne, the flail- and kukri-wielding skaven is covered in poisonous smoke.

Blaze steps back and _heals_ himself.  He looks back to the skaven with a steely gaze.

The Necromancer casts _fly_ on himself, and flies up to the ceiling of the room, to stay out of range of these skilled combatants.

Ogrim charges the fallen God again, taking an expertly-placed glaive slash to the stomach as he does so, and hacks into its leg.

Once again it merely steps past Ogrim, who chops it again.  Blaine also jabs his rapier into it as it steps past him.  It swings its glaive once again, leveling it into Blaine.  He’s fast, but not fast enough, and he takes a terrible slash across the stomach, and he bends over in pain.

The kukri-wielding skaven enters a deadly routine.  Eight attacks fly out at almost every direction.  He strikes Blaze four times and Bloodthorne four times as well.  Bloodthorne feels no pain, but sees chunks of his own flesh rending from his bones.  Blaze isn’t so lucky, however, and he collapses to one knee after the horrible routine, leaving his body bleeding and burning from poison.

Bloodthorne positions himself behind the flail-wielding skaven.

“Shouldn’t let me get behind you, mate,” Bloodthorne says as he stabs the skaven with unerring accuracy.  The horrible squeals are almost as loud as Bloodthorne’s laughs.

Blaine ducks and weaves past the spinning glaive to land a hit on the fallen God.

Grog pushes the mechanical skaven out of his way and moves toward the cleric.  He takes a glaive-shot to the back for his efforts, but screams in rage to block out the pain.  He slashes the cleric with his katana, who falls backwards, but regains his feet quickly.

Eltharion ang Grog corner the cleric against the wall.  Eltharion lets loose a seven-hit combo that would normally kill seven men; but the skaven stays standing, barely.

The mechanical skaven moves opposite the chamber from Eltharion and Grog.  From underneath his forearms come two pistol-looking weapons, which place themselves in his hands.  He fires one of them, and a glowing-greenish substance splashes onto Grog.  Grog hardly notices the terrible burning sensation.

The flail-wielding skaven growls and slams into Blaze a few more times.  Blaze is overcome with pain, bruises, breaks, and poison, and collapses.

The Necromancer frowns, looking around.  He flies down and touches the flail-wielding skaven, casting a _maximized vampiric touch_.  He feels the life force drain out of the rat-man and into his body.

“I love that…” The Necromancer’s smile is as evil as ever.

“Settle down, Nekky,” Eltharion calls from across the room.

Ogrim ducks a glaive swipe as he runs at the fallen God again, but isn’t fast enough.  He gets jammed in the gut and grits his teeth in pain.  That doesn’t stop him, however, and he chops into the God once again.

Again the huge masked skaven steps past both Ogrim and Blaine, who both get minor hits in as it does so.  It slams its glaive into Grog from 15 feet away, who falls to one knee.

The kukri-wielding skaven smiles a toothy smile to Bloodthorne as he throws an eight-hit combination at him.  Bloodthorne can’t dodge enough of the lightning-fast blade attacks, and collapses into a flesh-torn mass.

Blaine tumbles away from the God, and pours a potion into Blaze’s mouth, who comes to.

“What happened?” Blaze says, startled.

“Look out!” Blaine says, as the flail-wielding skaven turns back to face them.

The cleric-skaven attempts another spell, but it is lost, along with his life, as Grog chops into his body with his katana as a butcher into meat.  A bloody mass is all that remains.

Eltharion tumbles in toward the God, barely dodging a glaive hit that would have removed his head.  He stabs into it with his Moon-scimitar.

The mechanical skaven fires two more green-sludge blasts.  One hits Grog, and one hits Eltharion.

The flail-wielding skaven swings at Blaze, but it is deflected by his armor.  He hits Blaine once, however, and Blaine coughs from the poison gas.

“TEMPUS!” Blaze bellows again, his muscles expanding.  He chops down with his axe three times, each one more powerful than the last.  Somehow, the flail-wielding skaven is still standing.  Parts of its bone are exposed along its arms and ribcage.  Its entrails are falling out of his body, and it is bleeding from dozens of different places.

“How is that thing still alive!?” Blaze yells in frustration.

The Necromancer narrows his eyes at the kukri-wielding skaven, who is now lording over Bloodthorne’s mangled body.  He points his drow-skull topped staff at it, and invokes an evil rite.  A _trap the soul _ spell weaves into being, and the two rubies set into the skulls eyes begin to glow.  The skaven’s eyes go wide, and he drops his kukris.  He vanishes into one of the gems, forever trapped.

“Nice work Nek!!” Eltharion calls out in triumph.

Ogrim charges the fallen God and takes another glaive hit to the flank.  He chops into the thing’s leg.

The God spins its glaive over its head, and slams it down into Ogrim, and then Grog.  Both of them are left barely clinging to life.  Grog has several mortal wounds, but sheer adrenaline keeps him going.

“I’m going for the rat-king,” Blaine says as he disengages the near-dead flail-wielding skaven, heading at the fallen God.  He takes a glaive slash across the arm for his efforts.

Grog does so as well, gritting his teeth.  He slashes into the fallen God’s leg once again.

Eltharion does the same, and they have the horned rat surrounded.

The mechanical skaven fires two more globs, both splashing into The Necromancer.

“Bad move,” The Necromancer says as he winces from the burning poisonous sludge.  He levels a finger at the mechanical skaven, and invokes a _flesh to stone _ spell.  The skaven’s flesh turns to stone, and the mechanical parts stay metal, so it becomes quite a work of art.

“I’m glad he’s on our team,” Elthaion quips to Grog, who doesn’t seem to hear.

The flail-wielding skaven and Blaze stalk back and forth, knowing the next hit could possibly kill either one of them.  The skaven swings first, but Blaze ducks.  As he does, he swings his axe in from the side, gritting his teeth, and swinging as hard as he possibly can…

…and the skaven’s torso is removed from its legs.  Its body almost falls apart now as it has no willpower left to keep it together.

The Necromancer throws a horrid wilting spell at the fallen God, and Ogrim hacks into it four times.  It counters, slashing its glaive at Ogrim, Grog, Eltharion, and Blaine.  Each one takes an almost lethal hit.  Eltharion staggers back, as does Blaine.

Blaine spins back in and stabs in with his rapier and main-gauge quickly and precisely.

Grog follows with a wicked combination of overhead chops, followed by a jump stab to the fallen God’s stomach.  The fallen God staggers back, dropping its glaive, which clangs on the stone.  It then falls to a knee, looking at each of the Heroes.  He removes the mask, revealing a horribly scarred and diseased rat-face.  He collapses, and the mask skids across the ground.


----------



## Hairy Minotaur (Jan 26, 2005)

Sweeeet!


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## Ankh-Morpork Guard (Jan 26, 2005)

Well, I've finally caught up in reading this story hour, and I think Hairy Minotaur says it best.

Sweeet!


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## Sandain (Jan 26, 2005)

Wow you were nice to your players with that fight.


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## Droid101 (Jan 26, 2005)

Ankh-Morpork Guard said:
			
		

> Well, I've finally caught up in reading this story hour, and I think Hairy Minotaur says it best.
> 
> Sweeet!



Thanks for reading!


			
				Sandain said:
			
		

> Wow you were nice to your players with that fight.



Hm, I don't think I was that nice.  The fighter (kukri) and barbarian (flail) had far more hit points than any of the characters.  Not to mention the Horned Rat, who was an even higher level fighter.  

But note that he was no longer a God.  He was only whatever he was before he became a God.  In his case, just a fighter.  Albiet a really awesome one.  Let me add that if either the kukri skaven or the mech skaven had saved against The Necromancer's spells (flesh to stone and trap the soul, respectively) the battle may have gone sour.

Thanks for the responses, however.  I'll be posting an extra bonus loot post for your efforts!!

BONUS POST!!!!

The Loot-a-rific Post!    Version 3

Quite a haul.

Huge Glaive +5 – Infects anyone hit with Greater Horned Rot disease.
Mask of Corruption – Infects the wearer with the Greater Horned Rot disease.  Grants +10 to all save throws.
Keen Crippling Kukri +3
Keen Virulent Kukri +3
Bracers of Armor +5
Amulet of Natural Armor +3
Eversmoking Plague Censer (Flail) +4 – Fills 5 foot radius around wielder with skaven poison gas.
Robes of Armor +6
Bracers of Dexterity +4
Quarterstaff of Poison +3 – On successful hit, skaven poison.  As standard action, can fire skaven poison globs.
Bracers of Armor +6
Pale Green Ion Stone
Lavendar and Green Ion Stone
Statue of mechanical skaven.
Skaven Soul-in-a-Gem.

The Horned Rot disease has an incubation period of 3 days, DC22, and does d3 Str, Dex and Con damage.
The Greater Horned Rot disease has an incubation period of 3 days, DC30, and does d6 Str, Dex, and Con damage.
Skaven poison is DC22, 1d6 Con initial and secondary damage.


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## Sandain (Jan 26, 2005)

I realize that they were powerful opponents, but they seemed to keep accepting AoO and they were dividing attacks among thier different foes.  I doubt any player would split attacks between 2-4 different opponents, but rather focus on one until it was dead.

If the Kukri or Skaven god had not been splitting attacks i expect you would have a TPK on your hands


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## Droid101 (Jan 26, 2005)

Sandain said:
			
		

> I realize that they were powerful opponents, but they seemed to keep accepting AoO and they were dividing attacks among thier different foes.



True, but since he had reach, it was more prudent to move and let them come to him.  That way, he'd end up with the same number of attacks (move and attack, then three attacks of opportunity, all at full attack bonus), and each person would only get 2 attacks against him (one AoO, and one move and attack, instead of 4 attacks [Ogrim or Grog] or 7 attacks [Blaine or Eltharion]), therefore reducing the number of attacks he takes by close to 13 or 14 per round.


> I doubt any player would split attacks between 2-4 different opponents, but rather focus on one until it was dead.



My players do that quite frequently, especially when describing some cool jump double kick they do.  But I'll admit that I don't remember exactly who was attacked in that last flurry by the Skaven God (it happened quite a long time ago).  It may have been (and probably was) Ogrim attacked all four times.  But he would've lived anyway.



> If the Kukri or Skaven god had not been splitting attacks i expect you would have a TPK on your hands



Well, the Kukri-Skaven took down both Blaze and Bloodthorne, so I think he did all right for himself.


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## Sandain (Jan 27, 2005)

Oh! Thats a really good point about moving to get the AoO and reducing the number of attacks. Wish id thought of that when my group was doing G1-3.

What exactly is the reach on that guy? a large creature gets reach, and a polearm gives reach - so is it a 20ft reach or the standard 10 still?

With a monster with 10 foot reach I have been allowing my group to take a free 5 ft step (provoking an AoO) and have thier full attack since they are now 5 ft away which is within combat range per the rules.

Hrm 2-handed sword doesnt usually have reach, but what if its wielded by a large creature and the sword is 15 feet long?


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## the Jester (Jan 27, 2005)

Droid101 said:
			
		

> True, but since he had reach, it was more prudent to move and let them come to him.  That way, he'd end up with the same number of attacks (move and attack, then three attacks of opportunity, all at full attack bonus), and each person would only get 2 attacks against him (one AoO, and one move and attack, instead of 4 attacks [Ogrim or Grog] or 7 attacks [Blaine or Eltharion]), therefore reducing the number of attacks he takes by close to 13 or 14 per round.




Brilliant, a ploy I'd best remember.  I like it.  

The only thing that would spoil it imc is _psionic lion's charge..._


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## Droid101 (Jan 27, 2005)

Sandain said:
			
		

> What exactly is the reach on that guy? a large creature gets reach, and a polearm gives reach - so is it a 20ft reach or the standard 10 still?



Well, a reach weapon increases your reach by double, so whatever your reach is (his was 15 feet) gets doubled, for a total of 30 feet.



> Hrm 2-handed sword doesnt usually have reach, but what if its wielded by a large creature and the sword is 15 feet long?



I don't think it matters, since the length of the sword is already taken into account with the creatures enhanced reach.

Thanks for the discussion, however.  I should be posting an update later on today!


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## Droid101 (Jan 27, 2005)

Bloodthorne’s limp body moves after about five minutes.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, looking around the room.  His body still pretty torn up from the fight.

“We killed them.  And turned that one to stone,” The Necromancer chuckles.

“We should definitely put that in our mansion in Sigil,” Bloodthorne says, using his bag of holding to scoop up the man-sized statue of the mechanically-enhanced skaven.

“Okay, I piled up everything that is magical.  If everybody carries something, I can teleport us to Baron in two trips,” The Necromancer says while gazing around the room under the effects of his _detect magic_ spell.

“Hold on…” Eltharion says, pushing a loose stone off a nearby wall.  Inside, he finds a forest green cloak with a strange symbol embroidered on it.  “How about this?”

The Necromancer looks at it.

“It’s not magical,” he says.

“I’m taking it anyway.  Someone hid it here for a reason,” Eltharion says, putting the cloak into his bag.

The Necromancer collects the items and _teleports_ the party back to Baron.

“Okay, I’m going to go get this stuff identified,” The Necromancer says, flying off.

“I’m going with ‘im,” Bloodthorne adds as he flies off as well.

Grog also goes off by himself to find an inn room.  Blaze, Blaine, Ogrim and Eltharion head to the castle.  They enter the castle to report back to Adlai.

“Hey Adlai, look who we found,” Eltharion says, pointing behind him to the rest of the group.

