# Slumbering Evils Story Hour: Updated Jan 20th



## The_Black_Cat (Jan 20, 2011)

I've recently started a new campaign with some of my friends. It's been quite a thrill so far, so I thought I might share it with you guys. The Story Hour should be updated weekly (or bi-weekly when I have an abundance of time on my hands). Here's the beginning of Part One. Feel free to post questions, comments and suggestions, I really appreciate all of them.

Part One - All The King’s Horses and all the King’s Men… 

*Chapter Nil - Introduction*

*World Info
*The world is different from your standard D&D world in many ways. First of all, there are only five planes in the entire setting: Mechanus, plane of law, The Far Realm, plane of Chaos, the Abyss, plane of Evil, the Blind Eternities, land of the dead, and, finally, the Material plane and its Ethereal and Shadow counterparts. Deities stalk the land in mortal form and the world is flat. Instead of traditional planar barriers, the planes are separated by a mysterious, semi-divine body of water known as the Celeste. It seems to have a mind of its own, as it will lead travelers to their destination if it so wishes just as it may lead them astray. Magical preparation helps one navigate the mystical depths, but success is never guaranteed and peril is always great. Elementals are magically created by wizards and are sometimes spawned in the Far Realm. 
The campaign begins in the Felcarn Woods, a large forest that borders a small swampland to the northwest and a mountain range to the northeast. Three settlements lie in this area, being Carignan, a human settlement that also harbors many changelings and shifters and is ruled over by the deluded Lord Erald; Terraedelfe, an elven settlement that numbers a great many High Elves, Gray Elves, Wood Elves, Half-Elves and Catfolk. The elves reside in a tree-city which was made by powerful druidic magic long ago. The last of the settlements is Bruma, a mountaintop village inhabited by Dwarves, Dream Dwarves and Gnomes. Dragons both good and evil also inhabit the mountains. Two abandoned settlements also exist, Tollstoff Keep lies in the swamps, whilst an ancient fortress built by a long-forgotten civilization sits hidden in the forest itself. 

*Character Background
*Arathen is a Dream Dwarf with a semi-divine connection with the land. He hails from the mountain-city of Bruma and couples his combat training with his innate arcane magic. He is now a member of the Emerald Guard. Arathen is wise at times as carefree at others, his ancestral connection with the earth is tempered by his free, festive nature and his love of ale.
Deskarr is a Catfolk duskblade who was studied swordplay and wizardry in equal measures. He too is a member of the Emerald Guard and he grew up in Terradelfe, the land of the elves. He is thoughtful, full of clever plans and is quite charismatic, but knows when to hold his tongue.
Ninaran is a Grey Elf archivist, a divine spell caster that gains his spells through study instead of devotion. He studied some divine magic in his youth and joined the Emerald Guard after his wife and children were slaughtered by a zombie outbreak in Barovia, a not-so distant town. Consumed by rage and having lost all faith in Pelor, the sun-god, he continued his studies through knowledge instead of faith. He worships Wee Jas and he uses necromancy and a bit of other magic in order to avenge his family. He is quiet and pensive and is at times cruel, but he has good intentions at heart and always tries to do the right thing.
Vice is a half-dragon bounty hunter originally from Bruma. He traveled to Barovia at an early age and worked for the evil Count Zarovitch, a cruel vampire warlord who unleashed an army of undead upon the city and is responsible for the death of Ninaran’s family. He was betrayed by the warlord and escaped with his life, taking many of Zarovitch’s most powerful minions with him. The count is sending many minions and hired mercenaries after Vice in order to bring him down. 