“Good, you’re back.  We have a problem, and lots of news” Adlai says, giving barely a passing nod to the newly returned Grog, Necromancer, Blaze and Blaine.

“Can’t even get a minute of rest around here…” Ogrim grumbles.

“Sorry, but this is serious,” Adlai says.  “Last night, someone kidnapped Senman and Misani out of their inn room.  A ransom note was given to the innkeeper.”

“Who gave him the ransom note?” Eltharion asks.

“We have him in custody if you want to interrogate him.  I’m about ready to try and scry them so we can go find them, and make sure they’re okay,” Adlai says.

“Take us to him.”

Adlai leads them down into Baron’s dungeon.  They stop at the first cell, and a regular looking fellow stands up.

“Can I leave now?” the man asks.

“Not until you give us some answers,” Eltharion says, his face serious.

“I already told your people everything I know!”

“And what is that, exactly?” Ogrim says.

“When I woke up in the morning, I had a piece of paper in my room and a note.  The paper said to deliver the note to the innkeeper, and not to open it.  There was a gold piece with it, so I thought if I did what it said, that maybe I’d get another gold piece.  I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong!”

“Seems legitimate.  Adlai, start scryin’, we leave tomorrow,” Ogrim puts.  Nobody argues.

The guards let the man free, and the Heroes go upstairs to Adlai’s chamber, where he _scrys_ Senman.

An image swirls into view on his mirror.  They see a huge pillar in what looks like an enormous stoneworked room.  Misani and Senman are at the base of the pillar, bound and gagged.

“Okay, so we need to find out where that temple is, and go there,” Ogrim says.

“I’ll do some research, but first, I have some news as well.  I’ve been researching more of the prophecies,” Adlai starts.  “It seems as if there are two people who are mentioned quite a lot.  They basically team up and seem to play a big role in the coming Dark Tides.

“One of them is said to be invincible, unable to be harmed by anything.  Like a stone.  The other is described as lightning fast.  Able to kill many men before any can react.  They are called ‘*The Two*’.”

“So, they are going to help us against the dark elves?” Eltharion asks.

“That’s what we’re hoping, but the problem is, from what I’ve been able to decipher, I can’t tell what side they are fighting on,” Adlai says.

“Well, come on, it should be pretty simple.  There’s us, and there’s them,” Eltharion says.

“Actually, the prophecy speaks of three distinct factions.  The good, the evil, and the others.  The good and the evil seem to clash for most of the time, and the others grow quietly in strength.  From what I read, either the good or the evil side prevails at first, but after a long delay, the other faction gains the upper hand,” Adlai says.

“What do you mean ‘Either the good or the evil prevails,’ huh?” Eltharion asks.  “You can’t even decipher that!?”

“I’m sorry, it’s very cryptic, and I’m doing all kinds of other research at the same time!” Adlai is quite flustered.

“Sorry.  You’re right.  Hey, could you add this to your pile of research?” Eltharion pulls out the cloak he found, showing Adlai the peculiar symbol.

“You… found this?” Adlai looks shocked, as if he has seen a ghost.

“Yeah, why?” Eltharion replies.

“Hold on, let me check something,” Adlai throws open some books on his desk, flipping through the pages quickly.  Finally, he gets to a page that has two large symbols drawn on them.  One looks like a shield with a tree on it, and the other is a triangular symbol, which looks exactly like the on on the cloak.

“So, what does this mean?” Eltharion asks.

“Hold on, come with me, I need to ask the king of the dwarves a question,” Adlai leads them downstairs.  He knocks twice on the chamber.  A dwarven guard comes to the door.

“We need to speak with Strumdar Goldensoul, it’s of vital importance,” Adlai says.

“Wait ‘ere a minute,” the dwarf closes the door.  After a minute, the king emerges with a mug in his hand.

“I’m eatin’.  What’s the trouble?” Strumdar asks.

Adlai slaps the book down on the table in front of him, pointing to the shield.

“Recognize this?” Adlai asks.

“Yes, it’s the Oakenshield.  An heirloom of our kingdom.  Supposeddly only the chosen one can wield ‘er,” Strumdar says.

“And you never bothered searching for the chosen one in your own kingdom?  Even in the dwarven family that shares the shield’s name?” Adlai presses on.

“Nay, we figgerd it was just a legend,” Strumdar says.

“Well, it’s not.  And you’re looking at the ones they speak about in the prophecy, right now!” Adlai says, pointing to Ogrim and Eltharion.

“They are *The Two*!”


----------



## sandtiger (Jan 29, 2005)

Hi,

Figured I'd just let you know, I'm still reading and enjoying it immensely.  You have outdone yourself with the last two episodes.   The fight scene was well written.  Blew me over with the final paragraph is the last one too.  Did your players know they were going to be "chosen"?  

Also a general questioin.  How do you work the NPC's ?  Do the players take them over during the battles or do you play against yourself?  

I look forward to your story, so thanks for posting twice in two days!  I can't tell you how much you improved my pretty pathetic day with your story.

Sandtiger


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## Droid101 (Jan 31, 2005)

sandtiger said:
			
		

> Figured I'd just let you know, I'm still reading and enjoying it immensely.  You have outdone yourself with the last two episodes.   The fight scene was well written.  Blew me over with the final paragraph is the last one too.  Did your players know they were going to be "chosen"?



Thank you, and no, they didn't know they were being chosen.  They were blown away by the news too!



> Also a general questioin.  How do you work the NPC's ?  Do the players take them over during the battles or do you play against yourself?



I have always controlled my NPCs.  Which ones are NPCs, however, will be answered soon.



> I look forward to your story, so thanks for posting twice in two days!  I can't tell you how much you improved my pretty pathetic day with your story.
> 
> Sandtiger



Hopefully I'll have more time to post even more!  Thanks for being one of my two sandy readers.


----------



## Droid101 (Jan 31, 2005)

_The Oakenshield_

One of the “Relics of the Two”

Powers granted only if used by “the Stone” member of *The Two*.

+4 IronOak shield (large)

When wielding the shield, the wielder gets +10 to all rolls to avoid being tripped or bull rushed, or otherwise moved from their position.

One time per day, the user may move their speed while in a defensive stance without losing its benefits.

The shield cannot be disarmed without total removal of the arm that wields it.

Automatically blocks one normal ranged attack per round, as Deflect Arrows.

Cannot be sundered.

Fire, Lightning, Acid, Cold, Sonic resistance of 5.

+2 to all Fortitude saves.


_Cloak of Alacrity_

One of the “Relics of the Two”

Powers granted only if used by “the Swift” member of *The Two*.

One time per day, the wearer can take twice the number of attacks in a round that they are normally allotted.  All these attacks are at a +2 bonus to hit.

Cloak is fireproof.

Wearer gets +10 to movement speed.

One time per day, wearer may sprint at x6 instead of x4 for four rounds.

+2 dodge bonus to AC.  +2 insight bonus to attack rolls.  +4 to Reflex saves.

If the wearer uses the Full Defensive combat option, they get +2 more to their AC bonus for that round than normal.


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## Droid101 (Feb 1, 2005)

“What?” Eltharion is perplexed.

“Look, you found the Cloak of Alacrity.  They own the Oakenshield.  You are fast.  You are sturdy,” Adlai points to each person as he makes each successive point.  “You are *The Two*.  It’s so painfully obvious.”

“So, what, do we have special-powers now or something?” Eltharion still looks skeptical.

“Once you don the Cloak of Alacrity you will.  And Ogrim, once you weild The Oakenshield, you will.  Go ahead and see,” Adlai puts his hands on his hips.

Eltharion reluctantly clasps the cloak on.  Instantly his mind is filled with thoughts, memories, and flashes of light.  Somehow, he knows what he can now do.

“Ogrim, get that shield.  If it’s half as amazing at this cloak, you’ll be pleased…” Eltharion closes his eyes and takes in the rush.

Strumdar sends his guard to retrieve The Oakenshield from the vault.  After a few minutes, they return, bearing the IronOak shield.  Ogrim grasps it and instantly feels a similar rush as Eltharion.

“You were right,” Ogrim states, nodding as the knowledge pours over him.

They take their new items and leave Strumdar’s presence.  Adlai takes them back to his research room.

“So, now we just need to find where Misani and Senman are being kept,” Eltharion says to Adlai.

“Well, in the prophecies, it says that *The Two* venture to some old temple ‘in the center of the Aldor.’  The description of that temple seems to match the location Misani and Senman are tied up.  One big pillar.  It may be connected.  You may be meant to go there,” Adlai says mystically.

“Do you know where that is?” Ogrim asks.

“I believe so.  Get whoever you want to go with you, and I’ll let you know tomorrow,” Adlai says.

Viknen’s still tired, Bloodthorne and The Necromancer are nowhere to be found.  They find Blaze and Grog, however, and they agree to go with them.

“You’re what??” Blaze asks.

“We’re some kind of chosen ones.  I know it’s pretty crazy,” Eltharion says.

“So, you guys supposedly help us defend the land from evil or something?” Blaze chuckles.

“Well, Adlai says he can’t see which side we end up fighting for.  Which is kind of odd.  I mean, why would we ever turn against Baron and our friends here?” Eltharion responds.

“Who knows.  Those prophecies are pretty cooky anyway.  So, we leave tomorrow for this ancient temple?  You all ready?” Blaze asks.

“Surely!” Ogrim says.

“Yeah,” Eltharion nods.

Grog merely nods.  He was a lot more quiet than he used to be.

The next day, Adlai gathers everyone.

“Okay, it’s supposed to be somewhere around the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  Somewhere out to the east in the nearby forest.  You shouldn’t have much trouble locating it,” Adlai says.

“Let’s do it!” Blaze exclaims.

Adlai _teleports_ everybody to the Adventurer’s Guildhall, then _teleports_ himself back to Baron.  Grog, Blaze, Eltharion, and Ogrim head out east into the forest.

After about half a day’s walk, they see a stone obelisk-like thing above the trees.  They head toward it and see an 80 foot tall granite obelisk, with a stone stairway leading down underground.

“I guess this is it.  I’ll go first, wouldn’t want our ‘chosen ones’ getting hurt…” Blaze chuckles.  He heads down the stairs.  A piece of the ceiling breaks off and crashes down in front of him.  Part of the stone strikes his gauntleted hand.  “Damn, it’s ruined…” Blaze takes off his gauntlet and tosses it back up the stairs.

“Be ready, this cavern is old and falling apart,” Ogrim studies the rock.

………

Adlai pours over his books.

The prophecies are slowly becoming more clear.

Which side do *The Two* end up fighting for?  Why is that the most difficult thing to decipher?

And the timelines… the timelines are so vague.  Either the good or the evil side wins, then later on, a third side wins.  How much later on?

Hm.  This part is peculiar.  Didn’t notice it before.  A detailed description of what happens in the temple?  Pertaining to *The Two*?

Oh no.

Oh no…

Gotta warn them!

………

The Heroes ready their weapons as they decend the dilapidated stairs.  Deeper and deeper.

“We’re down almost 800 feet,” Ogrim says, paying close attention to their decent.

They finally reach a room.  Over 100 feet across.  In the center is a huge pillar.  At the base, they see Misani and Senman, tightly bound and gagged.

“That’s the only support for the room.  It must weigh 24,000 pounds…” Ogrim mutters under his breath, slightly amazed at the workmanship.

“So, another good deed by the goody goodys…” a high-pitched, evil voice can be heard.  Though, they can’t tell where it is coming from.

“We’re here to rescue our friends.  Care to stop us?” Eltharion brandishes his fine blades.

“Then what?  You’ll save someone else’s life?  Stop some other evil-genius’ plans from coming to fruition?  What next?” the voice continues.  “Your lives are meaningless.  You go from place to place, doing good deeds.  You haven’t ever stopped to think about what it’s all for.  You haven’t had one moment’s peace since you left Drelk in Baron.  Since you left to find the cure for your beloved White.  Then to Canticus.  Then to find White.  Then to the north, after Gryrtag the devil.  The politics of the north.  Back to Canticus, to stop Xvim.  Then the dwarves.  The underdark.  The teleportation machine.  Back in time.  Have you ever stopped to think about what you’ve done!?  Never!”

“Yes, we help people.  We do good.  Show yourself!” Ogrim yells.

“You’re pathetic.  You never do anything to better yourself.  Always for others.  You will never get anywhere like that,” the voice is snide.

“You’re pathetic.  Show yourself,” Ogrim retorts.  “You get joy in the suffering of others.  You bring us here just to lecture us?  YOU’RE pathetic.”

“I suppose here is where I give you a choice,” the voice says, and just as it does, a thundering crack can be heard from the central pillar.  “You can run for your lives, and barely make it out of the cavern alive.  Or… you can try to save your friends.  Doing so will mean certain death of course.  You can live, knowing you are responsible for your friends’ deaths, or you can try to save them, know full well that you’ll die in the process.  Choose wisely…”

The entire cavern starts to shake as the huge pillar begins to tip.

The Heroes look at each other frantically, not sure what to do.  Eltharion takes a step toward the stairs, Ogrim takes a step toward Misani and Senman.

“Get them out, I’ll hold the pillar,” Blaze says.  They all run up to the pillar.  Eltharion, Grog and Ogrim undo the bonds holding Senman and Misani.  

“TEMPUS!!!!!!!”

Blaze bellows louder than he ever has before.  His muscles expand exponentially.  His armor is nearly rended from his body, he grows so strong.  He plants his hands firmly into the pillar, and it stops falling.