Mechanics: 
Arathen: Dream Dwarf Duskblade/Earth Dreamer 5 
Deskarr: Catfolk Duskblade 4 
Ninaran: Gray Elf Archivist 5
Vice: Human Half-Dragon Ranger 2


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## The_Black_Cat (Jan 20, 2011)

*Chapter One - Kingdom Come*

The tale I am about to recount began with a death. The Elven King, Cedris Longbow, had been poisoned and his eldest son, Prince Cade Longbow was to be crowned king in a matter of days. Our trio of intrepid heroes were assigned to bring Lord Erald’s letter of approval to the elven lands and watch over the coronation. The group began their march through the forest, nervous of whatever lay ahead, eyes peeled - excluding Arathen, who’s eyes were closed. After a few hours of walk, the dwarf sighed and muttered “A group of five, thirty feet away”. His brow furrowed in effort and he spoke once more. “They feel…bad”. The other two nodded. They had learnt to trust their ally’s peculiar connection to the earth. Swiveling in the direction he had indicated, they readied their weapons as a group of orcs came charging from the forest. Four of them, clad in chainmail and wielding masterfully crafted weapons ran towards the Emerald Guardians. They traded blows and spells for a short time, whereupon a small red object appeared in Ninaran’s hand. Grinning ghoulishly, he cast away the orcish heart as his victim, the largest of the orcs, slumped to the ground, an expression of agony plastered on his face. As the green-skinned humanoids recoiled in fear, the fifth of the orcs, braver - or far stupider - than his companions leapt from the forest and grabbed the feline duskblade by the neck, who lashed out ineffectually at the brute, who was massive even by orcish standards. Cursing , Deskarr struggled to break the humanoid’s grip. The orc lashed out in anger, throwing the catfolk to the ground

After a few more minutes of fighting, only the three emissaries and the hulking assailant that had been relentlessly pounding on the furred warrior remained. The orc spat out a handful of blood and threw himself upon the duskblades, roaring mightily. With a mixture of grace, magic and luck, the gigantic orc was felled, striking the ground with a loud “THUD”. “I am perplexed” stated Ninaran. When none of his companions inquired upon his conjecture, Ninaran continued unprompted. “The orcs were wearing armor far beyond the scope of a mere tribe of savages. The weapons are expertly crafted and the armor is made of expensive metal.” Arathen shrugged. “We’ll deal with the Greenskins some other time. We’ve got a party to attend”. Sighing, Deskarr shook his head. “It’s a coronation. Not a party. The king just died. I doubt there’ll be any festivities. “There’s always parties” replied the dwarf “You just need to know where to go”.

The three heroes arrived at the elven city at the dawn of the next morning, bleary-eyed and exhausted. They visited the king-to-be, handing him the necessary paperwork and muttering a quick farewell before stumbling off to the nearest inn. They woke a few hours later and began their preparations for the coronation, which took place at dusk. As the priest muttered a few lines and the prince stared forward, a solemn look on his face, the Emerald Guardians and the elven elite gazed around, looking through the crowd for anyone wanting to harm the prince. 

“Damn Birds” whispered an aged elven warrior, gesturing to a duo of birds circling the area, filling the air with their squawking. “Those aren’t birds.” exclaimed the dwarf, who recognized the creatures from his youth in the mountains. “Those are harpies”. Silently, the elf signaled the others, who readied their bows and took careful aim. Unfortunately, they could only fire off a few arrows before a group of grey-skinned humanoids with massive black eyes and hideous, monstrous faces leapt from the crowd and attacked. With a word of magic and a sizzling bolt of electricity, Arathen killed the first of the charging cavern-dwellers. He then put his shield-arm around the prince, protecting him from the murderous gaggle of coronation-crashers. However, he failed to notice the diving harpies, a freakish blend between 
vulture and woman. The harpies flew closer and closer, until one of them grabbed the prince with its left talon and began to fly away, dragging him with her. A determined expression overtook the dwarf’s face as he leapt into the air and grabbed onto the harpy’s leg.

Arathen, who was deathly scared of heights, began to regret his decision as soon as he had leapt. Swallowing his vomit, he climbed the prince - who didn’t seem to enjoy his role as makeshift ladder -and began to hack away at the harpy’s talon, which snapped with ease. The prince and the dwarf began to fall towards the ground, but the second harpy stuck both of its talons into the flesh of the prince, who bit his tongue, holding in a scream. Swifter than most dwarves, the Earth Dreamer managed to grab the second harpy, who retained her flight despite the weight of her unexpected charge. Ninaran threw a ring to Arathen, who just barely caught it as he ascended into the rapidly darkening sky.