“RUN!”

“We’ll get you out… we’ll get you out!!” Eltharion says, as he takes off up the stairs.  Ogrim, Grog, Senman, and Misani follow.  They run as fast as they can.  They can hear the ceiling collapsing behind them.  Rock and dust shoots out of the passage as they run as fast as they can up the stairs.

They reach daylight, and escape just before the ceiling on the staircase collapses entirely.  The granite obelisk falls as well.  Only a pile of rubble remains where the entrance once was.

_Don’t go into the temple!! _  A _sending_ message from Adlai arrives in Ogrim’s head.

_Too late._  Ogrim sends back a simple response.

The Heroes collapse, panting heavily from the run.  Grog bends over and picks up Blaze’s dented gauntlet that he left behind.  He puts it on, even though it’s far larger than his hand, being a mere goblin.

“In your honor…” Grog says quietly.

“We’ll get him out…” Eltharion says, unable to comprehend what just happened.

“What a noble sacrifice…” Ogrim says, speaking a quiet prayer to Moradin.

“I didn’t even know him that well… and he did that for me…” Senman shakes his head slowly.

“Let’s go home…” Eltharion turns away from the ruined temple, and begins to walk back toward the Adventurer’s Guildhall, and then on to Baron.


----------



## Droid101 (Feb 4, 2005)

The next few days are spent in relatively quiet solitude.

Mourning the loss of their dear friend, Blaze.

Several announcements are made during that time.

The King of Baron, after careful consideration, is going to allow the bi-yearly trade gate to the planar city of Union to be opened as normal.  At first fearing a security risk, the good and services available by opening the pathway far outweighed any potential risk.

Several mercanes – giant men with blue skin, known for their shrewd ways of negotiation – show up and start setting up a huge archway in the town center to be used as the gateway to Union.

Eltharion, Ogrim, Misani and Senman meet with Adlai the next day.

“All right, tell us everything you remember about being kidnapped,” Adlai says.

“Okay, well, it happened during the middle of the night.  I was asleep, and the door burst open.  A horrible looking demonic creature came in.  It was floating.  It only had a torso and two arms, and a head.  No legs.  It scared me half to death, and the next thing I knew I was tied up in that temple,” Senman explains.

“Same here,” Misani puts in.

“Demons…” Eltharion hisses.

“We’ll avenge Blaze, worry not,” Ogrim states.

“Can you scry The Necromancer?  He could be of help during this time, and I haven’t seen him since we got back,” Eltharion says.

Adlai _scrys_ using his mirror, and the image shows The Necromancer flying high above the ground at great speed.

“Looks like he’s going somewhere,” Adlai says.  “I’ll try to contact him.”

Adlai casts a _sending_ spell.

“He didn’t respond,” Adlai says after a moment.

“What did you ask him?” Eltharion says.

“I said we need him back here, trouble has arisen,” Adlai says, shaking his head.

“You think he could be behind the kidnapping?” Misani asks.

“I don’t want to even think that one of our friends would betray us…” Ogrim grunts.

“Well, the portal to Union should be opening in a couple of days.  You should go there and see if you can get some new gear or new contacts.  Plus, there’s always an open portal to Sigil there, so you can go check on your mansion if need be,” Adlai says.  “I’ll talk to you all later.”

The Heroes make their way back to their inn rooms.

Eltharion hears a knock on his door.  He opens it and sees a shapely female with pearly white skin.  She has raven black hair, and two tiny black horns protruding from her forehead.  She is quite frail.  She wears all black.

“You are Eltharion?” her voice is soft.

“Yes… who are you?” he replies.

“I am Israkahn, I have come on behalf of Baalzebul.  You have served him in the past, and he wishes to know if you would be interested in doing any further deeds in exchange for payment in the future,” she says.

“If the price is right,” Eltharion says.

“So be it.  I shall return here when he thinks of a need that you can fulfill.  Your payment for slaying Gryrtag has been delivered to your estate on Sigil.  An extra amount was given for causing such duress to Dispater and his other lords,” Israkahn places a soft hand on Eltharion’s shoulder.  “See you soon.”

Eltharion watches her walk off down the stairs.  He tells Ogrim and Viknen about the woman and Baalzebul, but cannot find Bloodthorne.

“Should we trust her?  I mean, we’re dealing with demons here…” Ogrim says.

“Devils.  And supposedly they can be trusted.  If the proposition isn’t so bad, we can go through with it if we get enough in return,” Eltharion says.

“We shouldn’t be spreadin’ out our resources too much now den,” Viknen says.

“If it’s not out of our way, I say we do it,” Eltharion says, and the others nod.

“We should demand help in the battle.  Don’t devils hate demons?” Ogrim says.

“Yes that’s true,” Eltharion replies.

“So, we do what they ask, and then in return they supply forces to fight against the dark elves and demons?” Ogrim reasons.

“I think it sounds fair enough!” Eltharion responds, chuckling.

“The portal to Union opens tomorrow.  We should go and see if we can sell some of the items we got from those skaven,” Ogrim says.

“Good idea,” Eltharion says, and they all go back to their rooms for the rest of the day.

The next day, they head to the town square to see the portal.  Sure enough, the huge archway is set up.  Several mercane guards stand around it.  A long line of wagons is in front of it, ready to go in.  Seems as if people from all over the continent have come to Baron to go through the portal to Union for some exotic trade.

“Well, let’s do it,” Eltharion, Ogrim and Viknen get in line.

“Couldn’t find The Necromancer?” Ogrim asks.

“Nope.  He’s off doing his own thing I guess,” Eltharion says.

They progress in line, and after about ten minutes, the shapely Israkahn approaches them from the direction of the portal.

“I see you are on your way to Union.  Good, you can accompany me.  Baalzebul has a proposition for you, and would like it to be presented to you by his most trusted servant, Vashaak,” she explains.

“We are at your service,” Eltharion says.  “This is Ogrim and Viknen.”

“I know of you.  You did do us a favor by killing Gryrtag.  Baalzebul doesn’t so soon forget his allies,” she replies.

They wait in line and finally get to the portal.  Two mercane guards approach.

“Ten gold to enter, 25 for a trade pass,” a guard says.

Israkahn holds up her pass, and they let her through.  Eltharion pays 75 gold for himself, Ogrim and Viknen, and they head on through.

Union is a strange and wonderous place.  A town floating in space.  That is the best description of what the heroes see.  Roads surrounded by short walls connect different sections of the city.  Looking down over the walls reveals empty space below, above and anywhere in between.  Each sector of the city specializes in something different: armaments, magic, spice, entertainment, sex.  Anything can be bought or sold in Union.

“Please, follow me.  We shall be going to Chindra’s Palace of Delights.  Vashaak is waiting there,” Israkahn says.

They make their way through the city.  They see every race and creature imaginable.  Devils, demons, angels, elves, dwarves, gnomes, planetouched, bariaur, and otherwise.

What will they run into in Union?  Will they ever find out who was behind Blaze’s demise?  Is is wise to be working with devils?  Find out all this and more, next update!


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## Droid101 (Feb 9, 2005)

...


----------



## Droid101 (Feb 10, 2005)

“So… you have brought me the book?” she was beautiful and horrible at the same time.  Soft features.  Pearly skin.  Feathery white wings.  But she had sinister black eyes.  She wore black lingerie, and sat upon a fine throne.

“I have,” Bink replies.  His rainbow robe starting to scintillate.

“Turn it over to me, and consider your debt repaid,” Indiffines the Wretched says with a seductive voice.  Her eyes flared an evil only possible from an erinyes.

“And if I choose to keep it?” Bink says.  The air around him almost electric from the latent magic ready to leap forth.

“Then I will have no choice but to kill you, and take it,” she tilts her head, staring directly into Bink’s eyes, trying her best to _dominate_ him.  Bink didn’t waver.

Bink just stared right back.  However, Bink’s gaze began to overtake her.  She felt a fear she never knew possible.  She had seen the most vile creatures in all the levels of Hell, but she could not muster the will to hold the gaze.

She turned away, and in that split second of hesitation, she flitted away, nothing more than dust.

Bink put his hand down, which was still glowing slightly from the _disintegrate_ spell he struck her with, right between the eyes.  He turned and left her palace behind.  The _Book of Infinite Spells _ was now his.  The pupil had become the master.  The circle was closed.  He could finally leave this Hell.

………

Eltharion, Ogrim, Viknen, and Israkahn made their way through the bustling city of Sigil, trying to get to their mansion.  They find the four-story building, and Ogrim holds the door open for Viknen, who enters.

Just then, from behind them, they hear a loud trumpeting.  So loud and piercing that it rattles their very bones.

From one side, they see a greenish-skinned female with feathery wings, glistening armor, and a polished silver trumpet.  From the other, a celestial looking half-man half-hound, who charges them wielding a cold iron greatsword.  The female angel’s trumpet changes into a greatsword as well, and she charges.

The angel touches Israkahn, envoking a banishment and sends her back to Hell.  The hound archon slashes Ogrim across the chest.

Ogrim pulls out his axe and shield, hacking down into the hound.  However, his attack doesn’t seem to affect the archon fully.

“Die, you scum!” the archon yells as it presses forward.

Eltharion spins his Sun-sickle and Moon-scimitar into his hands as he lunges at the angel.  He strikes, her but his blades do not pierce her light green skin.

“Your evil cannot harm us!” the angel brings her sword over her head and slams it down into Eltharion three times, each one drawing a long line of blood.  The hound archon similarly hacks into Ogrim, piercing through his adamantium armor, and injuring him greatly.

“You best be watchin’ out, now den,” Viknen says as he steps out of the house.  Eltharion and Ogrim know to close their eyes.  Viknen’s eyes turn into the blue sapphire-like gems, glowing furiously.  His gaze washes over the hound archon, whose eyes flash blue momentarily.

The archon turns to the angel, and swings his blade at her.  It slams into her, catching her off guard, she staggers back.

“I’ll be back for you, Helious!” and she flutters away, up into the sky with all haste.

The hound archon stands motionless.  Ogrim and Eltharion quickly disarm him and tie him down, taking him inside their mansion.  The charm gaze wears off, and the archon struggles to escape.  Eltharion, Ogrim and Viknen stand over him.

“You try to attack us in our very home!” Ogrim kicks the archon roughly.

“Why did you attack us?” Eltharion asks.

“Let me go!” Helious says.

“We’ll let you go if you tell us why you attacked us,” Eltharion states.

“Fine.  You have been connected to some powerful devils.  Anyone who works with devils is EVIL!,” the archon spits on the ground.  Bellamy Bill wanders in from the other room, watching the exchange.

“Yes, we took the devil’s money to kill another devil.  We were going to be doing it anyway, so basically we killed a devil and robbed another one.  How does that make us evil?” Eltharion says.

“You made deals with devils twice now.  You can only be redeemed by the blade,” the archon says proudly.

“You can go.  Don’t bother us again,” Eltharion says.  Ogrim nods.

“Next time we meet, we’ll be enemies,” the hound archon says.  Ogrim unties his bonds, and he storms out of the mansion, giving everyone a steely glare.  Ogrim keeps his cold iron greatsword.

“Bellamy, how are you?” Eltharion asks their dwarven seneschal.

“Construction is on schedule.  A laboratory in the basement, a tavern on the first floor, training rooms, bedrooms, kitchens and the like all throughout.  It’ll be a masterpiece when completed,” Bellamy explains.

“Great, we have some things to drop off, put them in the safe downstairs,” Eltharion says.

“Some snake-man dropped off 50,000 gold a few days back.  It’s in the safe,” Bellamy says.

“Good.  Keep up the good work,” Ogrim says.  The Heroes make their way out after inspecting the place.  They find the portal to Union, and then the portal back to Baron.

They do some research while in Union, and find out about a group called the Celestial Avengers.  This conclave of angels, archons and guardinals believe themselves to be the ultimate power of good in the multiverse.  They hunt down and kill anyone who has had even a slight interaction with a demon or a devil.  Fanatics, would be the best word to describe them.

“I think we’ve gotten some bad attention…” Eltharion says.

“True.  Well, let’s get to Baruk and find out about this evil wizard,” Ogrim says.

Can they handle evil wizards?  How powerful are the Celestial Avengers?  How many powerful enemies can the Heroes raise?  Find out more, next time!!


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## Droid101 (Feb 16, 2005)

Sorry for the lack of updates.  As of now, I am getting promoted at work so I will no longer be able to write while at work.

The bad news is that I will be posting less often.

The good news is that I started recording the sessions, so each post will be longer, more in-depth, and will more accurately portray what the characters said and did.

I'll try my hardest to get a post done tonight!  Thanks for hanging in there!


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## sandtiger (Feb 17, 2005)

Congratulations on your promotion.  I'm bummed that you won't be able to write at work, but I'll find some way to forgive you  .  

I still check regularly for your story, so don't think your off the hook.

Sandtiger


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## Droid101 (Feb 18, 2005)

After a couple of days, Viknen teleports himself, Ogrim, and Eltharion to Baruk, the town where some evil wizard was supposedly trying to get power through politics.

Baruk seemed like a small town.  They gather some information from the innkeeper where they get a room.

“Yeah, elections are going on.  Towns out here in the east are progressive.  They vote in mayors,” the innkeeper says.

“Interesting.  And who is running this time?” Eltharion asks.

“Well, the man who has been our mayor for years and years: Hrogan McCandless.  He was a shoe-in every year, but this year, things are looking different.  Some new guy, named ‘Ronec’ is running.  Saying how he’s going to progress us into the future even more.  He’s got everyone in an uproar,” the innkeeper explains.

“Hm…” Eltharion thinks a moment, looking to Ogrim and Viknen.  “You think he’s using magic to influence votes?”

“A possibility,” Ogrim responds.

“Thank you good sir, we’ll be off,” Eltharion says.

“If you hurry, you can catch the end of the debate that’s going on in town hall right now,” the innkeeper says.

“Great, thanks!” they run to the center of town and find a large courthouse and meeting hall.  They go in, only to find two tables up at the front, along with rows and rows of seats.  The seats are empty, as all the people are crowding one of the tables.  The other table has one chubby man sitting behind it, looking flustered.  The Heroes approach.

“Ah, votes, votes!” the chubby man says.

“No, we don’t live here, I don’t think we can vote,” Eltharon interjects.

“Rats… looks like that Ronec guy is going to win…” the chubby man shakes his head slowly.

“Who is he?  Does anybody know anything about him?” Eltharion asks.

“Newcomer.  Just showed up a couple of days ago.  Everybody loves him.  Says he’s going to use magic to take our town to the ‘next level.’  Political mumbo-jumbo.  I know what this town needs!” Mr. McCandless says.

“I think we need to have a word with him…” Ogrim says.

“Great, more support for him…” Mr. McCandless looks defeated.

“Don’t worry…” Eltharion pats him on the shoulder, and the Heroes sit in some chairs, waiting for the crowd to die down.

Slowly, the mass of people starts to stream to the exit.  The crowd grows more and more thin, and finally, they can see the man sitting at the table.  They can see Ronec.

Rather, they can see The Necromancer.

“What in the world…?” Eltharion says, perplexed, as he approaches The Necromancer.

“Fancy seeing you all here.  Any reason for the surprise visit?” The Necromancer asks.

“Yep,” Ogrim lowers his voice.  “We’ve been sent to kill ye.”

The Necromancer laughs for a moment, but then sees that the others aren’t.

“With or without my permission?” The Necromancer asks.

“Well, we didn’t know it was you when we came,” Eltharion says.  “The devils that paid us to kill Gryrtag are paying us again to help stop ‘some evil wizards in the east.’  Turns out, that’s you!”

“Why are ye runnin’ for public office?” Ogrim asks.

“Easy.  Here in the east things are changing.  Down south, in Baron, things are changing as well, but for the worse.  Adlai has read you the prophecies, right?  There is a third side that comes out victorious.  There is a third side that wins in the end.  I intend to be on that side.  And this is where I think the resistance begins,” The Necromancer explains.

“Resistance?” Eltharion asks.

“Well, let’s see.  Baron outlawed magic.  Outlawed drugs.  What’s next?” The Necromancer asks.

“They did it for the good of the people.  The dark elves have been slaughtering everyone with magic, so they want to set a good example for their people,” Ogrim says.

“But when does it stop?  The King has too much power.  And now that this ‘Prophet’ has arisen and is backing the King, nothing can stand in their way.  I don’t want to be there when things go sour, that’s all,” The Necromancer says.

“So you’re going to let us fight for our lives in Baron, while you’re out here by yourself?” Eltharion asks.

“How can I fight if I don’t believe what’s being fought for?” The Necromancer retorts.

“Good point,” Ogrim nods.  “But I must stay and fight with the dwarves.”

“And I can’t let the dark elves take over Baron…” Eltharion says.

“I’m just along for da ride mon,” Viknen says.

The Necromancer shakes his head.

“Look, you’re my friends, but I just can’t go back to Baron.  I’m an outlaw there as it is.  Remember, I use magic.”

“Suit yourself.  You’re going to be missing out on the battle that will define our time, though,” Ogrim says ominously.

The Necromancer chuckles.

“So, what about this whole killing me thing?”

“Well, we don’t have to kill you.  We just have to ‘neutralize’ you,” Eltharion says.

“Hm.  I have a plan.  Where are you staying?” The Necromancer asks.

“The inn down the street,” Eltharion responds.

“Meet me there tonight, I’ll find your room,” The Necromancer stands, and walks over to Mr. McCandless.

“How do you do it?” Mr. McCandless asks, shaking his head.

“May it be a clean and fair vote,” The Necromancer shakes Mr. McCandless’ hand, and leaves the hall.  The Heroes hang around that day, and finally return to their inn room that night.

The Necromancer enters, with a large sack over his shoulder.

“What’s in the bag?” Eltharion asks, and the question is quickly answered when chopped up body parts are strewn about on the floor.  The sight is more than disgusting.

“There you have it, it’s me!” The Necromancer says.

“Nekky, that’s disgusting…” Eltharion looks away.  Ogrim shakes his head.  Viknen sniffs an arm.

“I used magic to make the body look as much like me as possible.  I just dug him out of the cemetery,” The Necromancer says.  “Then chopped him up like I got murdered.  I’ll vanish for a while, and the devils will think you did a good job.  Sound like a plan?”

“Good thinking, bad presentation…” Eltharion is still looking away.

“You should leave tonight, so it looks abrupt.  I made sure the innkeeper saw me come in, so he’ll know it was you who did me in.  Word will spread,” The Necromancer says as he steps back.  “Good luck in that big battle.  Wish I could be there fighting beside you.”

And with that, The Necromancer vanishes with a snap.

“Let’s be getting’ outta here, now den,” Viknen says, waving his staff with the skulls hanging from it.  They clatter together, and the three of them teleport back to Baron.

They decide to take another couple of days off before letting the King and Adlai know about the help from the devils they should be receiving.

How will they take this news?  Can the devils help push the fight in Baron’s favor?  Why won’t The Necromancer help them?  Is Baron really that bad?  Find out, next time!!!


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## Droid101 (Mar 1, 2005)

...


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## Droid101 (Mar 30, 2005)

(All I can say is: Sorry!  Don't hate me forever please.     )

“Is this for real?” Bink asks in bewilderment, just having arrived back in Baron and already being banished.

“What do we do now?” Eltharion asks.

Bloodthorne, Viknen, Grog, Ogrim, Eltharion and Bink walk north, with two Baron guards following behind them.  They were there only for show of course, nobody can force the Heroes to do anything they didn’t want to do.

“We help me people.  We help the dwarves,” Ogrim says, which draws a nod from everyone.

“So we head for the Adventurer’s Guildhall, then on north toward the dwarven stronghold?” Bink says.

“Sounds good.  I wonder how long ago the dwarves left,” Eltharion ponders.

“The dwarves were forced out by the dark elves… do they really have a change at getting back in?” Bink asks.

“If Moradin leads the charge, then there’s a good chance,” Ogrim answers.

“I’m up for anythin’.  Been bored ‘ere in town too long…” Bloodthorne chimes in.

“How about you Viknen?” Eltharion asks their old gnoll friend.

“I’ll be goin’ as far as deese old legs be takin’ me,” Viknen replies, supporting his weight with his crooked staff.

Eltharion looked over his shoulders at the guards following them, shaking his head.

That night, they had to stop at an inn.  The wall of Baron would be another half-day walk.

The next morning, they continued, guards still following.  It was drizzling slightly and quite overcast.  After a couple of hours, a form could be seen flying directly at them.  As it got closer, Eltharion stopped in his tracks, and the rest of the group did as well.  Eltharion pulled out his sling.

“It’s a dark elf…” Eltharion swings his arm and unleashes a sling bullet.  It slams into the drow, who lands on the ground, drawing two blades.

Grog unsheathes his wakisashi and kata, and charges.  His blades cross over the dark elf’s stomach, spilling his innards.  In a swift and continuous motion, he sheathes his blades and grabs an amulet off the neck of the dark elf.  He then spins to face the rest of the Heroes, who stare on in amazement.

Grog’s pristine white samurai-style armor morphs and changes.  The wakisashi and kata rise off his person, and join into the armor, which becomes floating mass.  The shape twists and contorts, and finally a grayish creature with a torso, mouth and two arms floats before everyone, holding onto the amulet.  Grog collapses behind it, fully unconscious.

“Finally!” the 15 foot tall demonic-looking beast bellows.  “I’ve been waiting forever for this!”

The Heroes still stare on in some kind of confusion mixed with horror.

“Who, what, are you?”  Bink manages.

“Oh, pardon me for being so rude…” the semi-transparent hideous grayish demon-looking creature spoke, it’s huge maw sounding out each syllable with perfection.  “I am Delroc, Master of Time.”

This didn’t help alleviate the party’s surprise.

“Okay, I know this must be a shock, so let me explain.  You see, your little friend Grog here never had a ‘vision.’  He never saw a spirit who granted him any armor.  I am that spirit.  Heck, I am that armor.  Maybe I should start off further back?” Delroc looked almost thoughtful for a moment.

“Okay, so hundreds of years ago, I am corporeal.  I can touch things, move thing, just like you.  However, my and my race’s wanton destruction of the land was too much for the higher powers to handle, so I was cursed to be incorporeal, unable to interact with the world around me, except to turn into inanimate objects.  Like armor and a pair of swords, for instance.

“I still had dominion over time, however, and planned to use it.  Existance wasn’t much, but at least it was existence.  However, once I was so bored with being unable to do anything, I got to reading.  I started reading the Prophecies…

“Well, let me just tell you, I didn’t like what I saw.  It must be great to see your name show up in a Prophecy of any kind.  Yeah, well, you can think that all you want until your name shows up as someone destined to DIE.”

The Heroes, much less shocked and almost a little bored at the wordiness of the creature allow him to continue, for the moment.

“So, if you hadn’t figured it out, let me spell it out a little bit more clearly.  I read the Prophecy, and found out that a person named Blaze Brague was destined to kill me,” Delroc resumed.  This certainly got the Heroes’ attention.  “So, of course I didn’t want to die, but I also didn’t have the ability to become corporeal to do anything about it…”

“So, I came up with an ingenious plan to kill Blaze, and thereby extend my own existence,”

There wasn’t a hesitation from the Heroes.  Bloodthorne, Eltharion and Ogrim all charged the creature, slashing it violently.  Unfortunately, their blades passed through it harmlessly.  Eltharion and Ogrim backed off, but Bloodthorne kept swinging.

“So, you’re saying that you kidnapped Senman and Misani, and set up Blaze’s death?” Bink asks, out of curiousity and also to stall to give him time to think of some way to avenge his good friend.

Bloodthorne kept swinging.

“You can tell him that he can stop, it’s not going to work.  Trust me, I’d like to fight for a while, I haven’t been able to interact like that for an eternity…” Delroc says.  “Anyway, to answer your question, yes, I painstakingly set up a chain of events to lead up to this point right here.

“I went back and influenced the changing of the Prophecies, to start.  I had the original writers put in a whole section about ‘The Two,’ two chosen ones.  I needed to make sure his closest friends were with him, along with Grog, so that I could be there to see it and initiate the choice.

Eltharion and Ogrim look at each other with doubting glances.

“So, the Legend of The Two was made up by me to make sure Blaze went with you to rescue your friends.  I spooked some poor fool into sabotaging the temple so that the column would fall at exactly the right time.  When you can travel back and forth through time you have a lot of room for error, so I kept going back and forth until it came down at exactly the right time.  Quite an accomplishment if you look at it with the right point of view…”

“Hold on, so there are no chosen ones?  What about the powers we’ve received from these items?  Or the legends behind them?” Eltharion asks.

“Ah, situational.  The only magic imbued in those items is illusory or mind-effecting.  Make you think you are doing what you think you are doing.  They are worthless,” Delroc says, summarily deflating Eltharion and Ogrim’s sense of worth.

But as Delroc went on in his gloating, a voice could be heard in the Heroes’ heads.  A familiar voice.

_Okay guys, it’s me, Blaze.  I can help you kill this thing, but you’re going to need to be ready.  On the count of ten, I’ll make him corporeal.  He’ll be able to interact with this world, so that’ll be your only chance to kill him.  I don’t know how long it’ll last, and it doesn’t mean he’s going to be a pushover, but at least you’ll have the jump on him.  Start counting._

“…So I used the little goblin here as a pawn in my effort to…”

_One…_

“…and then kill him, which I did…”

_Two…_

“…an item of interest, so I used…”

_Three…_

“…this dark elf’s amulet.  Might just be enough power…”

_Four…_

The Heroes were hardly listening to the creature.  A burning rage was all they felt.  They were going to have a chance to avenge the untimely death of one of their best friends.  

_Five…_

They had all thought about the moment when they met whoever was behind this.  They never once for a moment believed Grog was a part of this, and now they knew for sure.

_Six…_

Bink came to the call of a dejected Grog only to be kicked out of Baron partially due to the actions of Delroc.  He readied his spells…
_
Seven…_

“The Two” was fake.  Who knows how much else in the Prophecy was made up for this stupid plan?  Eltharion and Ogrim were seething with hate.

_Eight…_

All the rage.  All the hatred.  Grog had been influenced by this vile creature for almost a month now.  Unable to make any decisions, unable to do what he wanted.  He was alienated from all his friends because of this fiend.

_Nine…_

It was time for vengence.

_TEN!_


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## Hairy Minotaur (Mar 30, 2005)

Missed ya!


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## sandtiger (Mar 30, 2005)

Droid101 said:
			
		

> (All I can say is: Sorry!  Don't hate me forever please.     )
> 
> Can't .  Your story hour is way too good.
> 
> ...