*Chapter Two - Ground Control To Major Tom*

As his burly friend disappeared into the night sky, Deskarr readied his crossbow and took aim at the Harpy. “Focus” he thought to himself “If you can take the Harpy out, that ring’ll do the rest”. Breathing deeply, he fired off a single bolt, which embedded itself in the… foot of the prince. Grimacing, Deskarr turned to see that a Grimlock was charging towards him. Dully, he began to draw hi sword, but before he could pull it out the bestial creature had him pinned to the ground.
***​“Hm… how we goanna work this?” queried Arathen. The prince gave him a look of annoyance, but said nothing. “We’ve got one ring and one crazy &@#%# that wants us dead. I may just have a plan.”. Without explanation, the dwarf, who had never been higher in the air that he was at the moment, leapt onto the harpy’s back and attempted to steer her, an impromptu vehicle. The weight of the two men finally took its toll on the exhausted avian, who began to plummet towards the treetops. As they fell, Arathen gulped and thrust the ring onto Cade’s finger, who began to float gently towards the ground, under effect of the ring’s “Feather Fall” ability. The dwarf and harpy, on the other hand, weren’t quite so lucky. They fell like half-eaten elves from the hands of giants.
***​As his body thrust against the earth, Deskarr caught a glimpse of the floating prince to the north. “Oh look. A fairy” he thought, as his face was struck against the hard ground once more. His assailant brought him even closer to unconsciousness. Just before he fainted, a blast of magical force sent the ogrelike creature flying, releasing the catfolk from his torment. Looking around, he saw that the battle was won, but that it had come at a hefty cost. Elven and Grimlock corpses alike littered the floor, covering the town square. Most of the audience had fled, those that remained seemed terrified, some even shook with fear. Ninaran stood before him, chuckling to himself. “That, my dear fellow, was a blast” giggled the archivist, helping the duskblade to his feet. 
***​Arathen reached out for the branches, attempting to halt his deadly fall, to no avail. Desperate, he pulled out his axe and ground it into a tree, slowing down to an extent, but not very significantly. At best, this was going to end with a good deal of broken bones. Another idea struck him, and he yelled to the prince “Throw me the ring! I’ll catch you” Looking unsure, the prince reluctantly took off his ring and dropped it. The dwarf caught it and put it on, slowly floating for the last few feet of his fall. He extended his arms, prepared to catch the elf, but the harpy fell onto his face, momentarily blocking his view. The prince crashed into the distracted Earth Dreamer’s arm, sending searing pain through said arm and causing a loud snapping noise from the prince, who struck the ground and lay there, motionless.
***​ 
“So.” asked the veteran guard who had signaled the arrival of the harpies. “Did you see where that foul creature went? We must find the prince!” In response, Deskarr pointed in the general direction of the falling “Fairy”. Nodding, the veteran rallied his remaining men, who quickly made their way through the forest, searching for their would-be-king, wherever he may be. 
***​ 
The Earth Dreamer had no time to check on the unconscious elf, for as soon as he stood up, he took a series of deep breaths, resuming his connection with the earth. Instantly, he knew the exact location of the many creatures surrounding him, too many to count, coming from all directions, excluding east. Without a moment’s thought, he threw the prince onto his back and began to run . His pursuers, it seemed, were also aware of his movements, as they tracked him like a hound, funneling him towards the north-east and moving faster than he did. Mumbling an arcane phrase, he moved forth at an extremely swift pace, managing to overtake his pursuers. Looking back, he saw a hideous, claw-fingered woman with dirty green hair and yellowed teeth, who disappeared out of thin air the moment he set his eyes on her. “Again with the nutty @#$%@#$” he swore to no one in particular. As he ran forwards, wary of attack, the horrendous woman leapt from thin air, clawing at him and spewing vile curses. He blocked the blow and was about to retaliate when she disappeared once more. Fleeing in terror, he reached the edge of the swamp, when his pursuers caught up to him from both sides. The witch, or madwoman, or whatever she was before him, a mob of screaming Grimlocks - the same grey-skinned humanoids that had attacked at the coronation - behind him. Arathen sighed and looked both ways, electing to take his chances with the swamp. As he waded into the murky depths, the Grimlocks abandoned the chase, but the green-haired female plunged into the bog, swimming at high speed, fast as a fish, teeth bared and claws outstretched.