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## Droid101 (Mar 30, 2005)

Sandtiger said:
			
		

> Can't .  Your story hour is way too good.
> 
> Geez, I don't understand why everyone isn't raving about this story hour.  Everytime you write (which isn't enough! -- hint, hint),
> you surprise/stun me with the happenings.
> ...



I don't know, everybody is racist against Droids, maybe?  Another update for my loyal followers!    

-------------------------------------

Bink calls upon the power of his newly acquired Book of Infinite Spells and casts a _blade barrier_ at Delroc.  Various blades spin into existence and fly toward the monster at high velocities.  The blades cut into it, spilling all sorts of brackish fluids as it calls out in pain.

Eltharion, Grog, Ogrim and Bloodthorne rush in, slashing with their weapons.  The thing’s thick skin buffets their blades away.

The Baronian guards, after overhearing the conversation, turn and run away, back toward the city.

Viknen envokes a _haste_ spell on Eltharion.

Then, things get strange.

Ogrim and Bloodthorne freeze in place.  As if time wasn’t passing for them at all.  Eltharion flashes a confused look, but doesn’t relent, slashing into Delroc some more, each time scoring minimal cuts.

Bink fires off a _lightning bolt_, but the bolt fizzles as it collides with Delroc.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for an eternity!” Delroc slashes out with its suddently vicious claws, tearing into Eltharion’s flesh.  “That felt sooo good!”

Bink then froze, but then Ogrim was able to move.  Ogrim slammed into Delroc with his warhammer; his Orc-Killer axe recently traded in Union.

Grog hacked at Delroc, also drawing minimal wounds.

All of a sudden, Grog, Bink, and Ogrim were frozen.  Bloodthorne spins and slashes to no avail.  Viknen’s eyes gloss over to sapphire blue, invoking a gaze attack, but it also had no effect.

Delroc floats back, pointing at Grog and unleashing a flux of space-time.  It wracks Grog’s unmoving body.

“Too easy,” Delroc chortles.

_This is the last help I can give… _   Blaze’s voice mysteriously sounding in the Heroes’ heads again.  _TEMPUS!!!!_

Everyone felt stronger all of a sudden.  Their weapons seem feather-light.

Grog swings with all his might, cutting a deep and terrible wound into Delroc’s flank.

Eltharion could move all of a sudden, and cut into Delroc as well.

A silver streak, and an arrow slams into Ogrim’s arm.  The pain is terrible, but he grits his teeth, looking to the source.  A fifteen foot tall, silver-skinned man with pristine wings stands, firing a glorious bow.  A trumpet sounds from behind him, and a familiar trumpet archon and hound archon step up to either side of the angel.  The Celestial Avengers.

“I knew we should have killed him…” Eltharion grumbles.

The hound angel and trumpeter angel both charge in, greatswords at the ready.

“Once again we find you consorting with a demon!” the hound shouts.

“We’re FIGHTING with it!” Eltharion calls out in frustration.

“Kill them all!” the silvery solar’s voice booms out over the battlefield.  It’s starting to rain.

“Friends?” Delroc asks, not really caring.  He turns to the onrushing angels.  Both of whom freeze in place when they get too close to him.  He touches the trumpeter, invoking some kind of temporal power.

Bink and Grog are able to move, and everyone else is frozen at that instant.  Bink casts yet another _blade barrier _ which cuts deeply into Delroc before he moves out of the way.  Grog slashes a few more times, each strike as though Blaze’s enhanced musculature was behind it.

Five arrows come streaking in, four of them striking home, but Ogrim’s unmoving form doesn’t flinch.

Bloodthorne is able to move, finally, and tumbles away from Delroc, sprinting toward the solar angel.  Eltharion does the same.

Viknen heals Ogrim, and then backs away from the battle.

Delroc touches the hound now, invoking that same temporal energy.  He then turns his attention to Grog.

Grog then freezes in place, but Ogrim is able to move.  He takes the opportunity to crack his hammer into Delroc with his newly acquired strength.  Delroc almost looks desperate.

The solar unleashes his huge greatsword, which begins to float and attack Bloodthorne on its own.  He turns his bow down at Eltharion and fires five arrows at point blank range.  Three of them strike hard, but Eltharion stays standing.  He and Bloothorne flank the solar, and then they both let loose.

Each of them sends out a flurry of blades.  Eltharion’s Sun-sickle and Moon-scimitar spin with unerring accuracy.  Bloodthorne’s twin longswords find all the most vulnerable spots.  After a flash and over ten thrusts, slashes, cuts, and jabs, the solar is severely staggered.

Grog freezes, and Delroc touches him, trying to invoke some temporal energies.  However, Grog is able to resist despite his unmoving state.

Ogrim takes that opening to slam his hammer into Delroc a few more times.

Bink unleashes yet another _blade barrier_.  The blades slash and cut into Delroc, who looks pretty thoroughly frustrated.

“Enough of that!” Delroc yells, pointing and sending a flux of space-time at Bink, who reels from the mental and physical anguish.

The solar waves a hand and heals himself completely.  His greatsword hacks into Bloodthorne several more time, but that doesn’t slow him or Eltharion down.  They go into their attack routines once again, and once again deal incredible damage to the hardy solar.  One last slash from Eltharion to the solar brings it down to one knee, and one last stab from Bloodthorne to the solar’s spinal cord ends the fight.

“The Celestial Avengers will never fall!” were the last words he spoke.

Miraculously, Ogrim, Grog and Bink are all able to move at the same time, and they make sure to make good use of that time.  Ogrim slams Delroc a few more times, another of Bink’s _blade barriers _ has Delroc’s floating quaver slightly.  

A final flurry from Grog, and all the rage he has built up over the past month, and Delroc hits the ground.  A gurgle and a flash of space-time sends the Heroes reeling, but the beast is dead.  The hound and trumpeter angels, both puff into dust, their essence already absorbed by the now-dead Delroc.

The party gets together, Viknen and Bink heal everyones wounds as best they can.  The Baronian guards are nowhere to be seen.

“How many enemies did you guys make while I was gone?” Bink asks incredulously.

How did Blaze talk to them from beyond the grave?  Or how did he imbue them with such power?  Can they help the dwarves reclaim their ancient homes?  Find out more, next time!


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## the Jester (Mar 30, 2005)

Excellent!  I'm glad you're back to it!


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## Droid101 (Apr 1, 2005)

Bink, Viknen, Bloodthorne, Ogrim, Eltharion and Grog make their way north.  They needed to catch up to the dwarves if they wanted to help them re-take their underground strongholds from the dark elves.

“We knew it wasn’t you, Grog.  We knew you couldn’t have done it…” Eltharion says, trying to comfort their obviously troubled friend.

“I’m fine now… don’t worry.  We got him, and I’m fine,” Grog says, with his high-pitched goblin voice.

“Anyone else figure out how Blaze talked to us?” Bink asks.

“Anyone else feel strange?” Eltharion asks, suddenly overcome with an odd, gut-wrenching feeling.

“Actually, yes…” Bink replies, getting a similar feeling.  They stop to look around.

“Wait!  Look, we can fight now, and maybe we’d win, maybe you’d win, but for sure, both sides would be severely weakened and probably unable to escape the battle up above,” Dendybar reasons calmly.  A flicker and two forms can be seen floating above everyone.  One is the dark elf with spiked out hair that they’ve faced so many times before.  The other is a dark cloaked creature with tentacles writhing from beneath its hood.  Ely Cromlich, with his golden arm and leg, stands next to Dendybar.

“What the hell?” Eltharion draws his weapons instantly.

“Somethin’ seems familiar…” Ogrim thinks a moment.

“Familiar?  Are you crazy?  Look, if we work together we can get out of here, okay?” Dendybar reiterates.  The rolling grassy hills around them fade and turn into the inside of a deep Oubliette.  And then changes back again.  Dendybar and the others vanish.  The Heroes are alone again.

“What’s going on?” Eltharion asks, still on edge.  The queasy feeling comes back.

The kukri-wielding skaven smiles a toothy smile to Bloodthorne as he throws an eight-hit combination at him.  Bloodthorne can’t dodge enough of the lightning-fast blade attacks, and collapses into a flesh-torn mass.

Ogrim shield-bashes the skaven, who flies backward from the powerful hit.  It flips to its feet and snarls evilly, and then vanishes.  Bloodthorne remains on the ground.

“Okay, this is not good, we need to hide somewhere!” Eltharion exclaims.

“It won’t do any good, the terrain is changing…” Bink says, as once again the grassy fields fade away and a darkened cave forms around them.  The Great Horned Rat, the fallen skaven God swings his glaive menacingly before dissipating.

“Hold on…” Ogrim says, still thinking.

Ogrim grits his teeth and slams into the first creature with a hard-pressed axe combination, splintering chitin with each blow.  Grog takes the opportunity to finish that one; distracted by the dwarf’s axe, Grog spins his katana over his head, his eyes filling with blood and his muscles expanding, he chops down, cracking through exoskeleton and brain matter.  The insect collapses.  Bink shoots off a set of _magic missiles_ at the insect fighting Eltharion.  It is weakened considerably from the bolt and missiles, but stays standing.

It takes one final punch to send Eltharion to the ground; a hit to the head spills blood over his face, and he collapses in a heap.  It takes a few quick steps to engage Bink. 

“Where are these things coming from!?” Bink unleashes another blast of arcane energies that fries and destroys the umber hulk completely.  Eltharion still lays unconscious.

“All this stuff happened in the past…” Ogrim says hesitantly.

“Wait a minute… we just fought the self proclaimed ‘Master of Time.’  Do you think…?” Bink doesn’t want to even think about it.

“Dis be some bad magics, mon,” the old gnoll, Viknen, mumbles.

 Bink quickly casts a _sending_ spell to Adlai.

_Adlai, things from the past attacking us, any ideas?_

And after a moment, a response.

_Prophecy speaks of time-flux.  This will continue to happen until you “make ultimate sacrifice.”  Need to head to time cavern._

Bink wasn’t with the rest of the group when they were transported back in time, previously.

“Is there any way to teleport us there?” Ogrim asks, knowing the answer is probably no.

“I’ve never been there…” Bink says.

“Me neither, now den,” Viknen replies.

“I have…” The Necromancer materializes next to the group.

“Necro!” Ogrim shouts.  “Good timing, friend.”

“Let’s get to that cave, and take care of business…” The Necromancer _teleports_ himself, Viknen, Ogrim, Bink and Grog to the time cavern.

The outside of the cavern is a shifting mass of temporal flux energy.  The statues of The Necromancer, Damaré, Ogrim and Eltharion out front have been demolished.  Ogrim and The Necromancer get that queasy feeling.

“Someone destroyed the statues of us!  They never made it to the future, and therefore we never teleported back to this time!” The Necromancer reasons.

“We have to do something, and fast!” Bink says, looking around and thinking.  “Adlai said something about the ultimate sacrifice.”

Grog didn’t hesitate.  He took up his intelligent katana, concentrating.

_Brave one, you know what to do. _  His blade speaks to him.  He sprints forward and jumps into the swirling temporal energy.

“Grog, no!” Bink yells.  Their vision goes white.  They can see nothing.  They can feel nothing.

They are in a building.

The Necromancer, Viknen, Bink and Ogrim are laying on the ground.

“Are, are you all right?” a man asks.  He shakes Ogrim.

“Wha, what’re ye about?” Ogrim stands, as does everyone else.

“Are you all right, sir?  I sent a summons for you a while ago,” the man says.  Ogrim recognizes him.

“Mannquelin?” Ogrim states.

 “Right, anyway.  I have summoned you here to ask you a favor.  As you know, White has been sick for over a week now.  None of the pharmacists who have looked at him know what it is.  I had a shaman come from the Isle of the Barbarians off the east coast, and he gave me the recipe for the cure.  Moonleaf and Thrulk tusk are the ones we don’t have.  Ulgrim, Trisha and Krin are going to find the Thrulk in the northern swamplands.  However, they need you to retrieve the Moonleaf from the great Tormyr Forest, the only place it is known to grow.  We need it in 3 weeks… we’re counting on you.”  Mannquelin seems out of breath, but his stature holds firm. 

Bink and The Necromancer are confused by the statement.  Viknen tilts his head.

Ogrim’s eyes go wide in terror.


----------



## Droid101 (Apr 4, 2005)

*APRIL FOOL'S POST!  THE PREVIOUS POST DID NOT ACTUALLY HAPPEN!!*

April Fools!

So I'm building to a climactic battle against the dark elves on two fronts simultaneously (dwarven stronghold and Baronian Kingdoms) and you think I'm gonna side track this much?  And The Necromancer showing up randomly?  

Yeah, like I'm going to do that.

So disregard that last post, it was a joke, fabricated, made up, false, whatever.  Not real.

See you soon for the next update: The Heroes form a plan of attack, and the introduction of Jelodia Greenleaf.  Be prepared!


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## weiknarf (Apr 5, 2005)

Well, I bit hook line and sinker.


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## Droid101 (Apr 5, 2005)

Bink, Viknen, Bloodthorne, Ogrim, Eltharion and Grog make their way north.  They needed to catch up to the dwarves if they wanted to help them re-take their underground strongholds from the dark elves.

“We knew it wasn’t you, Grog.  We knew you couldn’t have done it…” Eltharion says, trying to comfort their obviously troubled friend.

“I’m fine now… don’t worry.  We got him, and I’m fine,” Grog says, with his high-pitched goblin voice.

“Anyone else figure out how Blaze talked to us?” Bink asks.

“I don’t care.  He helped us, and that’s all that matters,” Eltharion replies.

“True,” Ogrim says.  “What happened to the guards?”

“Ran off.  Good riddance, I say,” Bloodthorne says.

Bink casts a _teleport _ to get them to the Adventurer’s Guildhall.  They materialize out in front of the large keep.  They head in.  Behind the desk is sitting the brightly colored fop, Basil Evans.  He stands as they approach.

“Ah, adventurers!  Just so you know, we’re pretty empty.  With the impending war, and the dark elves’ army marching on us and Baron, nobody is stopping in anymore,” Basil explains.

“That’s what we thought.  Is there anyone here?  We need a drink…” Eltharion says.

“Drinks!” Grog exclaims, not having had any in months.

“Certainly, myself and Wren Black are the only ones here,” Basil leads them to the gathering hall and bar.  A man wearing all black is drinking alone.  He stands when the Heroes approach.

“Well met, I think we’ve met before…” Wren says.

“Possibly, we’ve passed through here before,” Bink says.

Basil breaks out the drinks, and everyone partakes.

“To Blaze,” Eltharion toasts.  Everyone drinks heartily.

“Did a large group of dwarves pass by here?” Ogrim asks.

“Actually, yesterday an army of dwarves marched past us, north toward the mountains.  They were moving extremely quickly.  Magic, I assume,” Basil says.

“We’ve no time to lose!” Ogrim says, hopping up.

“We can teleport there, worry not,” Bink says.  Ogrim sits back down, taking another swig of stout lager.

“Can you send a message to the dwarven king or one of his advisors, asking where they’re at?” Eltharion asks.

“Sure,” Bink says, casting a _sending_ spell.

_Ogrim, Eltharion, Bloodthorne, Bink, Grog, and Viknen want to help retake the strongholds.  Please respond._

A few moments later, a response comes to Bink’s mind.

_Staging the attackin two days, in the evening.  Join us at the south entrance of the mountain range._

“Looks like we have two days to rest here,” Bink says.  

The Heroes rest and relax for the rest of that day.  The next morning, they eat and talk more with Basil and Wren.

“So, what are your plans?  Going to stay here and watch the dark elves destroy the Guildhall?” Grog asks them.

“I was thinking about it.  But I guess we’ll have to abandon it soon.  Not like we can defend against an army…” Basil says.

“Speak for yourself,” Wren chuckles.

“You are welcome to go to Sigil.  We have a large mansion there in the busy part of town, we’re going to be turning it into a tavern and possibly a new guild.  We could make it an offshoot of the Adventurer’s Guildhall…” Eltharion muses.

“We’ll definitely give it a thought,” Basil says, nudging Wren with an elbow.

“Oh, forgot to tell you, there was a strange tree outside the Guildhall for the past few days.  There haven’t been any trees near here in ages, and all of a sudden, there it was,” Wren says.

“I don’t remember seeing one…” Eltharion looks quizzical.  He walks out front to look, but sees nothing.

“Hm, gone as abruptly as it appeared.  Strange,” Basil says.

That afternoon, they once again gather for dinner in the meeting hall.  The large skull of a dragon hangs over them ominously.

“You could always come with us to help with the dwarves,” Bink says.

“I don’t know…” Wren is hesitant.

Just then, the front doors are heard loudly creaking open.  Everyone stands to see who’s coming in.

Adlai and Damaré walk in.  They approach.  Adlai looks down, trying to avoid eye contact.  Damaré walks right up, shaking Eltharion’s hand.

“Guys, you think I would have let you all leave without me?  Why didn’t you come find me when you were summoned to the castle?  I wouldn’t have stood there idly while you got banished,” Damaré says.

“Sorry!  There’s so many of us that sometimes it’s hard to keep track,” Eltharion replies.

“Wat about de other one?” Viknen motions to Adlai.

Everybody waits for Adlai to speak.  He looks up, but doesn’t.  They wait a minute longer.

“I’m really sorry… I really had no choice…” Adlai says slowly.

“Adlai, we don’t care.  You’re here now, and that’s all that matters,” Eltharion holds out his hand.  Adlai shakes it hesitantly.

“What happened?  Why did you come?” Bink asks.

“Well, when the guards got back they reported what Delroc said.  Everything about the ancient prophecies being false.  This fit right in with their scheme that the Prophet is the only one who knows the real truth, and the whole cult phenomenon.  They banished me for supplying false information,” Adlai shakes his head slowly.  “And for being half-elf.”

“You’re always welcome with us, friend,” Eltharion says.

“Isn’t Enzonito half-elf?” Ogrim asks.

“Yeah, but you think they’re going to banish one of their best warriors?  Baron is putting all these strict laws into place that only matter if you’re NOT close with their government…” Adlai shakes his head once again.

“Geez, everything The Necromancer said was true.  Baron is going too far…” Eltharion says, remembering their conversation with him, just before faking his death.

“Somebody say my name?” The Necromancer’s voice can be heard next to the bar.  They see him sitting there, sipping Ogrim’s beer.  “A bit strong.”

“Nekky!” Eltharion calls out.  “What in Grumbar’s gravel are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know me, I can’t stay out of a fight.  If you guys were determined to fight with Baron until the end, I had to join in.  Came here, and was going to launch my own personal offensive on their ranks from the north while they pounded you to the south,” The Necromancer grins wickedly.  “The real question is, what are YOU doing here?  Shouldn’t you be in Baron?”

“They banished us,” Ogrim states.

“I hate to say I told you so…”

“Then don’t!” everyone says in unison.

“So what’s the plan?  Gonna let Baron fall?  I figure we can still help them out in the battle, even if they don’t want us there,” The Necromancer says.

“We’re planning on going to help the dwarves retake their stronghold,” Ogrim says.

“Or we can do that, fine by me, they saved our lives once,” The Necromancer says.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, so rest up,” Ogrim says, grabbing his lager back and finishing it.

The next day, they gather for lunch at midday.

“Everybody ready?” Ogrim asks as they eat.

“I’m ready to slaughter some dark elves…” Eltharion narrows his eyes.

They finish their meal, and have another round of drinks.  Once again, the door creaks open loudly.  Once again everybody stands to see who enters.

A beautiful, lithe, dark haired elf enters.  Her skin is olive, her features delicate.  She carries a gnarled staff and wears light flowing green robes of pure silk.

“We welcome you to the Adventurer’s Guildhall, fair maiden, and we are at your service,” Basil says, his foppish hat jingling.

“My name is Jelodia Greenleaf.  I’m looking for Ogrim, Grog, Bink, and Eltharion.  I need your help,” the elf speaks softly.  “I’m going to stop the dark elves, once and for all.  Will you help?”

Who is this girl?  What does she have in store?  How can she stop the dark elves?  Too good to be true?  Find out next time!


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## sandtiger (Apr 6, 2005)

Okay, okay, I'll say it yet again.  Dang I love this story hour. 

It was nice to see them have some down time. Also, l laughed out loud at this point (thanks, people at work are worried):

----------------
 “Oh, you know me, I can’t stay out of a fight. If you guys were determined to fight with Baron until the end, I had to join in. Came here, and was going to launch my own personal offensive on their ranks from the north while they pounded you to the south,” The Necromancer grins wickedly. “The real question is, what are YOU doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Baron?”

“They banished us,” Ogrim states.

“I hate to say I told you so…”

“Then don’t!” everyone says in unison.
---------------

Is the tree related to Jelodia?

Hmmm, another random thought.  Did you give away your contest here?  If so, I claim it.

----------------
My name is Jelodia Greenleaf. I’m looking for Ogrim, Grog, Bink, and Eltharion. I need your help,” the elf speaks softly. “I’m going to stop the dark elves, once and for all. Will you help?”
----------------

By the way, you caught me on the April Fool's post.  I went back and re-read everything.  Then re-read it again, then ....

Thanks again for writing.

Sandtiger


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## Droid101 (Apr 6, 2005)

Thanks for reading.


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> Is the tree related to Jelodia?



Yep.


			
				sandtiger said:
			
		

> Hmmm, another random thought.  Did you give away your contest here?  If so, I claim it.
> 
> ----------------
> My name is Jelodia Greenleaf. I’m looking for Ogrim, Grog, Bink, and Eltharion. I need your help,” the elf speaks softly. “I’m going to stop the dark elves, once and for all. Will you help?”
> ----------------



Nope.  She only knows the most famous members of the group, which are the ones who have been together the longest.  Which aren't necessarily all of the PCs.  Nice try, though.


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## weiknarf (May 1, 2005)

Who is this girl? What does she have in store? How can she stop the dark elves? Too good to be true? I'm dyin' to know!


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## Droid101 (May 18, 2005)

...


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## sandtiger (Jun 21, 2005)

*Update Please*

Hey,

It's been awhile (months, sigh), but I wanted to say I still want you to update this story hour.  

I am still interested in finding out what happens and miss your writing.

Sandtiger


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## the Jester (Jun 21, 2005)

I understand how busy life stuff can take away from the SH writing time. 

HOWEVER- 

Please don't forget about this one!  It's good fun!  I'm not saying today or next weekend, I'm just saying _eventually._


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## Droid101 (Jul 19, 2005)

“Excuse me?” Bink asks with a puzzled look on his face.

“Yeah, you forgot me!” Damaré says as he takes a step up to the beautiful elven maiden.  “I’m Damaré, how you doing?”

“Right…” Jelodia steps back, smiling.  “I am only familiar with the four I mentioned, sorry.”

“Familiar?” Eltharion says, as he takes a knee.  “I’m familiar with you.  You’re the most powerful druid in all of Aldor-Valencia.  I aspire to attain the kind of power you control…”

“Yes, you four have been together the longest, as far as I can tell.  I’ve heard many stories of your groups’ exploits,” Jelodia says, as she blushes slightly.  “And thank you…” 

“Interestin’…” Ogrim grunts.

“So… you need our help?” The Necromancer says.

“Yes, I have come because I have a plan to destroy the dark elves plans for good,” Jelodia responds.

“Why don’t you detail your plan, so we can tell you if we want to help,” Bink reasons.

“Of course.  Please, allow me to sit,” Jelodia says, as she walks smoothly into the meeting hall and has a seat.

“Drink?” Ogrim slams a mug down in front of her, filled with ale.

“Thank you…”

“You sure have a way with the ladies,” The Necromancer says with a smirk.

“All right, so my plan…” Jelodia starts, as she sniffs the mug before her.  “As you may know, the dark elves have taken over Brunswick castle.  They also have taken over the dwarven strongholds in the northern mountains.  Combine this with the fact that they are staging an attack on the Kingdom of Baron, and have their own city below the surface, and they have seriously thinned out troops.”

“She’s got a point…” Wren nods at Basil, and then to the Heroes.

“I saw the dwarves, led by the fallen Moradin, marching back toward their stronghold.  They have no intent of being pushed away,” Jelodia says.

“Damn straight!” Ogrim adds.

“So, with an army keeping them busy to the north, and an army keeping them busy to the south, Brunswick is open for attack,” Jelodia says, and lets it sink in a moment.

“You want us to storm the castle?” Eltharion asks, intruiged.

“Exactly.  But, I wouldn’t be asking for such brash action.  I have a very powerful spell, High Magic, which will destroy the castle,” Jelodia says matter-of-factly.

“Then why do you need our help?” Adlai asks.

“I have to be inside the castle to cast it, and it takes an hour to take effect.  During that time, I will be vulnerable, and need to be protected,” Jelodia says.

“Ah…” the Heroes nod in unison.

“I was going to try this either way, help or no, but of course our chances of success increase dramatically if I have a team of skilled adventurers backing me up,” Jelodia says.

“I’m in,” Eltharion says, no hesitation at all.

“Well, let me just say, that chances for survival are slim to none.  I will not be making it out of the castle after my spell is cast, and I don’t imagine that any of you will, either,” Jelodia pauses.  “This is a one way trip, so please make your decision with that in mind.  We go in, we destroy their main staging ground on the surface.  If Baron and the dwarves act accordingly, the dark elves will have nowhere to go but back underground.”

“But none of us live to see it…” Damaré says slowly.

Jelodia merely nods.

“How long do we have to decide?” Bink asks, then realizes his answer.  “The dwarves are mounting their attack on the stronghold in two days.  If I send a missive to Enzonito, I can have them strike out from the Wall of Baron at the same time.”

“Exactly.  Two days then.  Take your time and make your choice,” Jelodia stands, and walks to the door.  “I’ll be around.”

The Heroes sit, quiet for a few moments.

“I don’t be knowin’ what else I’m gonna be doin,’” Viknen says, breaking the silence.  “So I be in, now den.”

“I’m in.  I’ll do anything to stop the dark elves…” Eltharion growls.

“You guys got banished and I couldn’t help you, now I’m gonna help as best I can.  I’m in,” Damaré says.

“Peace to the world, glory to my race.  I’m in,” Ogrim states.

“Where else am I gonna get a chance to die?  Count this bloke in,” Bloodthorne says.

“I’m fighting so Blaze didn’t die for nothing.  I’m in,” Grog says, clutching Blaze’s re-fitted gauntlet he’s wearing.

“What better way to test if I’m invincible… I’m in,” Bink chuckles.

“You think the battle that determines the fate of the world will be won without me?  I’m _so_ in,” The Necromancer grins with glee.

Everyone looks at Adlai.