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## The_Black_Cat (Jan 30, 2011)

Chapter Three - Seeing Double

Ninaran, Deskarr and the elven guards searched the forest swiftly and efficiently, but their journey was long and they feared they would not find the prince in time to save him. Nevertheless, they marched silently, on the lookout for grimlocks, harpies, or worse. After an hour or so of walking, they heard a the clinking of chainmail and the thump of boots. “Orcs” sighed Deskarr as they prepared for fight or flight. Moments later, a veritable array of orcs, in all possible sizes and wielding all sorts of weapons emerged from the forest, too numerous to count, too numerous to fight. The search party, outmatched by the orcs, ran for their lives. All but one. A young member of the elven elite turned back and charged towards the orcs, giving his life for that of his allies. Laughing cruelly, one of the orcs stepped forth and struck the novice down. 
The remainder of the rescue party ran towards the nearby swamps and were one by one struck down by spear-throwing, blade-swinging, elf-tackling orcs. By the time the swamps were in sight, all but four had been slaughtered. They bounded from the forest into the swamps of death, where even the fearless orcs dared not go…
***​ 
Just as Arathen’s pursuer reached her quarry, the dwarf heaved himself onto a tiny speck of dry land and grinned at his foe, who was not yet out of the water. Yet another bolt of electricity escaped from his hands, aimed not at the savage woman but rather at the water itself. The bolt coursed through the water as well as across the hag’s body, who broke into pained spasms and sunk into the murky bog. Arathen continued his march through the bog. When he turned back, the hag was nowhere to be seen. Whistling to himself as he walked, Arathen made his way to a mass of tiny huts made out of straw and wood and walked into the nearest one. As guttural, animalistic laughter sounded in the distance, Arathen set to work on barricading his hideaway, placing the desk in front of the unobstructed entry and the bed in front of the sole window before setting the prince down on the ground and patiently guarding the door, weapon raised. After a while - Arathen’s futile efforts to count off the seconds lead to little success - the desk was pushed over, and a furred creature leapt into the room!
***​ 
Ninaran, Deskarr and their elven companions waded into the treacherous swamp, followed by a hail of arrows, which struck an elf in the head, killing him instantly. Only the oldest of the guards, the veteran, remained. Swearing in elven, the guard began to speak when a small elven hand emerged from the water before disappearing into the blackness once more. The trio swam to where they had last seen the limb and began to search the water for their comrade. Ninaran’s hand clamped around something fleshy and soft. He quickly heaved it from the water, but it was nothing more than a rotting corpse that had lain beneath the sea for weeks and weeks. Dropping the body with little emotion he renewed his search. Deskarr and the veteran, both searching the same area, their arms blindly searching through the mass of muck and seaweed, came across the drowning prince at exactly the same time. Emerging from the depths, he immediately stopped flailing about and began to gasp for breath. “My Lord” intoned the veteran elf, saluting the prince, who promptly replied “Many thanks, faithful servant”. After a few moments of discussion, Ninaran and Deskarr continued to travel through the swamp in search of their missing partner and the elven guard escorted Cade back to the elven lands. Reaching the end of the swamp, the members of the Emerald Guard searched the huts for a few minutes, before noticing the one blocked off by a desk. Pushing it over, Deskarr leapt into the building… 
… Arathen lunged at the intruder, barely missing his exposed neck before both noticed the near-fatal error they had made. They chuckled nervously for a few moments, until Ninaran poked his head in and noticed the elven prince lying in the corner of the room. 
“ Did you and the prince lose contact at any moment whilst you made your way here?” he snapped at Arathen. “No. Why?” asked the bewildered dwarf. “Zargon’s Blood!” swore the elf, pushing the mattress off the bed, revealing the swamp-facing window. Peering into the black night, the trio could barely make out the deserted shore.
*　*
Chapter four is coming soon, which will be far longer than this one (or at least it should be). I haven't come up with a title for it so far. I might also post a Session Overview for the first session, which made up the first three chapters of the story hour.


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