“I failed you guys before, and I am determined to make sure I make it up to you.  I’m in, and I’m not going to stop until you know I’m on your side…” Adlai says proudly.

“Adlai, get over it.  We have,” Eltharion shakes his head, smiling.  “So, you two, what are you going to do?”

Basil and Wren look at each other.

“You said you have a place in Sigil, did you?” Wren asks.  “We could hold down the fort there until you return…”

“If we return…” Damaré says with a shrug.

“Good plan.  Bellamy Bill is our seneschal there, he could use some help getting everything set up,” Eltharion says, nodding.

“So this is it then?  Our last battle?  Dying to save Aldor-Valencia?” Grog asks.

“As long as we can take them with us…” Eltharion grits his teeth.

The Heroes talk and drink for a while, when Jelodia finally returns.

“Have you made your decision?” she asks.

“We’re in,” Bink says triumphantly.

“Excellent.  Now, I need to go over some specifics.  Before we can go, I need to retrieve a powerful component that is used in my spell.  I’ll need three of you to go with me,” Jelodia says.

“What do you need?” Adlai asks.

“A tooth from the mightiest beast that lives.  A tooth from the Tarrasque.”

Will this be the end for the Heroes?  Will the Tarrasque be the end for the Heroes before their siege on Brunswick?  Does the plan sound insane, or what?  All these questions, and more, will be answered, next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Jul 22, 2005)

...


----------



## sandtiger (Jul 23, 2005)

Okay,

I was trying to wait, so I could thank you and give you a bump at the same time   

However, since you came back with a vengeance, I just had to say "hi" and "thank you".

Your first post in which they all agreed to commit suicide (heh), made me worry even further for their sanity.  However, they showed remarkable restraint running from the Tarrasque.  Surprised me.  

Something occurred to me which I am not sure of.  Can they not teleport out of Brunswick Castle when it collapses?  Is there a block?

I don't want them to die!!!!

Tnaks for taking the time to write these up.  Hope your enjoying the job changes.

Immensely pleased,

Sandtiger


----------



## Droid101 (Jul 26, 2005)

The rest of that day is spent planning and discussing.

They give all the belongings that they don’t feel they’ll need in the fight to Basil and Wren, who will take them to their mansion in Sigil.

“So, Jelodia, now can you tell us what your big plan is, so that we can be ready to support you properly?” Eltharion asks.

“Absolutely,” Jelodia replies.  “The High Magic spell that I have created is very powerful, but also dependant on a material component.  What the spell does, is it transforms me into a tree, and I will grow extremely fast.”

“A tree?  That’s it?” The Necromancer scoffs.  “We’re going to bring down the dark elves with a tree?”

“The strength of the component from a creature of this earth will decide the speed and size I attain.  Since we retrieved a tooth from the most powerful creature alive, my growth will be immense.  Enough to bring the entire castle down around me, and destroy any inside it,” Jelodia finishes.

“Oh…” The Necromancer nods.

“But, remember, the dark elves are no laughing matter.  They will defend their holdings with fervor.  We have to be prepared for the worst,” Jelodia reminds them.

“We can handle anything they can throw at us,” Eltharion’s teeth are already grinding.

“As you know, the Gods have fallen and walk Aldor-Valencia.  The dwarven God, Moradin, joined the dwarves.  So, we must assume that Lloth, the God of Chaos and the Drow, will be with them,” Jelodia says calmly.

The Heroes go pale.

“W-well, we killed that rat-God, right?” Grog questions.

“Yes, but he was a lesser God before he fell.  And the fight certainly wasn’t easy…” The Necromancer says.  “Lloth is one of the highest powers out there…”

“The way I understand it, there will be certain creatures guarding the castle.  Once we are found out, they will send a small force from their front lines at Baron.  If they receive no response from them, or get another distress call, then they will send more and more powerful things back from their front line.  If it actually seems as though the castle will fall, they will no doubt send their most powerful generals, including Lloth, back to the castle to stop us.  That is the way I see it unfolding,” Jelodia says.

“So, you’re saying I have a shot to kill Lloth…” Eltharion’s eyes glint with hatred.

“Don’t get ahead of yerself, we’re there to do a job,” Ogrim settles his friend down.

“Another reason I wanted to contact all of you, is that I have heard that you know Castle Brunswick very well.  I need to know the best place to start casting my spell.  The lowest spot in the castle, where the base of the darkness-emitting spire is, and the place we can most easily defend,” Jelodia says.

“Lowest spot… hm…” Bink wonders.

“The Oubliette,” Adlai says.  Everyone nods.

“That might mean we have a way to escape, through the portal to Sigil down there!” Eltharion says.  

“We should really scry the place, see what has changed,” Adlai says.  “See how low the spire goes.”

“Who can you scry in there?” Bink asks.

“Well, nobody, but I can try to scry the portal in the Oubliette, and I can also try the teleportation device, if they haven’t destroyed it yet,” Adlai says.

“Oh wonderful, they have that too…” Damaré says.

Basil brings Adlai a mirror with which to scry.  Everybody gathers around to watch closely.

“First, the teleportation device,” Adlai says, as he starts his arcane incantation.

An image swirls into view on the mirror.  The room looks much the same as when they were there, rock-walls that were teleported into the castle when the device first arrived.  However, they notice a few things different.  First, there is a small glass-looking cylindrical object jutting off the wall about six feet up.  Second, there are several dark elves wearing white clothing, inspecting the device, and taking notes.

“Hm, they probably don’t know how to use it yet, that’s good,” Ogrim says.

“Can you detect magic through the scry?” Eltharion asks.

“Yes, doing it now…” Adlai casts the detection spell through the scry-mirror.  “The entire place seems full of abjuration, and the little glass thing has a lesser abjuration inside it as well.”

“Hm… it’s probably a viewing device.  If we get near it, it will see us and alert someone to our presence,” Bink reasons.

“Possibly.  What about the spell hanging in the air?” Eltharion asks.

“_Dimensional Anchor_.  I know because they put it up before they even took over the castle.  Remember during the battle at Brunswick, we couldn’t teleport?” The Necromancer says.

“Damn… so we really will be stuck in there,” Eltharion shakes his head.

“But the dark elves will fall, friend,” Ogrim reassures Eltharion.

“Okay, scry the Oubliette now,” Damaré reminds him.

“All right,” Adlai ends his first spell, and scrys again.

The image that comes into view is nothing like how the Oubliette used to be.  The shape is the same, 80 foot wide circular chamber that goes up about 100 feet, with a staircase spiraling along the side to get to the secret passage from the jail area above.  The bottom, instead of the cells, are large holes in the walls scattered around.  In the center, the black, rune-covered spire sits, extending the entire chamber, and on up to cast its darkness.  The room is covered in spider-webs.

“Ouch… that’s ugly,” Adlai says.  Everybody nods.

They see two of those glass-cylinders on the sides of the spire.  Also, they see two driders (half dark elf, half spiders) milling about, tending to the spire.

“Detect magic,” The Necromancer says.

Adlai does so, and looks around.

“Much the same, except I see two abjuration auras overlapping, and of course the small abjuration in the glass-things,” Adlais explains.

“Probably an alarm spell and the dimensional anchor,” Bink surmises.

“That is where we I must place myself for the casting.  I must be at the base of the spire to ensure its destruction,” Jelodia says.

“Then we plan around this,” Eltharion says.

“Can you scry anywhere else?” Ogrim asks.

“I can try the jail, so we can see the path we need to take to get to the Oubliette,” Adlai casts another scrying spell.

The image that appears is the jail.  Three cells on each side, faerie fire light instead of torches or sunlight, two glass-cylinders on the walls, and a huge, 20-foot tall metal humanoid standing in the middle, motionless.

“Golem, no problem,” Bloodthorne puts in.

Ogrim is pale.

“Aint no iron golem, you fool.  It’s made of adamantium…” Ogrim says slowly.

“You’re not serious are you…” The Necromancer says, deflated.

“I am,” Ogrim reassures him.

“Well, I’ve read up on adamantium golems, and that’s it for us.  We can’t take it down.  It’s impossible,” The Necromancer crosses his arms.

“Nothing’s impossible,” Eltharion says.

“Look, I like playing the big badass as much as you all do, but we can’t beat that thing.  It’s not possible.  I’m sorry, really, I wish we could…” The Necromancer pauses.

“You, _wish_?” Bink says slyly.

“I… I could try to _wish_ that I was the creator, then I’d have control of it…” The Necromancer says, pondering.

“You can cast _wish_ and you never told us Nekky??” Eltharion says, agast.

“It’s not a freaking toy!” The Necromancer replies.

“Can I get some new armor?” Grog asks.

“Can I get a new sword?” Eltharion asks.

“Can I get a pony?” Bink chuckles.

“Can you kill me?” Bloodthorne pleads.

“NO!  No, no, and no,” The Necromancer shakes his head, pointing at each person in succession.  “You remember the last time you had new armor Grog, you have like 50 swords already Elth, you can summon your own damn pony Bink, and you can’t freaking die Bloodthorne!”

“Okay, so that’s the plan then?  Stroll in, control the golem, take the Oubliette, cast a spell, and save the world?” Damaré asks, incredulous.

“Yep.”

Can the plan work?  Will anyone be able to escape?  Will Bink get a pony?  Tune in next time!


----------



## Droid101 (Jul 27, 2005)

“Well, let’s go to Sigil, show Wren and Basil where we’re at and set up any final stuff in case we don’t make it back,” Bink says, preparing his _plane shift _ and _teleportations_.

Bink, Wren, Ogrim, Eltharion, and Basil all shift into the Outlands, and quickly _teleport_ into the bustling planar metropolis that is Sigil.

“Oi, welcome!!” Bellamy Bill exclaims as he welcomes the Heroes back to their mansion.

“Hello Bellamy.  We’re just dropping some stuff off.  Get everything up and running as soon as you can.  Wren and Basil will help you out if you need it,” Eltharion motions to them.

“Surely.  Oi, and a letter arrived from someone in a place called Union.  Says yer swords and yer axe are all ready,” Bellamy explains.

“They’re early!  How fortunate!” Ogrim clasps his hands together eagerly.

“I guess we have one last stop before we head back to Aldor-Valencia then.  Union it is,” Eltharion says.

“When did you guys go to Union?  I’ve never been,” Bink asks.

“Oh, you were off in hell on a date with your girlfriend,” Eltharion muses.

“If you mean ‘In hell killing a greater devil lord general of the ruler of the second layer,’ then yes, yes I was,” Bink furrows his brow.

They bid Wren, Basil and Bellamy good bye, and head through Sigil to the gate leading to the trade-city of Union.

The blue-skinned, ten-foot-tall humanoid mercanes could be seen ushering people in and out of the gateway, charging, of course, for the right to trade.  Eltharion and Ogrim have their passes from the last time they visited, and they were still valid.

“How about your friend there?” one of the mercanes asks.

“Oh, I’m not buying anything today,” Bink’s eyes glow and his robes flash.

The mercane nods.  Nobody knows if it was by his own will or Bink’s.

They head through the city floating in space.  It takes a while, but finally they reach the magic district, and make their way to the fiendish gargoyle’s magic shop, Suplindh’s.

Suplindh nods as they enter, his black horns and stony face betray his soft robes.

“Ah, I remember you.  The one who needed all the scimitars.  And you had the… axe and silver cloth,” Suplindh says.

“Yes!  They’re ready early, then?” Eltharion asks.

“Yes, I was able to find the axe, which would have taken the longest to craft, and the rest is history,” he retreats into the back room, coming out with some black cases.  After three trips, the table is filled.

Eltharion opens the four small cases, attaching the two holy silver and two holy cold iron scimitars to his belt.  Ogrim opens the large case and inspects the large cold iron battle axe.  He places the silver cloth on it, and it instantly grafts, changing the material of the blade to silver.  He then removes the cloth and puts it away.

“Nice!” Ogrim nods in approval.

“Thank you guys, nice doing business with you,” Suplindh says with a smile.  The Heroes head out.

“Okay, let’s not waste any more time,” Bink prepares another _plane shift,_ and after their reality shifts, they are back on the prime material plane.  A _teleport_ later, and they are in the Adventurer’s Guildhall.

“Okay Adlai, you send a message to someone in Baron, and I’ll get the king of the dwarves,” Bink says, getting ready to coordinate their attack.

Both of them cast their spells, and await responses.

_Tomorrow night, at the time of your attack, we will be attacking Brunswick Castle.  Keep them busy as best you can._  Bink sends to Strumdar Goldensoul, king of the dwarves.

_Tomorrow night the dwarves are hitting their stronghold and we’re hitting Brunswick Castle, try to make an attack to distract the army if possible. _  Adlai sends to Enzonito.

“I sent my message to Enzonito, because since I was banished, I don’t know if it would be a good idea to send it to the king himself,” Adlai says.

“Good idea, he was always more reasonable,” Bink replies.

_We attack tomorrow night at six.  The battle will be glorious and we wish you the blessing of Moradin for yours._  Bink gets the message back in his head.

“We’re good to go with the dwarves,” Bink says.

_I’ll see what I can convince the king to do.  No promises.  Will send another message to you tomorrow morning._  Adlai receives his message from Enzonito.

“Hm, no good news from Baron yet.  Enzo will send me another message tomorrow with status,” Adlai looks down.  “Hope they can work it out…”

“Where exactly are we teleporting in?  Or are we just going to walk through the city?” Eltharion asks.

“Let’s go scouting Elth.  You have the power to look like a dark elf, right?  And I can shapeshift into a spider or something, I can be your pet!” The Necromancer chuckles.

“Good idea,” Eltharion concentrates, and his skin turns black, and his hair white.

“Not bad,” The Necromancer casts _shapechange_ and turns into a small spider, who hops up onto Eltharion’s shoulder.  He then hops down, and changes back to normal.  “Let’s do it.”

The Necromancer readies their _teleportation_.

It is raining.  It is dark.  Almost pitch black.  The disk of darkness emanating from the spire grows slowly, blocking out the sunlight above the castle and its surroundings.

The bridge crossing over into the city seems intact.  The Necromancer casts _mindlink_ and then shifts to spider form, hopping back onto Eltharion.

_Let’s check it out._  The Necromancer’s mind says directly to Eltharion’s.

Eltharion walks across the bridge, into the city.  The rain soaks him quickly, but he merely pulls on his hood and continues.

Many of the buildings are destroyed.  Some are still standing, but it’s obvious that the insides have been gutted, as many raging bonfires can be seen inside, with kobolds and goblins sitting around drinking and eating.  Eerie faerie fire lights the main roads.

_They’ve destroyed this place… I don’t know if we want it back now…  _ Eltharion thinks to The Necromancer.

They continue on, seeing more and more of the kobolds and engineered goblins.  As they approach the castle, they see some strange mechanical devices.  They are large, and have kobolds inside of them, controlling them.  Their movements are clumsy.

_Those look like golems, but with kobolds inside controlling them? _  Eltharion asks.

_The designs look dwarvish.  Perhaps they pilfered them when they took over the dwarven stronghold, and are trying to learn how to use them properly. _  The Necromancer points one of his little spider legs toward a dark elf taskmaster, overseeing the kobolds, and whipping any who get out of line.

They reach the castle, and next to it, where there used to be a stable, there is a large cage, with a strange looking tentacled creature.  It looks like a troll, tall, greenish, leathery skin and long features, but it has many tentacles spouting from its body, and its eyes are glazed over, with clearly no conscious thought.  It is ravenously tearing through a pile of meat that has been thrown in by a muscular orc.

_Very, very strange. _  Eltharion thinks.

_Agreed._  The Necromancer wiggles his spider abdomen.

Eltharion confidently reaches the large doorway to the castle, and pushes it open.  Inside, the main hall looks similar, but twised.  The pearly white columns and walls appear black.  The bright light that used to illuminate the hall has been replaced by the sickly green and purple faerie fire.  Above the throne there is a strange symbol carved directly into the wall.  The throne is intact, but it looks dirty and used.

And, at that moment in time, it is used, by a dark elf in a long white coat.  He has a pair of goggles propped up on his forehead, and is examining an object with something that looks like a tiny telescope, placed directly against his eye.

Eltharion approaches the throne and kneels.

_I’m going to scout. _  The Necromancer hops off Eltharion and scuttles off into the side passage.

“I am here to report,” Eltharion says in Undercommon.  “Everything around the castle is secure.  No sign of the humans.”

“Hm,” the dark elf puts his viewing device down.  “I could get used to all this bowing stuff.  Who told you to report to me?”

“I am of House Deblora, and I have taken it upon myself to ensure the safety of the city,” Eltharion thought quickly, and came up with the name of the dark elves who had attacked them long ago.

“Ah, well, good then,” the dark elf replies.

“Is there someone else in charge that I should report to?” Eltharion asks.

“No, everyone important is leading the charge toward Baron right about now.  They should fall within the week,” the dark elf seems confident.

“We can only hope,” Eltharion says, standing up.

_I want to kill him so bad. _  Eltharion thinks to The Necromancer.

_Control yourself, we are here for info only, don’t start trouble. _  The Necromancer thinks back.

A kobold comes from another room.  He is wearing shabby clothes, and has a strange looking glowing collar around his neck.  He is carrying a tray of what looks like assorted glazed insects and fungi.  The dark elf takes one and eats it.

“You know, I have developed something, I think you should see it,” the dark elf says, producing a long syringe from his coat pocket.  He jams it into the kobold’s neck, and releases its contents into the creature.  The kobold drops the tray and falls to the ground, shaking violently.

Tentacles begin to sprout from the kobold, overtaking him.  He hops up, a mass of flesh, gibbering, and approaches the dark elf.  The glowing collar has fallen off…

…and the symbol behind the throne lights up a dull glow, and blackness surrounds the tentacled kobold, and it vanishes with a pop.

“This new mixture instantly turns the lowliest being into an almost invincible soldier, instantly!” the dark elf says.

“But that one tried to attack you,” Eltharion tries to stay cool.

“Well, we still have trouble controlling them,” the dark elf admits.  “But the potential is there.  Inject several soldiers while they’re engaging the front lines of combat, and the tides will turn quickly.”

“Looks like it can be very useful,” Eltharion says through gritted teeth.  “I’m going to get back out there.  Good luck with your research.”

“But of course,” the dark elf nods, going back to inspecting an object.

_I’m out.  Tell me what you can see. _  Eltharion thinks as he walks out of the castle, and through the town.

_Lots of stuff.  Went to the jail, saw the adamantium golem.  Went down the hall, saw some room with a glowing portal like thing.  Not sure what that was all about.  Going down another hall now… _ The Necromancer relays to Eltharion.  _Oh, wow, this room smells terrible, lots of dead bodies piled up in here.  Okay, going upstairs… ah!  The teleportation device is here, ah.  Okay, I’m getting out, I think I’ve seen enough._

Eltharion gets back to the spot they initially showed up at, and The Necromancer appears next to him in a moment.

“Good work Nekky,” Eltharion says, placing his hand on The Necromancer’s shoulder.  “Now let’s kick their asses.”

They _teleport_ back to the Adventurer’s Guildhall.

The pressure is mounting, the day of the attack has arrived!  How will the Heroes fare?  Is this plan too crazy to work?  Did Eltharion want to try some glazed bug?  Find out next update!!


----------



## Droid101 (Sep 29, 2005)

The next morning arrives.

Everyone prepares in their usual way.

Grog practices a few swings with his katana, Murasame.

Damaré polishes his spiked chain.

Ogrim tries the silver cloth on his cold iron axe, grunting in approval.

Adlai sulks while putting on his dazzling plate armor, complete with the seal of Brunswick.

Eltharion checks inventory on all of his various blades.

The Necromancer reads his spellbooks.

Bink fires off some prestigitations.

Bloodthorne fantasizes about his own death.

Viknen prepares his tribal incantations.

Jelodia checks the components for her High Magic.

“Adlai, I never knew you wore armor?  I thought you were some kind of wizard,” Eltharion asks.

“Hey, I can fight and I can cast spells.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m multi-talented,” Adlai responds.

“Good deal!”

“Well, I gave all our extra gear to Wren and Basil.  They’ll be taking it to our mansion in Sigil,” Bink says.

“So den we be off, now den?” Viknen’s old hunched gnoll body is supported by his crooked staff.

“I’ll do the _sending_ to the dwarves and to Enzonito to commence their attacks, and we’ll be off,” Adlai says, a little trepidation in his voice.

“We’re ready,” The Necromancer says with all the confidence in the world.

Adlai sends his messages.

“Time to teleport,” Adlai says.

The Necromancer and Adlai both cast _teleportation_ spells.

Grog, Bink, Eltharion, Ogrim, Damaré, The Necromancer, Jelodia, Adlai, Bloodthorne, and Viknen appear in a hallway of Brunswick castle, just outside the small cellblock prison.  Coming down the hall are two dark elven guards.  They draw weapons and charge immediately.

Eltharion spins to meet them, his two new silver scimitars out in a flash.  Grog charges forward and jams his katana into the flank of a guard, and Ogrim’s axe finishes him.  Damaré’s spiked chain brings the other to the ground, and Adlai slices his neck.

“Good, now into the jail,” Adlai says, opening the doorway.  

Just inside of the jail, they see the nearly 20-foot tall golem, made entirely of adamantium.  The Necromancer quickly steps up.  The air grows dark and cold around him, and the room seems to shrink as he speaks.

“I _wish_ I was the creator, and therefore controller, of this golem…”

The golem takes a step toward them, then turns toward the back of the jail.  Instead of a wall where the secret passage used to be, a huge opening, large enough for the golem to fit is.

“It worked!” Eltharion exclaims.

“Now let’s get busy,” Bink, from his _Book of Infinite Spe_lls, casts a _break enchantment _ on the Oubliette chamber, shattering all of the interweaving magic auras permeating the chamber.  The golem steps through onto the spiraling stairs, all of them now reinforced with adamantium.

The chamber is practically filled with spider webs, making it difficult to see anything.  Bink creates a few fires, and the golem sweeps the webbing away as they decend the staircase.  Ogrim spots a drider at the bottom, and jumps off the stairs.  His axe-first dive almost cleaves the beast in half.  At this point, the Heroes notice the various holes all around the Oubliette that didn’t used to be there.  They notice them, because all kinds of spiders begin to emerge.  Spiders as small as a fingernail, and as large as the adamantium golem The Necromancer controls!

Two ten-foot wide spiders emerge at the bottom near Ogrim, both concentrate and unleash dark energy at him, but his amulet absorbs both spells.

Bink’s eyes shift to the magical spectrum.

“Those spiders just cast _horrid wilting_!” Bink says, flabbergasted.

An even larger spider emerges from a hole hidden behind some webbing just above the rest of the group’s head.  It waves its poison dripping mandibles, and another, more powerful wave of dark energy flashes at Damaré.  He isn’t so lucky to possess a protective amulet, and in a puff all that is left is a pile of dust.

“_Destruction_!?” Bink’s jaw drops.

“NO!!” The Necromancer yells.  Through gritted teeth, he mouths the incantation for a _horrid wilting _ spell of his own.  The moisture drains out of the two smaller spiders near Ogrim, shriveling them both into nothing but dried up husks.

The rest of the Heroes run down the stairs, away from the larger spider on the wall near them.  Bink dives behind a leg of the golem and fires off five _magic missiles_, each one pelting the spider.  Adlai runs to the bottom and begins to examine the spire.

“The spells that are emanating from this thing are back up!” his _detect magic _ proves his words correct.

The Necromancer isn’t listening.  He turns his rage on the spider that destroyed Damaré.

“He was like my brother!” The Necromancer casts a _flesh to stone_, and ends the fight.  The spider loses its grasp on the wall, and falls to the ground 60 feet below, the stone shattering into 1000 pieces.

Several other spiders start to emerge, but each one is dispatched easily, one after the other, from powerful overhead smashes from the golem.

“Glad he’s on our side,” Grog says, wide-eyed.

They set the golem up at the base of the stairs, and all gather around Jelodia.

“I’m going to begin the casting now.  Please, if you can, place any protective spells you can on me,” Jelodia casts any kind of helpful spells she has left on the Heroes.

The Necromancer just stares off into space.

“We’ll get them… they’ll pay Nekky, they’ll pay,” Eltharion comforts his friend.

Jelodia begins to cast her spell.  The tooth of the tarrasque is absorbed into her, and the room rumbles slightly, then stops.  Her feet have already sprouted roots and are digging into the stone.

Adlai nods, and casts _invisibility_ on her, and she is unseen.

Bink takes out his falchion and slashes the glass-cylinder attached to the spire.

“Better safe than sorry,” Bink says.

Adlai is still studying the runes, and Eltharion joins him.

“Fascinating.  There must be several types of spells that are powered by this thing, other than the darkness,” Adlai notes.

Eltharion starts to climb the spire, studying the runes more closely himself.

Bink clears out as much of the webbing as possible.  Most of the chamber is bare now.

“The portal’s gone,” Bink says.  He points to where the blocked off cell was, and it’s just a larger hole in the wall now, the Heroes cannot see where it ends.

“So much for that out,” Eltharion shrugs.  “We still have our key to Sigil.”

“I’ll go look out,” Bink casts _spider climb _ and _invisibility_ and climbs up the spire so he can see out into the jail.  Just as he gets to the top, he sees a dark elf in robes, two with wild hair and longswords, and one spindly black demon, dripping black liquid from vicious claws, talking in the jailroom, preparing to enter the Oubliette.  The demon’s eyes meet Bink’s despite his invisibility.

“They’re coming!” Bink yells.

The final battle has begun.  One down, how many Heroes will fall?  How much vengeance will The Necromancer take?  Find out next time!


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## Hairy Minotaur (Sep 29, 2005)

He yet lives!!!!  

Glad to see you back in operation Droid.

Horrid wilting is such the lovely spell.


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## Droid101 (Oct 4, 2005)

\jkl


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## sandtiger (Oct 10, 2005)

Man, I'm re-reading this from the beginning, and boy is it grand.  I'm still trying to figure out which characters are PC/NPC.  I'm not having much luck.

What an adventure.  Are you still managing to get and actual D&D into your schedule?  Hopefully, you
haven't given up on us and will treat everyone (especially me) with more, including the 100 years after campaign.

Thanks again for writing.

Sandtiger


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## Droid101 (Oct 11, 2005)

[]]


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## Sandain (Oct 11, 2005)

Hello,

I just thought that I would drop a note to say that I still read this story hour and still enjoy it.

I also think you have only a few players and many NPC's


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## Droid101 (Oct 12, 2005)

...


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## sandtiger (Dec 17, 2005)

*Holiday Present?*

Droid101,

I have been a very good boy this year, and I was hoping for a present.  I wished for
this story hour to be updated, since I miss it so.

Please.

Sandtiger


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